“Not something any of us can really prepare for.”
We turn onto a familiar street. “Rêve de Mode?” I guess.
“Amelia’s opening early for us,” she tells me, finally dropping her phone into her bag. “I’m sure we’ll find something perfect.”
We’re greeted warmly and with strong lattes that have just been delivered. Amelia’s a godsend.
“Thank you for opening.” I lift my cup. “And especially for this.”
“I’m glad to help,” Amelia says. “Besides I couldn’t be here at this time of day without some kind of crutch.”
Then she gently asks Bella and Alessia how Raffaele is doing.
Bella looks at me, and I nod, telling her to answer. “Holding his own for now. Thank you.”
“It can’t be easy.” Her wishes take in both of us. “I’ll keep your family in my thoughts.”
No wonder the two are such good friends. Amelia is as wonderful as Bella is.
After picking up her coffee, Amelia studies me. “I see why the emerald gown worked so well for you. Tall with the right curves. You’re a designer’s dream.”
“I’m not sure about that.” To cover my embarrassment, I smile, then pretend to be really interested in my latte.
“Do you have anything in mind?”
I shake my head. “Until half an hour ago, I had no idea I was getting married today. And with the venue… I’m not sure what’s appropriate.”
“We’re going to need pictures,” Bella says, taking over. And I’m grateful to have her here. “But given the circumstances…” She seems to swallow a knot in her throat. “Not a long gown or anything flashy.”
“I’ve got some ideas,” Amelia says.
Leaving her cup behind, she wheels a rack to the middle of the room. Then she moves through the store, selecting different choices.
They’re all so different, and I like them all.
One is pale pink, three are shades of cream and ivory.
“Would you like to try them on?”
I’m anxious to get back to Matteo, and I know Bella wants to be at the hospital every bit as much as I do.
“Or would you like my recommendation?”
“Please.”
“This one.” Amelia holds up a soft, off-white sheath.
I’m no expert when it comes to clothing, but the material could be a chiffon. As Amelia moves it around, it seems to flow.
“Let’s try this. If it’s not right, we’ll move to something else.”
While Bella drops into a chair and pulls out her chiming phone, Amelia leads me to the dressing room.
Within a minute, she’s fastening the tiny row of pearl buttons at the back. The dress falls just above my knees. And I trace the wide neckline that shows off my collarbones and shoulders without being too revealing. “What is this called?”
“A bateau,” she tells me. “Or in simpler terms, a boat neck.”
There’s a slight downturn near the shoulders. The dress also has cap sleeves. A narrow satin belt cinches my waist. There’s a timeless elegance to it, and I’m reminded of Audrey Hepburn. “It couldn’t be any more perfect.”