CORA
Iburst into Alexandra’s Boutique, the bell above the door jingling. The familiar scent of lavender and new fabric envelops me as I collapse into a plush velvet chair.
This place has been my go-to for years, the secret weapon in my arsenal as a top-tier wedding planner.
“I need to see your latest designs,” I huff, my heart still racing from the dash across the street. “The Carmichael wedding is in six weeks, and the bride is having second thoughts about her dress.”
Alexandra’s eyes crinkle as she smiles, her silver-streaked hair catching the soft boutique lighting. “Another bride rescued by Cora Valeur? I’m on it.” Her gaze shifts to the window. “Your boyfriend can come in, you know. No need to leave him out in the street.”
I glance outside where Ryder looms, his massive frame blocking half the storefront window. His eyes scan the street, hyper-vigilant, like a sentinel guarding afortress.
“He’s not my boyfriend,” I murmur, heat rising to my cheeks. “He’s my bodyguard.”
“A bodyguard?” Alexandra’s eyebrows shoot up, her silver bangles jingling as she leans in closer. “What’s going on, Cora? Are you in some kind of trouble?”
I shrug, feigning nonchalance even as my stomach twists. “Dad’s gone overboard again. You know how he is.” It’s a convenient excuse and not entirely untrue. My father’s reputation for being uncompromising is legendary in our social circles. When he wants something, everyone bends to his will.
Alexandra nods, her lips pursing. Then she frowns, her gaze darting back to the window. “He can’t just stand out there like that. He’s scaring away customers. Mrs. Vanderbilt is due any minute for her fitting, and you know how skittish she gets.”
I heave myself up with an exaggerated sigh and yank open the door. The warm air hits me. “Don’t lurk out here like some weirdo. Come inside.”
Ryder’s dark eyes meet mine. “I can see better from out here.”
“Inside. Now.”
Ryder furrows his brow but complies, brushing past me. His shoulder grazes my chest, and my nipples stand at attention. The brief contact sends a jolt through me, and I have to bite my lip to stifle a gasp. I’m hopeless.
Ryder positions himself at the side of the store, his eyes scanning the windows and door. I shake my head, trying to focus on anything but the way his presence fills the room. It’s like having a panther in a china shop—sleek, dangerous, and out of place.
“So, Alex,” I say, turning back to her and plastering on a smile, “I’ve got a challenging client. I need something specialand princess-like. Think Cinderella meets modern-day socialite.”
Alexandra chuckles, laugh lines deepening around her eyes. “All your clients are challenging. That’s how you like them.” She beckons me with a manicured hand, her rings catching the light. “Come with me for a second. I’ve got some new arrivals that might spark some ideas.”
I follow her to the dress rack, the soft rustle of fabric surrounding us as she pulls out several gowns wrapped in protective plastic. The dresses shimmer even through the coverings, promising elegance and luxury.
“My clients won’t buy off-the-rack,” I remind her, running my fingers along a satin sleeve. The material is cool and smooth, like water-made fabric.
“And you know me better than that, darling,” Alexandra retorts, a hint of playful offense in her voice. “I’m not suggesting they buy these as-is. I just want to show you some details you can propose to her. Sometimes, seeing is believing, especially with your...particular clientele.”
I smile back. She knows me and my requirements well. At least half of my clients buy from her because she gets me. It’s why we work so well together—a symbiosis of style and substance.
Even Ava bought her main wedding dress here. My brother’s wedding was something extraordinary. I couldn’t afford anything less. My reputation was on the line.
“You said princess-like?” Alexandra asks, unzipping one dress. “This is lace imported from France. The pattern is exclusive to us.” She shows me the fabric, then opens another dress, laying it beside the first. She holds up both fabrics, one over the other, so I can see the effect. “I can add beading or pearls to the lace, like this. See how it catches the light?”
I run my fingers over the delicate lace, marveling at its intricate patterns. “It’s exquisite. The detail is incredible.”
“Isn’t it?” Alexandra beams, her enthusiasm infectious. “I knew you’d appreciate it. And we can give the dress lots of volume to make it more princess-like. Maybe a ball gown silhouette with a dropped waist?”
“Of course,” I nod, ideas already forming in my mind. The dress takes shape. A vision of tulle and lace fit for royalty. “I was thinking off-the-shoulder...”
“Ooh, yes,” Alexandra agrees, her eyes lighting up. “We could do a sweetheart neckline with detachable off-the-shoulder sleeves. Best of both worlds—demure for the ceremony, sultry for the reception.”
We discuss necklines and hemlines, but my mind is elsewhere. I imagine those intricate patterns trailing across my skin, followed by Ryder’s calloused hands. The thought makes me shiver.
“Earth to Cora,” Alexandra’s voice cuts through my thoughts. “Where did you go just now?”
I blink, realizing I’ve been staring at Ryder for who knows how long. “Sorry, just thinking about the dress.”
