Hot Finish (Fast Track #3)(29)
Author: Erin McCarthy

Tammy blinked, her cheeks a little pink. “Oh, well, that is good then. But how do you feel about it now? Are you seeing each other?”

Could hope and sheer terror coexist? Because Suzanne was sure she was suddenly feeling both. She tamped the feelings down. “No, absolutely not. It was just a fun one-night stand. I think we both needed a little closure.”

Uh-oh. Tammy’s head had tilted. Suzanne smelled a lecture coming on.

“Closure by sex has really never worked, that I’m aware of. Most of the time it just reopens old wounds and feelings.”

“Well, it didn’t.” So there.

“Suzanne!”

Nikki’s high-pitched voice nearly made her spill the remnants of her coffee on her lap. “Yes?”

“None of these dresses work! None of them look like Priscilla’s!” Nikki was standing on the dress platform in an empire waist chiffon dress. She looked like a flower girl on steroids. “The sleeves are all wrong!”

“Remember what I said, we just need the basic outline to be right, then we’ll do alterations. We don’t have time to start a dress from scratch. Your wedding is four weeks away, so there’s no way we can find a seamstress to do it in that time frame.”

“I don’t see why not.” Out came the pout.

Trying not to sigh, Suzanne stood up and set her coffee down on the bench. She inspected the dress Nikki was wearing. “This will definitely work.” It wouldn’t look good, but it would work. “We just need the sleeves and some lace added to the bodice. Maybe an underskirt to fill it out a little.”

Nikki’s cell phone was suddenly blasting “Rock You Like a Hurricane” from her purse in the corner.

“Can you get that? It’s Jonas.”

“Sure.” Suzanne dug out the phone and handed it to Nikki.

Nikki punched buttons and then let out a wail so loud the saleslady started and fell back onto her bottom from where she’d been pinning the hem on the dress.

“Jesus, what’s the matter?” Chances were, it wasn’t important, but given Nikki’s trembling lip and watery eyes, this was a crisis Suzanne wanted to avert before it got worse.

“Look at Jonas in Elvis’s tux!”

Nikki held her phone out and Suzanne eyed the picture of Nikki’s fiancé looking a little . . . stuffed into a very shiny tux. “Hmm.”

“It looks awful on him! He doesn’t look like the King, he looks like a human Ding Dong!”

For perhaps the first time ever, Nikki had said something that Suzanne could find a measure of truth in. Trying not to giggle, she bit her lip hard. “Maybe it’s just the angle.”

“It’s not the angle! It looks terrible. And I don’t like this dress, and I was thinking if I have to dye my hair black it will take years to get it back to the perfect shade of blond again.”

Alarmed at the hysterical tenor in Nikki’s voice, Suzanne took her hand and squeezed. “It’s okay, hon. We’ll work it all out so you’re happy. Maybe dying your hair and having Jonas in paisley is too over the top. Let’s scale back and just go for a retro look, how does that sound? Just a pretty, simple dress, and a nice black suit.”

“I don’t want simple.” Nikki yanked her hand away. She balled up her fists and screwed up her eyes and let out another fantastic shriek, that was punctuated by her hurling her cell phone across the room, where it hit one of the many mirrors dominating the room. The glass shattered and the cell phone dropped with a thwack to the carpet amid a rainstorm of mirror shards.

Holy . . . Suzanne stared at the mess in shock. “Nikki!”

“That’s it,” the saleslady said, her face a deep russet color. “Get the hell out of my shop. After you pay for that mirror.”

“I’m really sorry,” Suzanne said, already reaching for her credit card and mentally deducting broken glass from her check from Jonas. “Of course we’ll pay for it.”

The saleslady was unzipping the back of the dress Nikki was wearing. “What the hell are you doing?” Nikki asked. “I’m wearing this!”

“Not anymore.”

“What if I want to buy this?” Nikki asked, her hands reaching back to shoo at the saleslady.

“It’s no longer available.”

The dress dropped to a puddle on the floor, leaving Nikki in her bra and panties. “Hey! I’m naked, you fat cow.”

Oh, my God. Suzanne frantically turned, trying to remember which room Nikki had left her jeans and sweater in. Tammy was pointing. “That one.”

“You have sixty seconds to get out of here before I call security,” was the saleslady’s response.

Tammy was already gathering up their coats and purses as Suzanne emerged with Nikki’s clothes. She gave them to her with a stern look she hoped would get the girl to hurry. “What about the mirror?” Suzanne asked the saleslady. “I can pay for it.”

“Just get out,” the plump middle-aged woman said, her lips pinched and fists clenched.

In another minute, they were outside on the sidewalk, Nikki blustering and threatening to sue, Tammy’s expression appalled. Suzanne pulled on her peacoat and tried not to feel sorry for herself.

“Thanks for stopping by,” she told her friend.

Tammy’s eyebrows shot up. “Are you okay?”

She waved her hand, feeling oddly prosaic. “Sure. Fine. Whatever. Just a day in the life of me.” If she stressed every time Nikki threw a tantrum, she’d be begging for a heart attack.

“Alright. Call me later. And I’ll see you Thursday.”

“What’s Thursday?” Suzanne was drawing a blank.

“Thanksgiving! You’d better be at my house or I will hunt you down and drag you over.”

Thanksgiving. Right. Another holiday to remind her everyone else on the planet had a family and she was the lone woman out.

“I’ll be there. With a pie.”

“Awesome. Everyone loves your pie.”

Ryder had been loving her pie the night before. Suzanne felt her cheeks and her hoohah start to burn.

It suddenly occurred to her she hadn’t heard from Ryder since they’d parted ways that morning.

And that suddenly sucked.

CHAPTER TEN

RYDER refused to be nervous about seeing Suzanne as he rang the doorbell to the Monroe’s house on Thanksgiving. So they hadn’t talked since he’d gotten out of her car after they’d made love all night. It didn’t mean anything. Everything would be normal, fine, good.