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got dirt all over this dress. My mother is going to seriously kill me.”

      Jack peered at her dress. “Don’t worry. I can get that out with a special mixture my dad came up with.”

      She arched an eyebrow in suspicion.

      “You don’t own a bar for as long as my dad did without having a great hangover cure and a fail-safe stain remover.”

      He held the door open and led Emerson through the back of the bar. He gestured for her to take a seat. She took a moment to observe the space. It was nice. The bar, a large, continuous square made of a dark wood, dominated the room. Glasses of various shapes and sizes hung from the shelving above it. And gold fixtures gave the place an old-timey feel, even if the gold needed a good polish. It reminded her of the reruns of the show Cheers. All it was missing was Norm and Cliff at one end of the bar.

      Jack appeared in front of her, with the bar separating them. He handed her a rag. “Just dab lightly at the dirt. Should come right out.”

      Miraculously, it did! She was saved, for now.

      “Thank you so much,” she said gratefully.

      “No problem.”

      She continued to inspect the dress and clean up any imperfections she found. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw movement and jumped out of her chair.

      “What is that?”

      “Huh?” Jack questioned. “Oh sorry. That’s Cosmo, my dad’s dog. Apparently.”

      Emerson clapped her hands together. “A dog!” She crouched down and the poodle-like dog pranced right over to her, with the charms on his collar jingling while he did.

      “Aren’t you the cutest thing? You are so handsome. Yes, you are.” She lost herself in petting the dog, who rolled right over on his back. She obliged by scratching his tummy. “Do you like your belly scratched? Yes, you do.” She met Jack’s unamused eyes. “He is the sweetest thing.”

      “Don’t be fooled,” Jack said dryly. “He peed on the floor ten minutes ago.”

      “Well, maybe you should have taken him out. It wasn’t your fault, cutie-pie. No, it wasn’t.” She took in Cosmo’s adorable little face, with his brown nose. “Are his eyes...green?” she asked Jack.

      “Seems like it. I’ve never seen a dog with eyes like that before. They’re very human. I feel like he looks at me and knows things he shouldn’t.”

      Emerson laughed. She picked up the dog and cradled him to her side, the way she would with a baby. Cosmo wrapped his legs around her and seemed quite content.

      “I can’t believe you’re picking him up,” Jack said. “Your dress.”

      Emerson absolutely adored dogs. Her mother had been firmly against them getting a dog, no matter how much Emerson and her sister had begged. Her dad begged too, for that matter. Of course, a dog would not have been good for her mother’s antiques and perfect house.

      “You better be careful.” Jack wagged a finger at her. “I’m not sure if my dad’s stain remover can get dog pee out of a wedding dress.”

      She kissed the top of Cosmo’s head. “You won’t go potty on me, will you? No, you won’t.”

      “You’ve been warned. Now, what can I get you?” Jack asked. “Water? Hot tea? Maybe a glass of wine? I have a nice sauvignon blanc.”

      “A beer would be great, actually. Whatever you have on tap that’s seasonal. And Cosmo needs some water.”

      He blinked, but quickly reached for a mug and pulled on the tab in front of him to fill up the beer. Once the frothy, amber-colored liquid was in front of her, Emerson downed half of it in a single gulp, relishing the malty taste.

      A look of surprise, followed by amusement, crossed his face. “Thirsty?” He filled up a bowl with water and placed it on the floor. Emerson let Cosmo down and the dog happily trotted toward the bowl and delicately lapped at the water. Satisfied, he returned to his bed, walked in a circle and then settled into a little ball.

      Emerson let out a burp. “Excuse me. My mother would kill me if she could see this.” She drank the rest of the drink and held the mug up. “Maybe a water now?”

      “Of course.” As he grabbed a clean glass and filled it with ice and then water, he eyed her. “Want to talk about it?”

      She liked his eyes. They were a dark chocolaty brown. Serious and mysterious, but there was that twinkle after all.

      Emerson took a sip of the water and settled in to explain. “My mother owns Dewitt’s Bridal, over on Prince Street.” She gestured in that direction now. “When she gets new dresses in stock, she asks me and my sister to try them on. She likes to see them on a real person before she recommends them to a customer.”

      “So you were helping your mom out?”

      “Basically.” She broke off as she looked down at the dress with an eye roll.

      “Go on,” he urged, waiting for her to finish her thought.

      But Emerson didn’t know what to say. What could she say really? The truth? Jack might be nice, and he had provided her with some much-needed alcohol during a trying moment, but he was still a stranger. Did she dare tell him that, as soon as she’d taken one look at herself wearing the wedding dress, in the three-way mirror, the air had whooshed out of her lungs? Her heart had begun beating so fast and so hard that she could practically hear it. The room had started to spin.

      She played with the straw in her glass of water.

      “Emerson?” Jack asked. “What happened? You seem...upset.”

      She sighed. “It’s stupid, really. I saw myself dressed like this and I freaked. I was being dramatic and unnecessarily emotional.” She attempted a smile and shrugged, trying to make light of the situation.

      The reality was the last time she’d been wearing a wedding dress, she’d been standing in the back of a church, waiting for her fiancé. But he hadn’t shown. Only the note had arrived.

      Jack’s eyes narrowed. “Climbing out of a window is a bit drastic. But something must have made you feel that way to need to escape so badly.”

      “Like I said, I overreacted. I’m just not that into weddings.”

      Jack nodded. “You don’t want to get married?”

       I did. He didn’t.

      Not being into weddings and not being into her marriage were two very different things. Emerson nodded. She agreed with Jack’s presumption because it seemed a lot simpler than going into the whole mess. Let him think she didn’t want to get married. It’s not like she’d see him again after today.

      “That must be hard, since your mom owns a bridal shop.”

      “Understatement.” She sat up straight and put on her best impression of a Southern accent. “Why, Beatrice Dewitt will have both of her daughters married faster than you can say mint julep.”

      Behind the bar, Jack grinned. Emerson felt lucky to already be sitting down. She was a sucker for a good smile on a handsome face.

      “Mama is from Spartanburg, South Carolina.”

      He met this information with a blank stare.

      “She was a deb. You know, a debutante?”

      His facial expression didn’t change. She was going to have to spell this out.

      “Southern women live for weddings. My mama’s chosen profession only adds to her wedding-mania. Being surrounded by silk organza gowns, lacy veils and sparkly accessories on a daily basis does nothing to suppress her desire to see me married.”

      “But you’re not engaged right now?”

      “I’m

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