Pamela’s laughter pealed through the air like wedding bells. “All right. All right. I’ll find you a husband.”
Kenzi allowed her grin to burst forth. For the first time since her father had taken ill, she had hope that she might just be able to do what her whole heart pushed her to accomplish. She rubbed her hands up and down her goose-bump-covered arms. “I intend to make Grandma Hazel and Grandpa Charlie proud, Aunt Pamela. Hazel’s Dairy Delights will remain an industry leader under my supervision.”
“I’ve no doubt, darling. You’re tenacious.”
“I get that from you too.” Kenzi brushed off her palms. Now that the “if” was settled, they needed to concentrate on the details. There was no time to indulge in a case of nerves—a case of Double Chocolate for Lovers? Possibly. At least she didn’t have to diet to fit into a wedding dress. “When’s the wedding?” She couldn’t bring herself to say,When’smywedding?
“Tuesday.”
Her heart tripped over Saturday, Sunday, and Monday. “That soon?”
A shadow clouded Pamela’s usually unmarred complexion. “I was under the impression time is of the essence.” Her lowered tone was one usually reserved for Dad’s sickroom.
“How insensitive of me.” Kenzi was losing a father. While she was sitting here planning a hostile takeover of the company, Pamela was losing her brother. “I’m sorry. Have you seen Dad lately?”
Retrieving a tissue from the corner of her desk, Pamela nodded. “Just yesterday. He’s positively gray in the face.” She dabbed under her lashes.
Kenzie stared at the box of tissue, sure that it hadn’t been there a moment before. Then again, she’d been so focused on getting Pamela to agree to this crazy charade that she could have missed it. “The doctor says two weeks, if we’re lucky.”
Pamela crumpled the tissue in her hand, and Kenzi imagined her insides were crumpling too, though her face stayed smooth. Pamela Jones didn’t fall apart easily. She was like Dad in that way. They were both hard as nails, and yet there was an inherent kindness in them. Kenzi wanted to be just like her dad—she emulated him in everything from her college major to signature black suits.
Pamela took in a deep breath through her pert nose. “Tuesday will do fine. I have two grooms who would do, but I feel as though there’s something on the horizon.” Her eyes went over Kenzi’s shoulder, and she stared for a moment before coming to herself. “Tuesday morning. I’ll have Tina set up the schedule and call you with the details.”
Kenzi got to her suddenly tired feet, noting that her legs were drained of energy as well. She locked her knees in place to hold her up. “That should work.”
“Don’t go quite yet, darling. I’ll need you to talk to Trish.”
Kenzi instantly perked up at the opportunity to talk to the woman Harrison quietly adored—even if he wouldn’t admit it to himself. “For what?”Please let it be about Harrison.
“For a wedding dress. All our brides and grooms undergo a makeover before the wedding. It’s standard procedure.”
Kenzi once again took in her sensible business attire. Her aunt was the second person that day to suggest her image wasn’t what she thought it was. That was it. She was going to burn this outfit. And a wedding dress? She’d rather wear a bikini—and she was a woman who loved ice cream. Her hand clamped into a fist. She had a wedding dress hanging in the farthest back corner of her nine-hundred-square-foot closet, where the light bulb had burned out and she’d told the staff not to replace it. “There’s no need for that!”
Pamela walked grandly around her desk. Her white teeth gleamed and her skin glowed as she slipped her arm around Kenzi’s shoulders. With deliberate steps, she ushered Kenzie toward the receptionist’s area. “Of course you do, dear. You are my top client, and I won’t have anything but the best for my niece.”
“There’s not time. I confer with Dad’s doctor and nurses on Saturday, and we have the family brunch Sunday. I’ll have to work late Monday to take a few hours off for the wedding on Tuesday.” She shrugged like there was nothing she could do about her busy schedule.
“Don’t be silly. You can carve out a few hours tomorrow morning.”
“But—”
Pamela lifted both her eyebrows. “I won’t take no for an answer.”
Kenzi dug her two-inch heels into the carpet and stopped their slow progress toward the elevators. “Idon’twant another wedding dress.”
At her sharp tone, the receptionist’s red head popped up. Pamela glanced her way, and Tina’s cheeks dusted coral. She ducked her red head again.
Kenzi’s embarrassment climbed her neck like ivy, slowly choking her. What her aunt must think of the girl who ran away from the handsome and highly sought-after Clyde Edwards—heir to the Edwards fortune and future Earl of Dymock. Thankfully, their whirlwind romance and subsequent disaster of an engagement was mostly limited to the English tabloids and gossip rags. She wasn’t important enough in America to warrant more than a few online articles that glossed over the details.
Pamela’s eyes narrowed a fraction. “It’s not the dress’s fault that man was a wanker.”
Kenzi snorted a laugh and threw her hand over her chest. “Why, Aunt Pamela, I’m utterly shocked. Where did you learn English slang?”
Pamela winked as she pressed the down arrow button for the elevator. “England, my dear. You aren’t the only one who enjoyed time abroad.”
The door dinged and opened.
“True. But I didn’t expect you to keep company with individuals who used such language.”
Pamela gently nudged her into the elevator and pressed the lobby button. “I find it’s always best to insult someone with a small mind in their own language. That way, the meaning is never lost.”
The doors slipped shut as Kenzi wiped the tear of laugher out of the corner of her eye. Oh, how she loved her aunt. She continued to chuckle as the elevator descended. Her phone beeped and she checked the text.
This is Trish from BMB. I will pick you up at 8 am tomorrow for shopping. Dress comfortably.
Kenzi shoved her phone into her purse with a grunt. Pamela had pulled a slight-o’-hand getting her to laugh. On top of all the words she could use to describe her aunt—determined, tenacious, kind, intelligent, and professional—she could now add sneaky to the list.
She sighed, grateful Aunt Pamela was on her side. But now that she knew what her aunt was really capable of, she was even more unsure about putting her future and the future of Hazel’s Dairy Delights into her professionally manicured hands.
