Bride Quartet Collection (47 page)

Laurel pushed up. “Let’s go shopping.”

W
HEN INSPIRATION STRUCK, EMMA RAN WITH IT. IT TOOK SOME juggling and a client flexible enough to bump up a consult by an hour, but she managed to clear her Monday afternoon.

She planned to surprise Jack with a twist on their usual Monday night date.

On the way out she stopped by the main house and tracked down Parker in the office.

Parker paced, her headset in place, and rolled her eyes when Emma came in.

“I’m sure Kevin’s mother didn’t mean to be critical or insulting. You’re absolutely right, it is your wedding, your day, your choice. You’re entitled to . . . Yes, he is very sweet, Dawn, and extremely well behaved. I know . . . I know.”

Parker closed her eyes, mimed strangling herself for Emma’s benefit.

“Ah, why don’t you let me take care of this for you? It would take the stress off you and Kevin. And sometimes an outside party is better able to explain and . . . I’m sure she doesn’t. Yes, of course. I’d be angry, too. But—But . . . Dawn!” Her tone sharpened just a fraction, enough, Emma knew, to shut down whatever rant the bride might be on. “You have to remember, above anything else, any detail, any complication or disagreement, the day and everything about it is for you and Kevin. And you have to remember, I’m here to see that you and Kevin have the day you want.”

This time Parker shot her gaze to the ceiling. “Why don’t you and Kevin go out and have a nice dinner tonight, just the two of you? I can make a reservation for you wherever . . . I love that restaurant.” Parker scribbled down a name on a pad. “Say seven? I’ll take care of that for you right now. And I’ll speak to his mother this evening. By tomorrow, everything will be fine. Don’t worry about a thing. I’ll talk to you soon. Yes, Dawn, that’s what I’m here for. Good. Great. Mmm-hmm. Bye.”

She held up a finger. “One more minute.” Once she’d contacted the bride’s choice of restaurant, wrangled a reservation, she pulled off the headset.

Parker took a breath, let out a short but enthusiastic scream, then nodded. “Better. Much better.”

“Dawn’s having a problem with her soon-to-be mother-in-law?”

“Yes. Oddly, the MOG doesn’t understand or approve of the bride’s choice of ring bearer.”

“It’s really not her—”

“Which is Beans, the bride’s Boston bull terrier.”

“Oh, I’d forgotten about that one.” Emma’s brow creased. “Wait. Did I know about that one?”

“Probably not, as she only told me a couple of days ago. The MOG thinks it’s silly, undignified, and embarrassing. And said so in very clear terms. The bride’s decided her future mother-in-law is a dog hater.”

“Is he wearing a tux?”

Parker’s lips twitched “At this point, just a bow tie. She wants the dog, she gets the dog. So I’ll ask the MOG to have a drink with me—as such matters are best done in person and with alcohol—and smooth this over.”

“Good luck with that. I’m heading into town. I’m going to surprise Jack, cook him dinner, so I won’t be back until morning. But I’m also going to see if you and Laurel left any sexy summer clothes anywhere in Greenwich.”

“There may be a halter top left. Possibly one pair of sandals.”

“I’ll find them. I’m going to the market, and by the nursery. Is there anything you need? I can drop it back by in the morning.”

“Are you going by the bookstore?”

“I’m going to town; what would my mother say if I didn’t drop in?”

“Right. She’s got a book I ordered.”

“I’ll get it for you. If you think of anything else, just call my cell.”

“Have fun.” As Emma left, Parker looked at her BlackBerry. Sighed. And picked it up to call Kevin’s mother.

D
ELIGHTED TO HAVE A FEW HOURS OUT AND ABOUT, EMMA stopped at the nursery first. She gave herself permission to just wander and enjoy before settling down to the business of selection.

She loved the smells—the earth, the plants, the green—so much she had to order herself not to just buy some of everything. But she promised herself she’d take another swing through in the morning and pick up a few more plants for the estate.

For now, she debated on pots while envisioning Jack’s back porch entrance. She found two slim urns in a rusted bronze color she decided would be perfect flanking his kitchen door.

“Nina?” She signaled to the manager. “I’m going to take these two.”

“They’re great, aren’t they?”

“They are. Can you have them loaded in my car? It’s right out front. And the potting soil? I’m just going to pick out the plants.”

“Take your time.”

She found exactly what she wanted, sticking with deep reds and purples with a few sparks of gold to set them off.

“Gorgeous,” Nina commented when Emma pushed her cart through toward the cashier. “Strong colors, great textures. And that heliotrope smells wonderful. Is this for a wedding?”

“No, actually they’re a gift for a friend.”

“Lucky friend. Everything’s loaded.”

“Thanks.”

In town, she wandered the shops, treated herself to new sandals, a breezy skirt, and thinking of the long-ago summer, a boldly printed scarf to use as a beach wrap.

She swung into the bookstore, waved to the clerk ringing up a sale at the counter.

“Hi, Emma! Your mom’s in the back.”

“Thanks.”

She found her mother opening a recent delivery of books. The minute she saw Emma, Lucia set the shipment aside. “Now this is the best kind of surprise.”

“I’ve been out spending money.” Emma leaned over the box to kiss Lucia’s cheek.

“My favorite activity. Almost. Did you buy something that made you so happy, or . . .” She tapped a finger on Emma’s bracelet. “Are you just happy?”

“Both. I’m going to cook dinner for Jack, so I still have to go to the market. But I found the cutest sandals, which—of course—I had to wear out.”

Emma did a pivot, a turn, showing them off.

“They
are
cute.”

“And . . .” Emma flicked her index fingers at her new gold dangles to make them sway.

“Ah, pretty.”

“Plus a wonderful summer skirt just covered with red poppies. A couple of tops, a scarf, and . . . so on.”

“That’s my girl. I saw Jack this morning. I thought he said you were going to the movies tonight.”

“Change of plans. I’m going to make him your flank steak. Mrs. G had one in the freezer so I begged it from her and it’s been marinating all night. It’s out in the car in a cooler. I thought I’d do those roasted fingerling potatoes with rosemary, maybe asparagus, a nice chunk of bread with dipping oil. What do you think?”

“Very manly.”

“Good, that was the idea. I couldn’t bring myself to hit Laurel up for a dessert. She’s swamped. I thought maybe just ice cream and berries.”

“A manly and thoughtful meal. Is this an occasion?”

“Partly to thank him for the incredible night in New York, and the rest . . . I’m going to tell him, Mama. I’m going to tell him how I feel about him, that I love him. It seems almost wrong to have all this”—she pressed a hand to her heart—“and not tell him.”

“Love is brave,” Lucia reminded her. “I know when he says your name, he looks happy. I’m glad you told me. Now I can think good thoughts for you, for both of you, tonight.”

“I’ll take them. Oh, and you have a book for Parker. I told her I’d pick it up for her.”

“I’ll get it for you.” Lucia wrapped an arm around Emma’s waist as she walked her out of the storeroom. “You’ll call me tomorrow? I want to know how your dinner went.”

“I’ll call you, first thing.”

“Emma?”

Emma looked over, smiled at the pretty brunette she desperately tried to place. “Hi.”

“It is you! Oh, hi, Emma!”

Emma found herself gripped in an enthusiastic hug and rocked side to side. Baffled, she gave the girl a friendly squeeze in return as she shot questioning looks at her mother.

“Rachel, you’re home from college.” Lucia beamed as she gave her daughter hints. “It seems like last week Emma was heading out to babysit for you.”

“I know. I can hardly—”

“Rachel? Rachel Monning?” Emma pulled her back, stared into bright blue eyes. “Oh my God.
Look
at you. I didn’t recognize you. You’re grown-up and gorgeous. When did you stop being twelve?”

“A while ago. It’s just been so long, between this and that and college. Oh, Emma, you look awesome. You always did. I can’t believe I ran into you this way. I was actually going to call you.”

“You’re in college now? Home for the summer?”

“Yes. One more year. I’m working at Estervil, in public relations. It’s my day off and I stopped in because I needed a book. A wedding planning book. I’m engaged!”

She held out her hand to show off the sparkle of her diamond.

“Engaged?” Emma pushed through the moment of speechless shock. “But you were playing with your Barbies ten minutes ago.”

“I think it’s closer to ten years.” Rachel’s face lit up with her laugh. “You have to meet Drew. He’s amazing. Of course you’ll meet him. We’re going to get married next summer, after I graduate, and I really want to have you do the flowers, and, well, everything. My mother says Vows is
the
place. Can you believe it? I’m getting married, and you’ll make my bouquet. You used to make those Kleenex bouquets for me, and now, it’ll be real.”

She felt the jab straight in the belly, hated herself for it, but felt it. “I’m so happy for you. When did this happen?”

“Two weeks, three days and . . .” Rachel checked her watch. “Sixteen hours ago. Oh, I wish I had more time, but I have to get the book and run or I’ll be late.” She hugged Emma again. “I’ll call and we’ll talk flowers and cakes and, oh God, everything. Bye! Bye, Mrs. Grant. I’ll see you soon.”

“Rachel Monning’s getting married.”

“Yes.” Lucia patted Emma’s shoulder. “She is.”

“I used to babysit for her. I used to French braid her hair and let her stay up past her bedtime. Now I’m going to do her wedding flowers. Good God, Mama.”

“There there,” Lucia said and didn’t bother to mask a chuckle. “Aren’t you about to spend the evening with a wonderful man?”

“Yes. Right. I get it. Everyone takes different directions. But . . . Good God.”

She managed to put babysitting and weddings aside to finish her shopping. She’d barely stepped out of the market before being hailed again.

“Buenos tardes, bonita!”

“Rico.” Instead of a hug she had both cheeks affectionately kissed. “How are you?”

“Better for seeing you.”

“Why aren’t you flying somewhere fabulous?”

“Just back from a run to Italy. The owner took his family to Tuscany for a little R and R.”

“Ah, the hard life of the private pilot. And how’s Brenna?”

“We broke up a couple of months ago.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I hadn’t heard.”

“The way it goes.” He shrugged. “Let me carry those for you.” He took her grocery bags, peeked in as he walked her to her car. “Looks like good eating, and a lot better than the Hungry Man dinner I have on tap.”

“Oh, poor thing.” She laughed at him then unlocked the passenger side door. “Just in here. I’m already pretty loaded in the back.”

“So I see,” he said as he glanced at the plants and bags in the backseat. “It looks like you’ve got a busy evening planned, but if you want to change your mind, I’ll take you to dinner.” He trailed a flirtatious finger down her arm. “Or better yet, give you that flying lesson we used to talk about.”

“Thanks, Rico, but I’m seeing someone.”

“It ought to be me. Feel free to change your mind about that, too—anytime—and give me a call.”

“If I do you’ll be the first.” She brushed her lips over his cheek before rounding the hood to her door. “Do you remember Jill Burke?”

“Ah . . . little blonde, big laugh.”

“Yes. She’s single again, too.”

“Is that so?”

“You should call her. I bet she’d love a flying lesson.”

His grin flashed adding a sparkle to his eyes and reminding her why she’d enjoyed spending time with him. She got in, and sent him a wave as she drove away.

Considering the planters, plants, groceries, Emma parked in the back of Jack’s building and as close to the steps as she could manage. She angled her head as she studied the little kitchen deck, then nodded. The planters would do very well there, very well indeed.

Eager to get started, she walked around to the front of the building to use the main entrance. The beveled glass in the door and the tall front windows brought in pretty light, adding a sense of style and comfort to the reception area. He’d been right to keep it cozy rather than sleek, she thought. It projected calm and quiet dignity, while she knew in the individual offices and planning rooms chaos often reigned.

“Hi, Michelle.”

“Emma.” The woman working on a computer at a ruthlessly organized desk stopped to shift her chair. “How are you?”

“I’m great. How are you feeling?”

“Twenty-nine weeks and counting.” Michelle patted her baby belly. “We’re perfect. I
love
your sandals.”

“Me, too. I just bought them.”

“They’re great. Monday night date, right?”

“Exactly.”

“You’re a little early, aren’t you?”

“New plan. Is Jack busy? I haven’t actually told him the new plan.”

“He’s not back yet. Running late, glitch on a site. Not very happy with the subs or the new county inspector, or, well, anything just at the moment.”

“Oh.” Emma winced. “Well, my new plan is either very good or very bad under those circumstances.”

“Can you share?”

“Sure. I thought I’d cook dinner, surprise him with that and some planters for his little deck. Dinner and a movie at home, instead of going out.”

“If you want my opinion, it’s inspired. I think he’d be thrilled to have a home-cooked meal after the day he’s put in. You can call and check, but he may be in round three with the building inspector.”

“Why don’t we just let that play out? The problem is, Michelle, I don’t have a key.”

There was a beat, just a quick bump of surprise. “Oh, well, that’s no problem.” Michelle opened a drawer of her desk to fish out a spare set.

“Are you sure it’s okay?” And how mortifying is it, Emma thought, to have to ask?