“My fiancé has made me a true wine lover,” Gabi boasted.
“Fiancé?” Mrs. Cornwell asked.
“When is the wedding?” Mrs. Dray asked.
“Fall.”
“What an exciting time. Congratulations to you both.” The comments were homogenized and stale. Meg secretly wished the waiter would hurry with the whiskey.
“Is your gown strapless? So many wedding dresses are these days.”
Gabi looked at Alonzo and then to Meg. “I haven’t settled on one yet.”
Mrs. Dray and Mrs. Cornwell both dropped their smiles. “You’re marrying this fall and you haven’t chosen a dress yet?”
“That’s unheard of. My Millie had her gown six months before her wedding. It took longer to order it than she expected.”
“Then there are alterations. Lord knows how that can go wrong.”
Seemed the older women at the table had a lot to say about wedding dresses.
The waiter set Meg’s drink in front of her. “Bless you,” she whispered.
He grinned.
“You really must jump on the dress, darlin’.”
Gabi’s face had grown pale.
“I know some amazing designers in LA who work on Hollywood’s timeline of needing everything yesterday, Gabi. Maybe you can come back with us when we leave.”
The color in her friend’s face started to return.
“That’s ridiculous. There are plenty of dressmakers in South Florida,” Alonzo said.
“I like the idea of going to Los Angeles and finding the perfect dress.”
When Alonzo patted Gabi’s hand, Meg had a desire to kick him under the table. Instead, she nudged Michael and made sure he noticed the subtle gesture.
“I’m sure I can find you someone here you can trust to give you what you need.”
Before Meg could chime in, the older women did so for her. “The groom can’t see the dress before the big day.”
“Certainly not.”
Alonzo couldn’t get a word in, but he kept his hand over Gabi’s until she tugged it away to drink from her wineglass.
Michael diverted the subject. “Mr. Picano.”
Alonzo directed his attention away from Gabi.
“I have to tell you, last night we had a bottle of your 2009 merlot. It’s one of the best I’ve tasted,” he told him.
“Thank you. I’m surprised there are still bottles available. I thought that was one of the years needing replenishment.”
“There was a pallet of wine in the warehouse yesterday. I wonder if the merlot was part of those crates.”
“Wine left in a warehouse? That doesn’t sound right . . . not in this heat.” Mrs. Cornwell would know.
“They were cool, I assure you,” Gabi told the lady. “I thought maybe you’d come in early and delivered more wine. Julio seemed surprised they were there.”
Meg noticed Val’s rapt attention to the conversation.
“I’m sure your guests don’t want to hear about wine deliveries,” Alonzo said to Gabi.
“Or wedding dresses,” Mr. Dray added.
Mrs. Dray nudged him with her elbow. “We did that enough with Millie to last until the grandbabies are married.”
“I say we bully Michael into telling us about his next movie.” Ryder cut the conversation with his words and the men switched subjects.
Gabi listened without comment, her silence loud as anything Meg had ever heard. Sometime between appetizers and dinner, she stood to excuse herself to the restroom.
“I’ll join you.” Meg pushed away from the table. “I don’t remember where it is.”
The men sat back down as they walked away from the table and Gabi led the way out of the dining room.
As Meg expected, once behind the ladies’ room door, Gabi collapsed into one of the chairs and fought tears.
Meg grabbed a box of tissues from the vanity. “Don’t start that. Your makeup won’t hold up.”
Gabi grabbed a tissue and dabbed under her eyes. “He’s being awful.”
“Oh, I don’t know . . . Val’s quite charming.”
The smile Meg was reaching for never emerged from her friend. “He’s not like this.”
“Controlling, condescending, and difficult?”
“You see it, don’t you?”
Meg saw that and a whole lot more. “I think it’s important to see all sides of a person before you exchange wedding vows.”
Gabi abruptly stood and moved to the mirror. “I’m going with you to LA.” She turned. “If that’s really an invitation and not something said out of politeness.”
Meg stood beside her and adjusted Gabi’s dress. “I insist. There’s something else I want to do for you.”
“Oh?”
“One of my job descriptions is finding every minuscule part of a person’s present or past that might impede a contract between two parties.”
“You mean between Alonzo and I?”
“Marriage is a big step.”
A frown marred Gabi’s brow. “Isn’t that violating something?”
“It’s not illegal to ask around.”
“Moral?”
“I’m a Catholic Jew. Eat the bacon! Don’t eat the bacon, it’s a sin. I’m already morally messed up.”
Gabi finally laughed. “I’m rather fond of bacon.”
Chapter Fifteen
It killed Val to move about the night as if nothing was going on. Nothing appeared in his in-box all day; nothing arrived via mail. Dinner had been tense, but he couldn’t put his finger on why.