Enchanting Melody by Robyn Amos Page B

lent her. This, once again, was one of the many events that Mel had unwittingly agreed to in advance—a bridesmaids’ appreciation dinner.
    Knowing that Stephanie must have planned this dinner months in advance brought on a flood of guilt. There was still the matter of the bridal shower that Mel had yet to plan. At least three times a day her mother called her voice mail with shower-planning to-do items. The thought of wading through those messages, let alone carrying out the orders, made Melody physically ill. So, once again, she pushed the entire fiasco to the back of her mind. She’d work something out. Arranging cake and punch wasn’t that big a deal, right?
    Finally, seated at a high-backed, round, black velvet booth, Melody slipped off her shoes and sighed with relief. The other four women were busy cooing and oohing over the elegant Egyptian decor.
    The restaurant was dark, with gold-trimmed black furnishings. Egyptian elements were tastefully worked in without an overdone themed feel of Disneyland or Las Vegas. Chunks of stone hung on the walls featuring large hieroglyphs, and a large mural of Isis, the goddess of fertility and motherhood, hung over the bar.
    When the waiter arrived at the table, Melody took the initiative. “Okay, I think we need to start this girls’ night out with a toast. Bring us a round of those High Priestess martinis.” And when she spotted the eager grin on her youngest sister’s face, she added hastily, “And a virgin daiquiri for Vicky.”
    When the drinks came, the women toasted Stephanie’s upcoming wedding, and, as the drinks flowed, the toasts became sillier.
    Mel raised her glass toward the mural of Isis across the room. “May Isis, the great mother of fertility, bless you and Keenan with ten children.”
    Stephanie nearly spat out her drink and immediately changed the subject by toasting to their handsome waiter’s derriere and the free drinks he kept bringing them.
    Stephanie elbowed Melody in the ribs. “I think he’s got his eye on you. You should flirt with him.”
    â€œThere’s no need to flirt with him,” Mel said, narrowing her eyes at her sister. “He already brought us the drinks. Besides, I don’t flirt.”
    â€œHe’s cute and he’s just your type. He could be your date for the wedding.”
    Stephanie was right. He was the type of guy she normally dated. His dark hair was very short and spiky and he had a silver piercing in his right eyebrow. But as she watched him from across the room, she had to admit her taste in men had taken a turn lately. Smooth sophistication was the new reckless rebellion this spring.
    â€œSorry, he’s just not doing it for me. And don’t you worry about my date for the wedding, I’ve already got someone in mind.”
    Stephanie’s eyes lit up. “You do? Who is it?”
    Suddenly Mel realized that she’d said too much. “Vin Diesel.”
    â€œOh,” Stephanie groaned, waving her off.
    Vicky sipped her frozen daiquiri and glanced over her shoulder at the handsome waiter. “Okay, if you don’t want him, I’ll take him.”
    â€œHe’s all yours, Vicky, but you can’t come stay with me when mother throws you out of the house.” Melody laughed and excused herself from the table. After two rounds of martinis it was time to find the ladies’ room.
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    â€œA lot of people think Mariah’s a diva, but when we hang out, she’s just one of the girls.” Valencia’s glossy pink lips were almost hypnotic in their ceaseless movement.
    Will smiled politely at his date, more certain with each passing minute that this evening had been a mistake. Valencia, while very attractive, had not stopped talking about herself since they’d arrived.
    Will had initially been impressed that his date had whisked them to the top of the waiting list for NewYork’s hottest new restaurant. Isis