Chapter 16

Chapter 16

My heart raced. Andrew Dubois was really flirting with me.

We pulled up to the bridal shop. Andrew turned to face me, and our eyes locked. “Ninety percent,” Susan said with certainty.

I smiled to myself. I reached for my seatbelt, then paused when Thad an idea.

“Would you like to come in and go over some details for the wedding?” I asked. “Since you’re already here, that

Andrew shook his head reluctantly.

“I would love to, but I have some urgent business matters to attend to.”

My heart sank.

He reached forward and tucked a stray hair behind my ear, running his fingers across my chin as he lifted my face toward him. My skin tingled where his fingers touched me.

“Next time,” he said, his voice almost a whisper.

I nodded, though my disappointment did not ease.

“Next time.”

We said our goodbyes, and I got out of the car. With a heavy heart, I watched as Andrew raced away.

I just didn’t get it. How could Susan say that Andrew had a 90% liking score for me when he only maintained a flirtatious relationship with me? We were supposed to be mates; how could this be?

-I figured out what I had smelled the day the fire had started: gasoline. I could smell it on the remains of the

most destroyed dress. Twasn’t sure how the firemen didn’t catch it, unless they had been told not to.

Only someone of means could have told them that, and I could only think of one person who could possibly gain from the bridal shop catching on fire. Only one person who could gain from ruining my life…and almost costing me it.

I was certain Bob had something to do with the fire, and he would have had the money and influence to tell the firemen to ignore particular details in their report. Still, I didn’t have any evidence.

Bob had an iron–clad alibi. He had been with Lisa, escorting a human princess to a fashion show. That didn’t mean that he didn’t have someone else commit the act for him.

It might have even been that couple that had been in the shop when the fire started. One might have been meant to distract us while the other started a fire among the dresses. It would explain why the woman had taken so long looking at them.

Yet again, I didn’t have any evidence besides the gasoline smell. According to the firemen, everything suggested that it had been an accident. For now, I had to believe them.

That did not mean that my war with Bob was off. No, it was only beginning

Still, I had much more important things to focus on than him–starting with Lisa’s dress.

I tried to find someone in town to repair the dress, but there were constant obstacles. The timeline was too long, the cost was too high, or, often, the dressmaker simply thought that there was nothing that could be done to recover it.

“You’ll just need to start over,” they’d say and try to give me a quote.

Even with Andrew paying for it, the cost of remaking the dress on the new timeline was too high. I needed to figure out a solution, and fast.

Then one evening, Andrew came over to discuss the wedding, again.

The first words out of his mouth were, “How is the restoration of the dress going?”

I hesitated to answer.

“Not well,” I said after a minute of silence.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“All the dressmakers in town seem to think that it’s beyond repair. Everyone who thinks that they can repair it. will either need longer than we have or more money than we can spare. Anyone else is asking for way too much to make a new one from scratch on our timeline.”

Andrew rubbed his chin in thought.

“And have you tried anyone out of town?”

“A few people, but their answers have been virtually the same.”

He nodded, obviously deep in thought.

“Honestly,” I continued, “I’m at a loss as for what to do. I’ve called everyone I can think of, and I’ve exhausted all the resources Lily’s provided me…

I snapped my mouth shut and quit talking. I knew that I shouldn’t let a client know that we were having such. difficulties overcoming a challenge with a wedding, but for some reason, it was so easy to get lost talking to Andrew. I couldn’t help myself.

After a couple minutes of silence–to the point that I was starting to get anxious–Andrew said, “I might have an answer to your problem.”

I tilted my head at him, trying to remain calm but internally freaking out at the possibility.

“Oh?”

“Yeah. I’m thinking of a dressmaker in a remote town named Nikolas Vanderbilt. He’s known for being a bit-” Andrew pursed his l*ps- “peculiar.”

I frowned.

“Peculiar“?”

“Yes, eccentric. He’s just a bit different, is all.”

I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. However, if this eccentric dressmaker could be the answer to my dress problems, then I’d be willing to work with peculiar.

“Tell me a bit more.”

“He…well…he doesn’t really like very many people. Or the idea of people at all, really!

I swallowed against the knot in my throat. That might be a bit harder to work with, but I had dealt with difficult people in this line of work–plus at the prison–before, so it wasn’t beyond the scope of possibility. “Are you sure that he can help?” I asked, trying not to sound too eager or too skeptical.

“If you can persuade him, I believe you’ll be pleasantly surprised.”

“You mean he can restore the dress to its original condition?”

“Absolutely. He might even make it more beautiful.”

My eyes widened at the idea. That dress had been elegance personified. How good could this person be that Andrew thought that he could make it look even better?

“Really?”

“Like I said, might. And you would still have to persuade him.”

He grinned at me then.

“I don’t think that you’ll have any problems with that, though. You always seem able to charm your way right into people’s hearts.”

My heart fluttered when he gave me a wink. I composed myself as well as I could.

“So, do you by any chance have Mr. Vanderbilt’s information?”

“Yes, I do. At least, I know it off–hand.”

He pulled the binder over to him and scribbled an address, including the town name and Mr. Vanderbilt’s full name, at the top of the first page he turned to.

“I don’t know his phone number, but I know his address. You might have more luck with him in person than over the phone, anyway.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem.”

It would be easier for me to gage how much Mr. Vanderbilt liked me in person, anyway. Hopefully, he wouldn’t mind me paying him a visit in person without warning.

After Andrew finished writing down the information, I took out my cell and snapped a picture of it.

I was positively giddy with relief and excitement. I beamed up at Andrew. He saved my job.

“How can I ever thank you?”