The Liar

The black dress would work for anything, no question—and had already done service at three Friday Nights. She’d yet to wear the silver gray one she’d brought with her from her closet up North. It just didn’t suit Friday Nights. But for this . . .

Taking it out, she held it up in front of her, turned to the mirror. The lines were a little more fluid, more flowy, and would play up the hair. Not the black shoes now, she decided. They’d be too stark. But she had those blue sandals with the low heels—low heels would be more practical anyway when she’d likely be running around half the night.

And the dress had slit pockets, so she could slip her phone right in, have it handy.

Decision made, she dressed, added long dangling earrings and a trio of thin, sparkly bracelets from Callie’s dress-up box.

She packed toiletries, a change of clothes since she was having her own overnight at Griff’s after the party.

In an hour flat, and feeling pretty damn good about herself, she got back in her car and drove to the hotel.

Shelby figured she’d spent more time there in the past three weeks than she had in the whole of her life, but it still made her smile to make that turn up the rising road and see the spread of the big stone building through the trees.

She parked, took the slate path toward the wide front veranda, where two big white pots held red and white begonias with some trailing blue lobelia.

If Emma Kate and Matt decided to have their wedding here, she imagined those pots spilling with yellow and lavender flowers.

Some of the staff greeted her as she crossed over the wide-planked floor of the lobby, headed straight for the ballroom.

Decorating was well under way, and she saw, happily, that she’d been right. The deep purple cloths over the white added casual elegance, the perfect canvas for the bowls of white hydrangeas and clear, square holders holding white tea lights.

A mix of high- and low-tops, of chairs and stools.

She planned to echo that on the terrace, add some freestanding urns with white calla lilies and roses, some peonies and airy, trailing greenery.

It was all so Emma Kate.

Spotting the florist, Shelby moved to her. “Point me where you want me.”

By the time the future bride and groom arrived, everything was in place—and she saw from the look on her friend’s face, every hour of work, every drive up and back, every banging Bitsy headache had been worth it.

“Oh, Shelby.”

“Don’t start watering up! You’ll have me doing it, and we’ll ruin our makeup. We both look amazing.”

“It’s so beautiful. Everything I wanted, and more I didn’t know I wanted. It’s like a dream.”

“It was our dream.” She took Emma Kate’s hand, and Matt’s, joined them. “Now it’s your dream. I now pronounce you engaged.”

“We have one more favor.”

Shelby reached in her pocket, pulled out her fist. “I happen to have one favor left over, right here. What can I do?”

“Matt and I decided on our song—at least for now. ‘Stand by Me.’ You know it, don’t you?”

“Of course I do.”

“We want you to sing it tonight.”

“But you’ve got a band.”

“We really want you to sing it.” Emma Kate took Shelby’s hand between both of hers. “Would you please, Shelby? Just that one song. For us.”

“I’d be happy to. I’ll speak to the band about it. Right now we’re going to get you a drink, and I’m going to show you around before people start getting here and you don’t have a minute.”

“Griff’s right behind us,” Matt said. “In fact, here he is now.”

“Oh, well, my! Look at you.” She brushed a hand down the lapel of his dark gray suit, and thought how lucky it was she’d worn the pale gray dress. “You’re so dashing.”

“Goddess of the mountain,” he murmured. “You take my breath.”

He lifted her hand, kissed it. She flushed—something she’d taught herself not to do—as a redhead—while still in her teens. “Thank you, sir. The four of us do look nearly as wonderful as the room. I think we should have the first glasses of champagne. And Emma Kate, I want to show you the terrace. We’ve strung little white lights in the potted trees. It’s a fairyland.”

“Flowers and candles and fairy lights,” Griff commented as they toured the space. “All the sparkle, none of the fuss.”

“I cut miles of frills out of Miz Bitsy’s vision, but I really do think she’s going to be pleased with how it all turned out. We might have a storm coming in, but not until after midnight.”

She tapped her pocket and her phone. “I keep checking my weather app, and so far, so good. There’s Miz Bitsy now. And doesn’t she look pretty in her long red dress? I’d better go talk to her.”

“Want backup?”

She grabbed his hand. “Do I ever.”

•   •   •

SHE DANCED WITH HIM. It didn’t occur to her until later that not once did a memory of other formal parties and elegant dress intrude. She never thought of Richard, who’d worn a tux as if he were born in one.

Everything centered on the moment.