Page 54 of No Vow Broken

“I’m really sorry about the dress. I know it meant a lot to you and you spent a significant amount of time picking out the perfect one. You really loved it, and surprisingly enough, I liked it, too. But it’s just a dress. We’ll figure something out.”

“No, that’s not it, Lexi.” Mom looked up at me and I was shocked to see tears swimming in her eyes. “Seeing that with bullet holes in it…It’s a sobering thing. I’m just incredibly grateful that you were not in that dress when that happened.” She threw her arms around me and squeezed me so tight I could hardly breathe.

After a moment, I put my arms around her and hugged her back. “It’s okay, Mom. I’m okay. We’re going to get through this.”

Mom squeezed one more time and then released me, carefully wiping the tears beneath her eyes. “Of course we’ll get through this. We’re Carmichaels, after all. Plus, we have to come up with a solution, since I’m in charge of the wedding dress disaster plan. Luckily, I have an idea.”

“Wait, there’s a disaster plan for the wedding dress?”

Mom exchanged a glance with Basia. “It wasn’t that detailed a plan, unfortunately. I only had three scenarios and, sadly, none of them involved assassination attempts.”

I decided I didn’t want to know more. “What’s your idea, Mom?”

She paused for a moment, apparently thinking how to present it. “Even though you’re a bit taller than me, we have similar builds in terms of our waists, shoulders and legs. You could wear my wedding dress, Lexi. It just wouldn’t sweep the ground like it did when I wore it.”

I blinked in surprise. Wearing my mom’s wedding dress had never,evercrossed my mind. An image of me walking down the church aisle in yards and yards of white gauzy fluff, a long train, and massive shoulder pads leaped to mind. The mere thought of it terrified me. Then I realized I couldn’t even remember what kind of dress Mom wore at her wedding, even though pictures of her and my dad on their wedding day had hung in the hallway of our house for years. The problem was my mom was so beautiful, the eye went straight to her face and stayed there. I had an eidetic memory, but only if I could recall the image. Right now, when I pulled up an image of the hallway photo in my mind, I saw nothing but her face. Yes, there was a white dress, but I could recall no detail. I guess the dress hadn’t ever interested me enough to actually study it.

“But…but you have boobs,” I protested.

Mom rolled her eyes. “First of all, I was twenty-one when your father and I got married. I was a lot thinner and smaller back then. Besides, it’s not that hard to adjust a bodice, especially if you are taking it in versus taking it out. My dress is fairly simple, if you remember, which, by the blank look on your face, I’m assuming you don’t.”

I grimaced, which was apparently answer enough for my mother.

Basia overheard the offer. “Oh, what a brilliant idea, Mrs. Carmichael. I love that idea. Lexi, you should totally run with this. Where’s the dress now?”

“In a cedar chest in my closet.” Mom stood up. “I’ll go get it.”

“I’m not sure how happy the Secret Service will be if you want to leave,” I said. “Not without an escort, anyway.”

“If they want to escort me home, then they’re welcome to do so. However, Iamgoing home to get my daughter a wedding dress. Let them try to stop me.” Mom put her hands on her hips with a determined glint in her eyes. I felt sorry for whichever agent she was about to face down. “How did the veil fare?”

I’d forgotten all about the veil. I reached into the mostly shredded bag and pulled it out. I moved the remains of my wedding dress onto the couch next to me and carefully spread the veil out on the coffee table where the dress had just been.

“It looks good,” I said, carefully surveying the material. “There are only a few small bullet holes. Definitely usable.”

I lifted my head to meet the skeptical looks of all three women. I didn’t understand why they were looking at me with such surprise. “No one is going to notice a couple small holes.”

“Acouple?” Basia said. “I can count four from where I’m standing, and I’m not even looking closely.”

“It’s not that bad.” I held up my hands. “None of the material is ripped, bloody, or torn. I’mnotshopping for a new veil. I like it. Mom picked this out for me, and I’m wearing it. No one cares about the veil anyway. All eyes on the dress, right?” I swallowed hard as I said it, dread creeping up from my stomach. If that dress was on me, then all eyes were on me—an idea I’d avoided thinking about and loathed with all my being. But that was part of being a bride, so I sucked it up and managed a smile.

Mom studied my face and—perhaps deciding her battles were best fought elsewhere—finally nodded. “Fine. The veil stays. I’ll be back in a bit. Stand by for Operation Wedding Dress Recovery.”

I raised an eyebrow at that. “Jeez, Mom. Now you’re starting to sound like Slash.”

“Apparently, that’s what I have to do if I intend to get my daughter married.” Mom tossed a look at me over her shoulder as she headed toward one of the agents, but it wasn’t an annoyed look. Instead, I saw grit and stubbornness. I’d learned so many new things about her in the past year, it continually surprised me that we weren’t as different as I’d always thought we were.

I’d learned that life was unpredictable like that.

I just had no idea how unpredictable things were about to become.

TWENTY-NINE

Lexi

Wednesday—three days before the wedding

Almost everyone slept in, exhausted from the prior day’s excitement. My brother Rock arranged for several of our family and guests to go to the hotel restaurant for a late brunch, but I declined to accompany them. Slash had left to try to line up some intelligence resources to help crack the mystery of our attackers, and I badly needed some alone time.

---