She smiled warmly. “Camilla was just giving me a rundown on her dream wedding,” she said. “We, here at Southern Charm, are prepared to do everything in our power to make those dreams a reality for her. I’m sure you are too.”
My smile tightened, but I told her how much I appreciated that instead of asking her to drop the thinly veiled sales tactics.
Alicia nodded approvingly when I glanced in her direction. Then she raised one thumb covertly.
We followed Patti across a sea of high-polished wooden floors, and past the bay of windows overlooking the river, to a large, private rotunda with a rack of wedding gowns on each side. Two overstuffed armchairs and a velvet settee centered the space before a platform with umpteen mirrors and a single fitting room.
Camilla fizzed beside me, hands clasped to her chest. “We’ve already picked a few things out.”
I scanned the racks and laughed. At least a half dozen garment bags burdened each rack. “I see.”
“And I’m obsessed with these shoes,” she added, lifting one satin heel from the ground, then the other. “The dress has to match these amazing works of art.”
“Those will go with anything here,” Patti assured.
Alicia pinched me discreetly, and I straightened my face.
“They’re perfect,” I told Camilla.
Patti motioned to the central settee. “Sit. I’ll help the bride into a few gowns, and we can pinpoint her style from there.”
We obeyed and were handed mimosas as our reward.
Patti followed Camilla behind the pink curtain, and I downed half my drink.
“This is even fancier than I remember,” Alicia said. “Remember my wedding dress? My mama’s gown from the nineteen seventies. It was atrocious, even with the alterations I could afford. The cheapest tag on anything in this place is fifteen hundred.”
I choked on my second sip and coughed violently into one hand. “Dollars?”
She pointed a finger at me. “Sophie Grace, stop making that face.”
“I’m choking!” I told her.
Once the store added sales tax to the purchase, the price would reach nearly two grand, and that was only if Camilla chose a dress in the lowest price range. Darn our old Southern traditions. Not to mention, throughout Camilla’s childhood I’d rebelliously spent Robert’s money on her because I could, and I knew he hated it but wouldn’t complain too much because a nicely dressed child reflected well on him. As a result, she knew what she liked and didn’t like, and she knew quality.
My banking app probably wept the moment Camilla sent me the text asking to meet her here.
I finished a second mimosa before Camilla exited the fitting room in gown number one. She looked like an angel in white satin. The material hugged her youthful curves and draped elegantly along her décolletage. Sweet. Classic. Understated.
She smiled, but I saw uncertainty in her eyes. “What do you think?”
Patti loved it.
Alicia told her she looked like a page from a magazine.
I shrugged. “It’s a beautiful dress, and you look incredible in it, but I wonder if this is the right one for you.”
“Yeah,” she said. “I agree. This would be perfect for the reception, when I want to dance and mingle without hauling around a massive gown, but—”
And there it was. Camilla didn’t want to “haul a massive gown” around the reception, but she did want to make her big appearance in one at the back of the church.
Patti jumped into action. “Say no more. We’ll focus on full skirts for now. How do you feel about embellishments?”
Camilla’s shoulders relaxed as she followed Patti into the dressing room.
I set my empty glass on a little table at my side.
The next time Camilla emerged, she wore something shaped like a cupcake and grinned.
