Page 46 of The Bourbon Bride

Hayesisamanof his word. He buys me the newest version of my phone with a screen protector and a protective case on top of it, and we search for places to find formal dresses last minute that won’t look like I’m going to prom or a wedding as a bridesmaid. Thankfully, Atlanta has far more dress shops than Savannah, so we have a few options. I look through their websites and decide on the one that looks like a good start.

“Are you coming into the shop with me to weigh in or do you want to be surprised?” I ask as we pull up to the cute shopping area and park near the store.

He looks around at the shops and then appraises me for a moment.

“I want to be surprised. I’ll go to that coffee shop and get some work done on my phone while you shop.”

“Wish me luck.” I blow him a kiss that he catches as I hop out of the Mercedes SUV.

This should be interesting. Mama always insisted on shopping with me and would veto me from even trying on dresses she felt were inappropriatefor a lady of impeccable breeding and social standing.

“Hey, sugar, welcome in,” a perky blonde in a pink shift dress says as I walk into the airy store.

I smile at her and look around. The store is so pretty and familiar in a way that makes my heart yearn for Savannah. It has white-washed brick walls, industrial chic hardware, and exposed lighting setting off the racks of dresses. I’m instantly comfortable and starting to look forward to this shopping trip after all. Hayes says we make our own fate, so why can’t I?

“How can I help ya?”

“I’m going to a black-tie affair this evening and I want a showstopper of a dress,” I say bluntly. “Like, make my man fall on his face, amazing. Do you have anything that fits that description?”

Her eyes light up and she practically vibrates in excitement.

“I’ve been waiting five years for someone to come in and say just that! Oh, this will be fun. I’m Angela. Haute Belle is my place, and we’re going to make your man trip over himself by the time we’re done here.”

“I’m probably a size six or eight depending on the cut,” I offer as I follow her around the store.

“Four, max,” she replies, pulling see-through garment bags off racks with lightning speed.

“Do you have magic dresses that are super forgiving or something?” I know my own dress size, and a four would make me look like a popped can of biscuits as the best-case scenario.

“Nah, sugar. I have corsets and magic seaming in these dresses. You’ll fit a four, promise.”

“Do you design the dresses?” I ask in astonishment as I look around at the veritable rainbow of gorgeous gowns.

“I sure do! I do most of the alterations, too, but I send my designs out to be manufactured because ain’t nobody got time for that.”

She leads me back to a big dressing room with really good lighting and starts hanging up dresses on the bar along one wall.

I look at the sequins and beading covering a navy gown next to me and shudder. My fingers hurt just thinking of the labor that went into it. I give in and hope something will work.

“Okay, Angela, do your thing.”

Two hours later I am nipped in, hemmed, and had bra cups sewn into the bodice of a stunning size four gown that is unlike anything I’ve ever worn before. Mama would most definitelynotapprove, but I think Hayes is going to be rolling up his tongue. Best of all, I feel incredible in it.

“Angela, you really are a miracle worker. I can’t believe how fast you work.”

“Girl, you’ve got a party to go to. Time is money. If you need anything, you know to come right back to me and I’ll get you all fixed up. I do bridal, too, if that man of yours knows what’s good for him when he sees you in this dress.”

A blush warms my cheeks as I grin. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Now, get! You have a man waiting on you and probably need to go to hair and makeup soon, anyway.”

My eyes widen. I hadn’t even thought that far ahead.

“You wouldn’t happen to know an artist that’s available today, would you?” I can do a decent job on my own hair and makeup, but this calls for something only a pro can deliver.

“Today must be your lucky day. My girlfriend is the best and I know for a fact she’s loafing around at home right now crying about a last-minute cancellation. Here, let me text her and get it set up for you. She makes house calls. That okay?”

I smile. “That’s even better.”

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