Wedding Vows: Just Married. Nancy Warren
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and intermingling. Somehow she suggested movement through color. Without including a single circus element, she’d caught the energy of Cirque du Soleil. “It’s brilliant,” Karen agreed.
“Glad you like it. I’ll probably add a few elements, but this is the basic idea.” She stuffed the book into her bag. “Well, I’ve got to go to my Vinyasa flow class. See you later.” And she was gone.
“Sometimes I wonder if she’s real or a figment of my imagination,” Karen said after the door closed silently.
“I know. Nobody should be that quiet. Or serene. It’s kind of creepy.”
“What’s creepy is that she weighs ninety pounds soaking wet and works with cake all day. It’s not fair.” She stared at the door broodingly. “What is Vinyasa flow anyway?”
“Some kind of yoga, I think.”
“Maybe I should take up yoga. Maybe I’d end up as thin as Laurel.”
Chelsea shook her head. “Are you back to that again?”
“Did I ever leave it?”
“Someday you will meet a man who adores your curves.”
“I should have been born in the era of Mae West and all those tiny, chubby pin-up girls.” She put her hands on her ample hips. “Instead, I come of age when the ideal is a ten-foot-tall anorexic. It’s not fair.”
“I would think a lot of men would prefer a curvy woman to an elongated skeleton.”
Karen thought of her and Dex on her desk and felt heat suffuse her face.
Chelsea was quick to pick up on it. “Oh, no. Look at you blushing and staring at the floor. Have you met such a man?”
“No. Not exactly.” And she realized that her feelings about Dex were far too confusing to share with anyone. Instead she said, “That CPA e-mailed me. He said he enjoyed our coffee date.”
“That’s great, right?”
“Yes, I suppose. I didn’t think it was a very exciting date though.”
“Give the guy a chance. You said yourself he was nice.”
“He was. You’re right.” And maybe a nice man was exactly what she needed to keep her thoughts off a certain architect. “I should suggest dinner or a movie or something.”
“That’s the spirit. And he’s not the only single man in Philly, you know. Who else is out there?”
She glanced up and put a hand over her mouth. “I keep forgetting to check the Web site.”
Unfortunately for her, when she got back to her office for her rescheduled meeting with Sophie, Dexter had come along. For some reason she’d assumed he’d have enough tact not to show. Seemed she’d been wrong. She refused to blush when she met Dex’s knowing gaze.
“Sophie, it’s nice to see you again. What did you think of the bridal salons I suggested?”
“Fantastic. I found my dress. Look, I brought you a picture,” the woman gushed pulling out her digital camera. She’d chosen a perfect dress for her figure. Sleek and simple.
“Very classy,” Karen said approvingly. “And for the bridesmaids?”
“I went with blue. It’s Andrew’s favorite color and he’s not here to help choose anything, so at least I’m keeping him in mind.”
“That’s nice. And it’s a good blue for a winter wedding.” She consulted her notes. “Let’s see, you’re getting married at your aunt’s house in mid February.”
“Closest Saturday to Valentine’s Day we could find.”
“That’s sweet,” she said in her professional tone, controlling her gag reflex with an effort. “In my experience the men don’t get too involved in the wedding details.”
“Except for Dexter here. I don’t know what I’d have done without him.”
She sent him a thin smile and he responded with a wink. Suddenly he rose. “I’ve been meaning to tell you how much I like this desk, Karen,” he said, walking toward it, standing in the very spot he’d stood when she’d so wantonly let herself be carried away by lust.
Heat suffused every inch of her body from her toes to the roots of her hair. She watched, unable to think of a thing to say as he ran his hands along the edge of the curved wood, caressing the grain the way he’d caressed her skin. “It’s a lovely piece. Classy.” He leaned against it. “Seems sturdy, too.”
He must know it was since it had held up under the strain of them having sex on it.
“I didn’t know you were interested in antiques, Dex,” Sophie said, thankfully looking at the desk and not at Karen who was forcing her blush down. The curse of being a redhead.
“I like classics,” he said.
“Well, we all do,” Karen interjected. “And I think your dress is absolutely classic. Now, I was talking to the florist this morning about you. I know you were keen on a garden theme even though we’ll need to be indoors. He’s a genius. He’s suggesting pots of forced blooms and he wonders if you want to think about a four-seasons garden. His idea is that love is eternal, like an ever-blooming garden.”
“Oh, what a fantastic idea. I love that,” Sophie exclaimed. “And do you think he could include a few Italian plants since Andrew’s family is Italian and he’s been spending so much time in Italy?”
“I’ll make a note of it,” Karen said. “If you like the idea, he’ll draw something up for you to look at.”
Dexter didn’t say much more during the meeting, but he didn’t seem able to keep his hands off her desk.
She could barely concentrate. And the fact that Dexter knew exactly what he was doing to her, only made her more furious.
CHELSEA CAME INTO Karen’s office with the spinach salad she hadn’t had time to pick up and a formidable looking woman in a power suit and a riot of black curls framing a face dominated by big blue eyes and a square, “don’t make me hit you” jaw.
“Do you have a minute if I bribe you with food?” Chelsea asked.
“Of course. Not that I consider salad food.”
“You should have let me pack you a dessert.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
Chelsea shot her a frustrated glance that suggested she’d soon be hearing some story about how fat was the new thin. But for now they weren’t alone so she figured she was safe.
“This is David’s sister, Sarah. She’s getting married.”
“Congratulations.” Karen smiled politely but it was hard to hold herself back from outright laughing. Most brides came in looking excited, or nervous or blissed out on love.
Sarah seemed irritated about her impending bridalhood.
“Thanks. I’ll be honest. I don’t have a lot of time to plan a wedding, I’ve got a busy law practice, but I don’t want a lot of hearts and flowers. And I won’t be wearing white.”
Fortunately, Chelsea had warned her about Sarah. The woman was a classic type A, an aggressive up-and-coming divorce lawyer who’d fallen for a school guidance counselor and part-time yoga teacher. Karen loved opposites-attract couples, but she had a feeling this was going to be one of the weirder pairings that made her job so much fun.
“You can wear whatever you want,” Karen assured her. “Though popular tradition that wearing white is a symbol of purity isn’t correct. The Greeks wore white as a color of celebration.”