Free The Last Oracle by Delia Colvin

she didn’t have an appropriate dress, this wedding was a far cry from what she had been willing to accept just a few days before.
    “I did bring a few sundresses—Oh! I have my navy blue pencil skirt and a white cotton blouse. It isn’t really a wedding gown, but it’s better than my blue jeans.”
    “I said I handled everything !” Camille said as she rolled her eyes. “You will have a gorgeous wedding gown. Don’t worry! Now get in the tub.”
    Luxuriating in the bath, Valeria took her time, dreaming of her long-awaited wedding, with her beautiful Alex—now only hours away—and then the wedding night...here, with her husband. After her bath, she threw her sweat suit back on and sipped a fresh cup of coffee. Today, she would absolutely hold to her two-cup rule.
    Camille made Valeria scrambled eggs with finely chopped vegetables and bacon, and then ensured that she ate every bite. That didn’t take much convincing—Valeria was hungry and it tasted wonderful. A knock came at the door and Caleb handed Valeria a bottle filled with a thick olive green liquid.
    “What, in God’s name, is that?” Camille said with disgust.
    “I knew you would love it!” Ava piped in from the couch as she casually flipped through L.L. Bean’s catalog.
    “ Ahh! Caleb, Tell Alex, thank you and that I love him and I can’t wait to see him in a few hours!”
    Caleb laughed. “He said to tell you that last night was the last night he’s spending away from you. Now, I have to go get ready to be the best man!” He turned and started to run down the stairs, and then spun around and rolled his eyes. “Oh, yeah, and he said to tell you he loves you, too.”
    The sun caught the edge of Valeria’s face; she moved to enjoy its warmth as she sipped her strawberry kale concoction. Then a car pulled up in front of the cottage. 
    “Right on time! Paolo’s wedding gift,” Camille said.
    Valeria nodded, suspiciously. Still, if it was all right with Camille, it was probably an acceptable gift.
    “Ava and I were in a panic about your wedding gown!”
    Without glancing up, Ava flipped a page in her magazine and said, “You were in a panic. I’m not that picky.”
    Camille ignored Ava and continued, “Then Paolo called and said that he had seen your wedding gown in Paxos at our home there. He had intended to re-create it for you. But when Alex called and said you were ready to be married by a preacher on safari—we all decided it was time to move on this now and there was simply not enough time to have that exact dress remade. So, Paolo picked one out that is absolutely beautiful, and I know you will love it. And, just as importantly, I know Alex will, too!”
    “ Paolo picked out my...” Valeria questioned in horror.
    Seeing her friends face go pale, Camille patted her shoulder and, attempting to sound calm, said, “If you don’t love it, I have several other options to choose from. Don’t worry.”
    The person at the door carried a long white garment bag. He hung it up on the door jam. Valeria stared at it, frozen. Camille unzipped the bag slowly, removed the dress, and held it up, turning it so that Valeria could see the back as well.
    It was very similar to the gown that she and Alex had selected—but with the richness of an antique gown from the 1930s. It was made of heavy silk satin. The gown was sleeveless and had a cowl front neckline, as well as a deep cowl in the back, with a body hugging bias cut and wrapping seams. She glanced at the A-line skirt and noticed how the back flared to an elegant train.
    Valeria’s eyes filled with tears and she lifted her fingers to her mouth. “Oh, my God,” she gasped staring at the gown.
    Camille’s eyes widened in concern and she clasped her hands nervously. “Don’t worry, okay? I know I have her number here. I’ll have them bring up the others.” Camille tried to calm her inner hysteria. She had guessed wrong. Now they needed the other gowns—none of which, in Camille’s