Page 36 of Champagne Fizz

“My eyes don’t water for no reason, girl,” Nanna scolds, removing her red glasses to wipe the emotion from her eyes.

“I love it so much,” Olivia says, admiring herself in the mirror at the end of the red carpet, which prompts grandma to jump up from the velvet couch and proceed to pinch and prod at her granddaughter’s dress. It’s clear she needs something to do with her hands so she doesn’t burst into tears.

“Yes, the dress doesn’t look half bad either,” Nanna remarks, which makes Olivia look at me and roll her eyes.

“I’m glad you likethe dresstoo, Nanna,” Olivia chides.

“I like the granddaughter,” Nanna says defensively. “The white rags work to get the job done.”

The boutique’s seamstresses steps in to check the fit and Olivia’s grandmother starts pinching fabric as if she needs to show the seamstress who’s boss.

Grandmothers always do.

“Fits the bubbies,” Grandma announces, making Olivia flush. “And it shows off those child bearing hips. That strapping man will see you in this fancy thing and jump straight to the boom-boom. Give me grandbabies likethat.” She snaps her fingers for emphasis.

“Nanna!” Olivia yelps. “I’m not going to be popping out tiny humans nine months from the wedding.”

“Why not?” Nanna frowns. “What’s the wedding for then? Big diamond. Ceremony. Boom-boom and then the whaaa-whaaa.” Olivia’s grandmother pantomimes rocking a baby in her arms. “You think that hunky man doesn’t know what to do? Do I need to give him a lesson in the birds and the bees?”

Olivia’s face burns bright pink. “You definitely do not!”

Nanna’s eyes narrow at her suspiciously.

“He knows what to do, grandma,” Olivia says. “No conversations, or diagrams, or, god-forbid, demonstrations. Thank you.”

My eyes widen at Olivia, not sure what a birds and bees demonstration from grandma might entail. Olivia shakes her head, and her eyes saydon’t ask.

“Ned and I aren’t going to start a family that quickly!” Olivia asserts, trying to brush Grandma’s hands away so the seamstress can do her job.

“Don’t worry. I’ll talk to him,” Grandma insists, taking Olivia’s hand and twisting it back to flash her engagement ring at her. “He followed my instructions on big rock and ring. I’ll find him and—”

“Don’t you dare corner him on wedding day and talk about babies!” Olivia practically shrieks. “You’ll scare him off and there won’t be any wedding.”

“I’ll be sure to keep grandma separated from Ned on the big day,” I chime in, winking at Olivia, before pulling up my phone and shooting off a text to Connor. I need to drill him for information about both Arie and their family situation.

“Don’t mix your messages, goddess girl,” Nanna sasses. “That dress says give me babies. No man can look at that and think anything else.”

“Well,” comes a male voice from behind us, “it’s definitely sexy.”

“No groom! No groom!” Nanna yells, rushing in front of Olivia and shooting her short arms out in a fruitless attempt at blocking his view of the dress. “No man! Ten years bad luck if you see her before the wedding. Bad boom-boom for ten years. And no whaaa-whaaa!”

“Last I checked, I’mnotthe one who proposed to Olivia.”

I twist on the couch to see Simon walking through the showroom door carrying a delivery bag and a black pastry box, which immediately makes my stomach tighten. He looks dashing with his hair combed back and a flirty smile on his face. How can one man make gingham and glasses look so snickerdoodle good?

He can snicker my doodle anytime, Lady Lada implies with some far-too-handsome happy thrumming down south.

“That’s Simon,” Olivia explains to her grandmother. “You know Simon. He looks nothing like Ned.”

“Man is man,” grandma harrumphs, trying to cover for her mistake. “Bad luck. Dressing gowns is a woman’s tradition. Man not invited.”

“Even if that man comes bearing pastries?” Simon asks, opening up the suspicious black box in his hand and turning the contents toward grandma as a peace offering.

“Are those Arie’s tarts?” Olivia exclaims, practically knocking her Nanna over as she swoops in to pluck one from the box. “Oh my gosh, they’re so cute. Look!” Olivia angles the tart in my direction just in time for me to catch Simon mouthingI’m sorryas I get an eyeful of what Arie’s sent.

The tarts are yellow. Yellow, with great big hearts on them.

Of course, they are.

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