Page 1 of With This Ring

Chapter 1

Dakota swiped her hand over her forehead and moved the steamer over a wedding gown. Nearby, a dehumidifier and air-moving machine hummed. Her arm ached, but she ignored the pain and glanced around the large workroom at the back of her boutique, the Fairytale Bridal Shop. Several racks of gowns waiting their turn to be restored stared back at her.

It had been a month since late January, when the pipes had burst in her store. The leak had not only damaged the floor, ceiling, and walls but also waterlogged the first shipment of this year’s spring line—a huge investment that had cost her thousands. And thanks to the twenty-three-page lease agreement she barely understood and the ridiculously high deductible on her insurance policy, her only choice was to steam and try to restore the gowns herself. She didn’t even want to think about the money she’d lost on the ones that couldn’t be saved, but she wasn’t giving up. She would find a way to recoup as much as she could. She was a Jamison, after all, whichmeant she wasn’t a quitter. She’d keep fighting, no matter the obstacles.

But first she had to work on getting these gowns back out on the floor. Trying on dresses was a vital part of the bridal shopping experience, and customers couldn’t imagine a wrinkled gown being their dream dress. She was losing business, and if she continued to do so, she’d see her own dream—that of owning this boutique—go up in flames after only two years. Or maybe more accurately, in this case, the dream would go down the drain...

Dismissing her negative thoughts, she continued steaming the chiffon A-line gown before her. Its bikini neckline and asymmetric draped bodice had made it one of her favorites from the spring line. She was certain this was one gown that would sell as soon as she hung it back out front with the rest of her collection.

The bell on the front door dinged, and Dakota jumped with a start.

Customers!

She turned off the steamer and stowed it before brushing her hands down her gray top and black pencil skirt. Hoping she looked presentable, she hurried out to the front, where an instrumental version of Jason Mraz’s “I’m Yours” serenaded her from the speakers placed throughout her boutique. She shook her head and smiled. She had tried to create the perfect romantic playlist, hoping it would give the customers warm feelings about the dresses in her shop. She’d always believed the little details of her store mattered. But now as she moved past the half-empty shelves of shoes and clutches, the sparse racks of wedding gowns and bridesmaids’ dresses, the displays of tuxedos, and the elegant chairs and chaises arranged in front of the dressing rooms, she worried her limited stock would do just the opposite and discourage customers from purchasing.

“Welcome to Fairytale. I’m Dakota. How may I help you?”Her black stilettos clacked along the white tile floor as she came around the counter. Waiting for her were two young women who appeared to be in their midtwenties, clad in matching cranberry-colored puffer coats. Based on their similar facial structures, she assumed they were related—possibly even sisters. Their matching coats made them look cute and youthful.

One of the women held up a catalog opened to a page featuring a gown Dakota immediately recognized. The figure-hugging dress had a V-shaped neckline, long sleeves, a fine lace bodice adorned with sparkling beads, and a train that extended from the mermaid skirt.

This gown was supposedly going to be all the rage this season, and Dakota had planned to order at least two of them before the pipes burst.

“Do you have this dress?” the young woman asked.

Dakota’s attention was drawn to the young woman’s left ring finger, where a large diamond in a platinum setting sparkled. She did her best to keep a smile on her lips. “I don’t have that exact gown, but I have something similar.” She nodded toward the racks behind her and then took in the woman’s figure. “I would imagine you’re a six.”

The woman blinked with shock. “How’d you know that?”

“Lucky guess.” She’d always had a gift when it came to sewing, which included sizing up her clients on sight. “Would you like to see what I have?”

The bride-to-be and her companion shared a look before they followed her to her racks of gowns, where she located a satin dress with an organza ruffle mermaid skirt and a sweetheart neckline.Although both dresses featured a form-fitting bodice, this one did not have beading or a train.

“This gown is lovely and will be perfect on you,” Dakota told her. “It’s 30 percent off too. Would you like to try it on?”

The customer frowned. “That’s not exactly what I’m looking for.”

“Isn’t that style out of season?” The other woman leaned toward her companion and whispered, “That must be why it’s on sale.”

Dakota did her best to hide her disappointment. Itwasout of season, but classic never went out of style. The mermaid shape was always a favorite, with or without sequins and beads. “I have a few others you might like.” She pulled out three more dresses, but the women shook their heads.

“Well, thank you for your time,” the bride-to-be said.

“I don’t know why Karen recommended this shop. What a disappointment,” the second woman muttered on her way to the door.

“I’ll have newer dresses soon,” Dakota called as the women stepped onto Main Street, sending a gust of late February air into the store. “I hope,” she added with a wince.

If only she had the means to purchase more of this year’s gowns. She needed to call the insurance company again to demand they reimburse her for her lost stock, if only so she could afford more inventory.

When the door burst open and the bell rang, another blast of cold air filtered in.

“Auntie!”

Dakota managed a smile as her niece barreled toward the front counter, her long dark ponytail swishing behind her. She dropped her backpack on the floor behind the counter and began shucking her black coat, revealing a light-pink sweater that complemented her gray skirt and black boots.

“Hey, Skye.” Dakota joined her at the counter. “How was your Monday?”

Her niece hopped up onto the stool behind the counter. “I’m so done with high school.”

“Tomorrow is the first of March, and before you know it, June will be here and your junior year will be over.”

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