Page 2 of Been There Dragon That
“Rylee, you look worried. What’s wrong?” Her mother was wearing the same what's-really-going-on look that she’d worn the night Rylee had punched her sweet-sixteen-party escort for sexual harassment. She hadn’t been mad at Rylee for punching the guy, only for trying to hide why she’d done it.
Rylee shrugged and tried to force her doubts about Jeff away. “Just nerves. One week. It’s so close. It’s hard to believe.”
She should ask her mother’s advice, shouldn’t she?
She really should. Just … not right now.
Rylee looked back at her reflection in the mirror. The dress was everything she’d ever dreamed it would be. And her mother’s face was filled with so much joy.
Ruining this perfect moment wasn’t an option.
“Well, the wedding planner has a few more things on our list to approve today.” Her mother pushed a stray lock of hair from Rylee’s cheek and tucked it behind her ear. “Why don’t you take a few more moments to soak in the splendor of that dress, and then we can finish up. Your dad has that dinner gala tonight with clients and potential investors. Are you still up for that?”
Shit.
Rylee had completely forgotten about the gala. How was she going to act like everything was fine? What if Jeffrey kissed her and she flinched? If she broke up with him, it was going to be a scandal, and her parents would be humiliated.
She didn’t care what people thought of her. But ruining her parents’ reputation or putting a stain on her family name, that thought made her blood freeze over.
“Mom.” This was it. She was going to pull a full stop on the wedding. It was the better choice.
“Honey?”
Nope, can’t do it.Rylee forced out an I'm-okay smile.
“Nothing. I’m good. I’m looking forward to the gala and seeing dad. He’s been gone for weeks.”
Her mother cupped Rylee’s face and stared deep into her eyes.
Rylee could feel her mom peeling away the steel façade Rylee had erected around her emotions like it was no more than tissue paper.
“Rylee Agatha Florence, if something’s wrong, you can tell me. You know that. Anything. No matter what. Even if it means this wedding doesn’t happen. Do you hear me?”
Tears burned from behind Rylee’s eyes, but she didn’t let them fall. She nodded. And pulled away. “It’s just nerves, Mom. I promise.”
That had been the moment.
Her mom had given her an opening, and she’d let it float away like a kid watching their balloon sail up into the sky.
Suck it up, Ry. Make this work.It was nothing. It had to be a misunderstanding. He can’t be what you’re thinking. You heard wrong.
Rylee took a careful step off the dais in front of the mirror. “Can you undo me, please?”
Her mother took another extra-long pause and then helped get all the laces and hooks undone on the back of the dress. It slipped to the floor. A puddle of white and lace and dreams.
Her mother gathered it up and marched it over to the door of the large fitting room.
The boutique attendant took the dress, and then another young woman–this one in her thirties with bright blonde hair and an Elle Woods powder pink suit and matching pink stilettos–popped her head in. “Can I come in and go over the rest of our agenda for today?”
It was a lot of pink. Even for a My Little Pony fanatic.
Her mom stepped back and coughed to cover a laugh. Almost made it.
Margaret Florence had been raised on one of the largest cattle ranches in Texas. Stilettos and pink suits weren’t in her wardrobe. Never had been. And even now, after years of being married to a real estate mogul, she still preferred jeans and boots. Designer jeans and boots, but still. Her mom always kept it simple, classy, and western. And other than her bleached blonde hair color, Rylee favored her mom's rustic fashion sense.
“Of course, Sarah. What’s on the agenda?”
Rylee yanked her jeans back on, tucked in her white button down top, and buckled the thick western leather belt. Then she sat on the low couch where her mom had been sitting and shoved her feet into her well-worn turquoise and brown Lucchese boots.
