Ivy Morris never thought she’d be walking her new stepmother down the aisle to her father. Not a flawless event, because, really, when is anything in Ivy’s life flawless? At least she avoids tripping. It’s the reception that has the flaw. The wedding singer nearly chokes to death on a glass of water, and then Ivy’s sister finds something unexpected in the parking lot.
And that’s not all. Something odd is going on in the sleepy little town of Martha’s Point — for some reason, no female under the age of fifty can keep her hands off Ivy’s boyfriend. Ivy’s little shop enjoys a tremendous increase in business as those women keep running in to buy more new sexy lingerie, but her heart is anything but happy.
What will it take to solve these mysteries? Is Ivy up to it? Well, she’s about to find out.
“I wonder what’s up with Shelley.” Bella freshened her lipstick, which looked like it had been chewed off. Had she done that herself, or had her new squeeze, Officer Jared, done it for her? I really envied her freedom to do whatever she wanted whenever the mood struck her.
“It’s like an epidemic today,” I said. “Some woman at the dress shop sewed up most of my dress wrong and I could barely fit into it. When Sarah, the owner, finally got hold of me, she gave it a couple of tugs and, voila, it fit like a dream. I don’t get it.”
“I wouldn’t worry. Let’s get you taken care of as best we can and get back out there. I left Jared with a very strained expression on his face, and I don’t want it to go away before I’m good and ready.”
Bella, the eternal sexpot. I wished I could call myself the kettle.
Instead, we went back out to the table with my hair pulled into a messy but chic ponytail. Thank goodness Bella had a pair of earrings in her purse that hung almost to my shoulder. They made the stubby ponytail look a little less fourth grade and more fancy college co-ed. I hadn’t done anything with the degree I had received other than be an admin assistant, but I could look the part, I guessed.
When we arrived back at the table, Ben rose from his chair and helped me into mine. He could be a gentleman when he wanted to be. Not that he was a complete jerk at other times, but he did have his moments of over-the-top arrogance.
Misty Simon loves a good story and decided one day that she would try her hand at it. Eventually she got it right. There’s nothing better in the world than making someone laugh, and she hopes everyone at least snickers in the right places when reading her books. She lives with her husband, daughter and three insane dogs in Central Pennsylvania where she is hard at work on her next novel or three. She loves to hear from readers so drop her a line at firstname.lastname@example.org