Becoming My Ex’s Mother in Law by Aurora Starling
Chapter 17

Chapter 17 

Andrew was silent for a few seconds. Then he said, with a stare that could melt ice, “Prepare a perfect wedding for my daughter.” 

I was taken aback.. 

“Of course, of course.” 

Did he sense something about my intentions? 

I suddenly felt guilty, but I wasn’t sure why. 

I had a sense of obligation to Andrew and Lisa to make this wedding the best that it could be. It was supposed to be a magical day for Lisa, something that she would never forget, and I was planning to ruin it for my own selfish reasons. That was without mentioning how much money Andrew had already spent on the wedding. 

At the same time, Bob wasn’t suitable to be Andrew’s son–in–law, Andrew deserved to know what kind of man he was welcoming into his family. Bob was so skilled at deception that he must have sold himself as the perfect son–in–law for Andrew and husband for Lisa, and I wasn’t sure how to break that spell over them. 

I sighed. 

“You can trust that I will make the wedding the most successful it can be,” I added, choosing my words carefully. If the wedding was doomed from the start, it wouldn’t be my fault if it failed. 

Andrew nodded, seemingly satisfied with my answer. 

“Thank you. I’ll hold you to that.” 

My stomach churned, and I tried to convince myself that nothing I said was wrong. 

As Andrew suggested, I went to see Mr. Vanderbilt in person. I was relieved to find that the address was Mr. Vanderbilt’s business, not his home address. I would’ve hated to bother someone who didn’t like people in his personal space. 

The front of the dress shop was small but well kept. It was filled with a variety of dresses, from ballgowns to wedding dresses in a rainbow of colors. A small stool sat in the middle of the store for clients to stand on while taking their measurements. 

Behind the counter stood an elderly man stooped over an accounting book. He was smaller than I but still seemed rather healthy for his age. His clothes were old–fashioned yet immaculate, and his gray hair stuck out at odd angles, as though electrified. 

He didn’t appear that eccentric to me. 

“Good day, sir,” I said as I entered the store. “Are you, by any chance, Nikolas Vanderbilt?” 

He glanced up, his electric blue eyes staring a hole into me. 

“Yes. How may help you?” His tone was icy cold. 

I took a deep breath and met his eyes. 

“Zero,” Susan said. “He does not like us already.” 

My heart leaped into my throat. I had to fight the urge to retreat. Still, I reminded myself that this was my responsibility and that I had to be the one to solve this problem. 

“My name is Crystal Blanchard. I was referred to you by the Alpha King.” 

I cringed at the name–dropping, but if there was any time to do it, it would be now. 

Mr. Vanderbilt arched a brow at me. 

“Oh, you were, were you?” 

“Yes, He told me that you could help me with a ruined wedding dress.” 

“And so you decided that you would just come down here, interrupt my day, and assume that I was going to help?” 

“No, no, of course not.” 

I leaned on the counter, careful not to invade Mr. Vanderbilt’s personal space but still getting close enough to create a personal connection with him. 

“I just find that business transactions are always better to handle in person, rather than over the phone. Over the phone can be so cold and impersonal.” 

Mr. Vanderbilt huffed, but he also seemed to relax a little. 

“Some people like the distance from other people. They prefer to be alone,” he countered. 

“True, but people are pack animals by nature-“I took a deep whiff- “werewolves especially. We can all use some company, sometimes.” 

He hummed. 

“Well, your senses are very sharp.” He closed his accounting book. “Well, show me the dress in question.” 

I took out my phone and pulled up a picture of Lisa’s ruined dress, both before and after the fire. 

Mr. Vanderbilt looked over the pictures a couple times, then shook his head. 

“I’m sorry, but I can’t.” 

Our eyes met again. 

“Fifty,” Susan said. 

“My client and I can pay you handsomely for the work.” 

“Your client is the Alpha King, correct?” 

I nodded. 

“How long?” 

I gave him the date of the wedding. 

He seemed to consider it but shook his head. 

“No, I’m sorry. I can’t do it! 

“Can’t or won’t?” 

“Won’t. I’m afraid I’m far too busy.” 

“How about we pay double your normal rate?” 

“No, I’m sorry. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some work to get back to.” 

I knew when I was being brushed off, so I took my leave. I went to the nearest hotel and checked in. As I 

settled into my room, I got a call from Andrew. 

“Hello?” I answered. 

“Hi, Crystal. It’s Andrew. I was just calling to ask about your progress on the dress, 

Internally, sighed, but I did not let anything on externally. 

“Everything is going just fine.” 

“So, you’ve gotten him to agree?” 

I cringed. 

“No, not yet, but I’m working on it.” 

“Do you want me to come down there?” 

“No! I just need to stay here and look for opportunities.” 

“If you’re sure…” 

“I’m sure.” 

There was no way that I was going to let Andrew think that I couldn’t handle this on my own. 

Over the next couple days, I spent my time strolling through the small town, trying to figure out what to do to convince Mr. Vanderbilt to fix the dress. What I found instead were shops filled with antiques that would make for great wedding decorations and even a couple vintage wedding dresses. I sent pictures of them to Lily, and each time, Lily approved their purchase or the purchase of something similar at a discounted price. When I wasn’t coming up with new ideas for the company, I was talking with Andrew over social media about what I could do regarding Mr. Vanderbilt. Every time I tried his advice out, Mr. Vanderbilt seemed to warm up to me more, though nothing was enough to get him to agree. Still, it felt good to be making progress and to have Andrew show so much support for me. 

I just wished that I knew what it would take to get Mr. Vanderbilt to agree, without breaking the bank. 

Then, during one of my strolls, I noticed Mr. Vanderbilt walking toward me. He wore a nice, if a bit dated, black suit and carried a bouquet of flowers. 

“Mr. Vanderbilt!” I called out, waving. “Mr. Vanderbilt!” 

He ignored me, as though I weren’t there, and crossed the street. 

sed the street to the park. 

I was a bit irked that he had blown me off yet also curious as to what he was doing, so I paused for a minute before following him across the street. Hiding behind some trees, I followed Mr. Vanderbilt until he reached a bench. On it sat an elderly woman wearing a pink dress. 

Mr. Vanderbilt bowed to the woman as well as his old frame could, then presented his flowers to her. She took them with a look of absolute joy and love on her face. She k*ssed his cheek, and he beamed back at her. 

It hit me like a ton of bricks: Mr. Vanderbilt was on a date. 

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