Page 97 of Dropping the Ball

“Thinking.” I stop patting the desk. “Call Doug Cutler at the consulate in Dhaka. See if you can find out what the problem is and if there’s anything we can do to expedite it.”

“On it.”

“When does that plane get in?”

She checks her phone. “It lands at 11:23 AM tomorrow.”

“Call Couture Alterations in Bee Cave and see if Vania can fit me in at 1:00.” She’s the only one we let do our alterations short of the designers themselves.

Suz nods and disappears.

I text Madison to tell her that work is holding me up, but I expect first dibs on the baby on Thursday. I’m not mentioning the Maheen situation until I understand the potential outcomes. Bad enough I have to tell Madison about the auction.

Suz is back a few minutes later. “Vania is booked until Christmas. I reminded the owner the Armstrongs are VIPs, but she said it’s Bee Cave so everyone is VIP, and it’s our gala that’s keeping her so busy.”

It’s almost funny. Almost.

I only nod. “Keep me posted on the consulate.”

She darts out again, and I press the heels of my hands into my eyes. What am I supposed to do? This was the whole point of having Maheen come in this early. We’d have four weeks for fittings and alterations, Madison’s dress being of most concern since Maheen went two sizes up when she designed the gown to accommodate any baby weight. We’d all counted on plenty of time for adjustments.

This is a potential disaster. It would be easy enough to find other gowns, but the chairs of the Discovery Gala cannot show up wearing established designers.

Those cookies are now emergency cookies, and I pick out the snowflake, biting into it, chewing slowly with my head propped in my hand, elbow on my desk. I admire the lacy pattern again, amazed by the talent of Micah’s neighbor. Who would’ve thought—

Oh.

Oh oh oh.

I grab my phone.

That lady in your neighborhood who does quinceañera alterations. Do you have her number?

You’re a little old…

!!!

He sends the number. Her name is Lidia Perez, and I dial it as soon as I get it.

Ten minutes later, I have an appointment for the next day at 1:00. She’d insisted she didn’t have time because she was preparing for their large family Thanksgiving, but I told her I’d pay her what I paid Vania if she could fit me in. When I named the amount, she said she’d see me at 1:00 and hung up like she was afraid I would change my mind.

No chance, because if we can’t get Maheen here, this may be the only shot we’ve got.

Wednesday iswild. Aisha fetches Maheen’s assistant, Aleina, from the airport and brings her straight to the office. She’s a few years older than me, dressed in a travel-friendly teal jersey tunicand wide leg pants. We apologize profusely for rushing her into work instead of giving her time to recuperate. She assures us she slept on the plane and apologizes profusely for Maheen not yet being here.

Then we’re on our way to see Lidia Perez in Suz’s borrowed Subaru since my car isn’t made to handle a passenger with luggage.

When I knock on the Perezes’ front door, a girl around eighteen answers it.

“Hi, I’m here for a possible fitting with Lidia?”

She smiles. “I’m her daughter, Isa. Follow me.”

She leads us through their small, neat house to the garage, which opens off the kitchen, which I almost don’t escape. It smells incredible, a large pot simmering on the stove, rich smells of roasting peppers coming from the oven. I pause for a deep, appreciative whiff.

Isa grins. “We’ve been cooking for days. Got the whole family coming tomorrow.”

“Thanks for working me in,” I say. “I know it’s not ideal timing.”

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