Bride Quartet Collection (81 page)

“Oh, I’m not going to—”

“What it’s missing,” Parker interrupted, “is a narrator. An emcee if you will. Someone who’s been there from the beginning. Not your parents, as it’s a surprise for them, too, and Mac added their wedding photo to kick the whole thing off. I thought Carter, as he’s a teacher as well as her brother, so he’s used to speaking in public, but when Sherry and I talked, I realized no. It’s a sister thing. A big sister thing. After all, who has a more unique, clever, intimate perspective on Sherry, on your family, on Nick and his, than you? Please say you’ll do it.”

Again, Parker reached out a hand, making that contact, making it personal.

“I know it’s a lot to ask, and it’s such short notice, but it’s all just coming together.We really need you.”

“You want me to . . . to narrate pictures?”

“Not just want, but need. And not just pictures. It’s a journey, Diane. Sherry and Nick’s, yes, but also all of you. Family’s so essential to both of them. I’ve gotten to know them and understand that over these past months. It’s going to be the highlight of the evening. Carter’s drafted out the script, and he’s hoping you’ll say yes and work with him on refining it.”

“Carter wants me to—” She broke off, obviously stunned.

“Oh, I know you’re incredibly busy already, and it’s a lot to ask. But I’ll help as much as I can, as much as you want or need. Frankly, I don’t think you’ll need any help.Anyone who can manage a family the way you do can, in my opinion, manage anything.”

“I might be able to do it, but I’d have to see the CD and whatever Carter’s written before I could commit.”

Parker whisked a file off the table.“I happen to have a copy of both right here.The CD runs just about twelve minutes. Have you got time to watch it now?”

“I . . .I guess.”

“Perfect. I’ll just get my laptop.”

Twenty-six minutes later, Parker wheeled the tea trolley back in the kitchen.

“I see by the canary feathers stuck to your lip that you pulled it off.” Mrs. Grady set the basket of cherry tomatoes just harvested from her kitchen garden on the counter.

“I troweled it on pretty thick, then I shoveled on more. She’ll not only attend the rehearsal and the rehearsal dinner, but she’ll emcee Mac and Carter’s CD. And bless Carter for being willing to step out as emcee, especially since it was as much his idea as Mac’s.”

“He’s a good boy. And his older sister’s always been a pain in the rear.”

“Well, she’s attractive, but she lacks Sherry’s vivacity and easy confidence. She’s smart, but not as innately bright as Carter, and not anywhere near as sweet. She’s the firstborn but not, I think, often first otherwise. And it irks. All I had to do was make it as much about her as Sherry.” Parker shrugged. “And tell her a few truths. Her family loves her. She’s important to them. Some people just have to hear it, a lot.”

“I bet it didn’t hurt it came from you.‘Parker Brown needs my help.’”

Parker shrugged again. “Whatever works.The bride gets what she wants and deserves.” She glanced at her watch. “And I’m on schedule.”

She pitched in on decor for the event, checked on Laurel’s progress, spoke with the caterers on their arrival, the parking attendants at theirs.

She stepped out on the terrace for a last check as Mac took shots of the setup, and thought, Champagne Elegance all around.

Not her particular taste for a wedding shower—and since she had three in planning stages for her friends, she had plenty of ideas—but the scene had an appealingly stylish Deco feel, with just enough lush from Emma’s stunning arrangements to soften it.

“Totally Gatsby,” Mac said as she lowered her camera.

“I was just thinking that. I’d say the hostess, and the bride, will be very pleased.”

“You’ve already scored today. Carter sent me a text. His sister wants to meet him after his classes today and talk about the script for the rehearsal dinner. Nice job.”

“I think she’ll do one, too. I really do. She was excited about the whole thing when she left.”

“Diane? Excited? Did you spike her tea?”

“In a manner of speaking, but it was the CD itself that did it. She got misty a few times.”

Mac’s eyebrows winged up. “I underestimate my own power. Everything a go inside?”

“Emma was just finishing the public areas, and Laurel’s done and with the caterer. I’m about to . . .” She laid a finger on her headset. “Be right there. Our hostess just arrived,” she told Mac. “I’ll go meet her, bring her through.”

“I’ll go around, get some unobtrusive shots of arrivals.”

With a nod, Parker started inside. “Em, Laurel,” she said into her headset, “we’re green.”

Within the hour, Parker watched women in stylish white suits, floaty white dresses, sharply tailored white pants mingle on the terrace. They sipped champagne, chatted, laughed, nibbled on pretty passed hors d’oeuvres.

Mac moved among them, capturing moments. The burst of delight as the bride-to-be threw back her head and laughed, the affectionate hug of greeting between friends, the sweetness of a granddaughter tapping flutes with her grandmother.

It pleased her, as it always did, to see happiness here, to feel it sparkling in the air like champagne, to know what had come to her could be a setting for joy.

Today it pleased her to be in the company of women, and to have played a part in creating this individualized vision of the female ritual.

At the appointed time, she moved forward to ask the guests to be seated for lunch, then again retreated to the background.Then braced when the hostess made her way over, her face set in harassed lines.

“Olivia asked about games. She wants shower games.”

Which you expressly vetoed, Parker remembered, but smiled. “I can take care of that.”

“She asked about games
and
prizes. Obviously I haven’t prepared for—”

“It’s not a problem. I’ll see to it during lunch. How about three? I find that’s just enough. Fun and simple games with pretty prizes for the winners.”

“I don’t want to hand out anything tacky or foolish. I’d want something in keeping with the ambiance.”

And gee, Parker thought, I was going to get the glow-in-the-dark dildos. “Absolutely. Leave it to me. We’ll have it all arranged for after lunch. Please, go enjoy yourself. Don’t worry about a thing.”

She waited until she’d slipped inside. “Laurel, I need you to take over outside,” she said into her headset. “The BTB wants games and prizes. I need fifteen minutes to set it up.”

“Got it.”

“Emma, I need a small prize table set up.”

“Oh, for God’s sake—”

“I know, I know. Whatever you can do. You’ve got forty minutes.”

She charged up the back steps, all the way to the gift room, a space designed for gift wrapping, present storage. Inside one of the cabinets she had labeled, prewrapped gifts. She scanned, debated, and after choosing three, slipped them into white embossed gift bags, tucked in black tissue. From another cabinet she grabbed a stack of notepads, pencils, pulled other supplies.

She dashed back down, set the bags and the box of supplies on the dining room table, then zipped through the kitchen and into the old butler’s pantry to choose the proper tray for the display.

“What are you after?” Mrs. Grady asked from behind her.

“The BTB wants games, which the hostess vetoed during the planning stages. I don’t think white bags on a white tray, and we don’t have an appropriate black one. I think silver. Or glass. Maybe glass.”

“Try both.”

“Good idea. Can you come, give me an opinion?”

Mrs. Grady walked along with her. “Oh, your car’s back.”

“Back where?”

“Here.”

Parker stopped, frowned. “My car’s here?”

“Delivered about twenty minutes ago.Washed and waxed, too. I put the bill up on your desk.”

“Oh. But I didn’t ask him to deliver it. I was going to—”

“Saves you time, doesn’t it?” Which, in Mrs. Grady’s opinion, made Malcolm Kavanaugh a very shrewd customer.

Parker said nothing, only continued to frown as she arranged the bags on the silver tray.“I think the glass one’s better.The silver makes too much of a statement, and Emma could sprinkle some white rose petals on the glass, and with the little black vases . . . Who delivered the car?”

Mrs. Grady smothered a smile. “Didn’t catch his name. Well, theirs, as the one had another following him in a tow truck.”

“Oh. Um . . . The glass?”

“I’d say. It’s classy, but more subtle than the silver.”

“Yes, that’s what I’m after.” She stepped back. “I’ll leave this here, go see if I can help Emma set up the table.”

She started out. “Really, I could’ve picked up the car.”

“No doubt.What do you say when someone does you a favor?”

Parker heaved out a breath at the implied
tsk
in the tone.“You say thank you. I will.When I get a chance.”

She didn’t have one, or so she told herself.The event required her focus, and with the additional time for the unscheduled games ran about thirty minutes over.Which cut back on the time to prep for the evening’s rehearsal.

“The games were a hit,” Mac commented.

“They generally are.”

“Nice prizes. I really liked the travel jewelry caddy, the green leather? Somebody who’s going to Tuscany for her honeymoon could really use one of them.”

“Maybe somebody’ll get lucky.” Parker chugged from a bottle of water. “We seriously pulled that off. And our hostess didn’t bat an eye at the additional invoice for the prizes, especially since I gave her the extra half hour on the house.”

She took a last scan of the terrace.They’d broken down all the tables, but had left the pergola and urns dressed.They had only to set up the refreshment table, and they were good to go.

She probably had five minutes now to call in her thanks, but really, she had to check the invoice first. For all she knew he’d gouged her on a delivery charge.

“I’m just going to—” Her phone rang. “God. Crazy Bride.”

“Better you than me. Go ahead.We’ve got this.”

Crazy Bride ate up her time. And gave her space to think.

S
HE’D SEND A THANK-YOU
NOTE
WITH THE CHECK FOR THE SERVICE and tires.That was, Parker decided as she ran the rehearsal, appropriate.

“With five minutes to go,” she said, “the groom’s brother—and best man—will escort their mother to her seat, with her husband following.That’s perfect.The best man will join the groom, standing to the groom’s left. And at three minutes to go, the bride’s brother will escort their mom to her seat. Brother moves up to the left of best man, right of George. Angle just a little, Sam. Exactly. Music change for the bridal procession.Wendy, Nikki,Addy—and I’ll be there to cue you tomorrow. Remember to smile, ladies. Then Jaci, the maid of honor.

“Good.When she’s halfway down, it’s time for the ring bearer. That’s the way, Kevin!”

The five-year-old strutted down to laughter and applause.

“And the flower girl. Really good, Jenny, and tomorrow there’ll be real flowers in your basket. Kevin on the boys’ side, Jenny on the girls’.You stand right there with your daddy, Kevin.Then . . .”

She trailed off, blank as she looked back and saw Malcolm leaning on one of the urns, a bouquet in his hand. She couldn’t see his eyes, not with the sun slanting off the dark glasses he wore. But she could see his grin clearly enough.

“Then?” the groom prompted with a laugh. “Do I get married?”

“Almost. Music change, everyone stands. And the bride begins her walk escorted by her father.And,” she said to the groom,“she’s the most beautiful woman in the world. She’s everything you’ve ever wanted. And she’s about to be yours.”

She waited. “Stop here. And as you requested, your mom will step over with you and your dad.The minister will ask who gives this woman, and your line, Mr. Falconi?”

“Her mother and I.”

They kissed their daughter, then took her hand and placed it in the groom’s.

“Lovely. Now . . .”

She ran them through the ceremony, hitting the highlights, outlining the timing and choreography.

“He’ll say you may kiss your bride.”

“I got that part.” The groom spun his bride, dipped her while she laughed, and bent to give her a lavish kiss.

“Cecily, if you get cold feet tomorrow, I’m happy to stand in for you.”

The bride laughed again, twinkling at Parker.“My feet are really, really warm, but thanks.”

“I bet. At that point, you’ll face your friends and family, the minister will introduce you for the first time as husband and wife, and those of us not still swooning over that kiss will applaud. Music changes to recessional, and you’ll walk down the aisle. Mac will take you from there. From here, the rest of the wedding party recesses in reverse order. Flower girl and ring bearer first.”

Good, she thought, very good. If everyone smiled and beamed like this tomorrow, they’d hardly need the sun.

“After the wedding party, the parents and grandparents of the bride, then the groom’s. Mac will also need all of you for wedding pictures.The guests will be escorted inside the Solarium for canapes and drinks to keep them happy during the photo session.”

She ignored the itch at the back of her neck. She
knew
he was staring at her, as she outlined the timing and procedure for introductions, dinner, toasts, the shift to the Ballroom, first dances, cake cutting, and so on.

“The Bride’s and Groom’s suites will be available to the wedding party from four until the end of the evening. We’ll transfer the gifts from the gift table to the newlyweds’ limo, as well as any flowers they want to take with them or give to others. I know it’s a lot, but my partners and I will be here for all of you every step of the way. All you really have to do is enjoy and celebrate.”

CHAPTER FIVE

S
HE RAN THE SHOW LIKE A VELVET-VOICED GENERAL, MALCOLM thought, striding around in her mile-high heels and severe black suit. A lot of smiles, though, he noted, and buckets of warmth.

Except when she looked in his direction.

He waited her out, smothered in the scent of roses that made the bouquet he carried seem a bit puny. Still, he’d wrangled it from the nose-ringed Goth girl who worked with Emma, so he’d kept it all in the family.

Emma breezed by him. “Mine?”

“Not anymore.”

“Still very pretty. Parker’s going to be a few more minutes.”

“I’ve got time.”

“Grab a drink if you want. There’s plenty. Or you can wait inside.”

“I’m good, but thanks.”

“I’ve got to go. If you were over at my place, you saw we’re neck deep.”

“Wedding tomorrow?”

“No, actually, they had a conflict, so they rehearsed for their Friday wedding tonight. I’ve got an outside event tomorrow, and Parker’s got a couple tours, plus we’ve got another full-staff consult. And a four-event weekend.”

“Busy girls. I’m fine here. Go ahead.”

“She won’t be long,” Emma assured him and hurried away.

When he waited another fifteen minutes, he figured she took her time. But she came out again, with that ground-eating stride she managed to make look both unhurried and graceful.

“I’m sorry to keep you waiting,” she began. “If I’d known you’d planned to come by, I’d have told you we had a rehearsal.”

“I didn’t come to see you.”

She opened her mouth, closed it again.

“I came by to see Mrs. Grady.” He gestured with the flowers. “To thank her again for dinner and the ham sandwich I had for lunch today.”

“Oh, well, she’s not here.”

“I got that.”

“She went out with friends. Dinner and a movie.You brought her flowers.”

“Coals to the place that has all the coals.”

“She’ll love them, and she’ll be sorry she missed you. I’ll put them in water for her.”

“Okay.”

But when she reached for them he turned and started to the house. He glanced back. “Coming?”

“I don’t want to hold you up any more than I already have,” she said as she walked with him.

“I’ve got nothing booked.You?”

“Actually, I was going to call you,” she said, evading the question, “to thank you for having my car sent out.You didn’t have to go to the trouble, but I appreciate it.”

“We’re both full of thank-yous.”

“Apparently.” She led the way in, through the kitchen and back into the butler’s pantry.

He stopped, looked around. “Wow. This place just keeps on keeping on.”

“My family’s always liked to entertain, and often in a way that takes a lot of space.” She chose a vase from a cabinet.“Del may be home if you want company.”

“You know, it feels like you’re trying to shake me off.”

“Does it?” She added flower food and water to the vase.“That would be rude.”

“And you wouldn’t be.”

“Oh, I can be, depending on the circumstances.” She waited a beat.“But doing me a favor, two actually, and bringing one of my favorite people flowers aren’t meriting circumstances.”

“I can’t say I thought of kissing you as doing you a favor.”

He felt the temperature drop twenty degrees.

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I bet that usually works. The freeze,” he added. “But me? I don’t mind the cold.”

“I’m sure that’s handy for you, and I also think you’ve gotten the wrong impression.”

When she turned, he shifted, and boxed her in.“No, I haven’t.”

Her eyes flashed, blue lightning cased in ice.“I don’t like being maneuvered.”

“No, you like doing the maneuvering, and you’re damn good at it. I admire that.When I was doing gags—”

“Gags?”

“Stunts. Stunt work. Anyway, back then I liked to watch the horse wranglers if I had a chance.You’ve got the same kind of skill with people. It’s impressive.”

“I’d say thank you, but we seem to have passed that phrase around plenty already.”

“Don’t mention it.” He eased back. “I like your house. Who wouldn’t, but I mean I like how it works. I like seeing and figuring out how things work.”

“How the house works?”

“House, home, business. Canvas.”

She paused at that, a flower in her hand, and just stared at him.

“You let people paint the picture they want on it.You guide a lot of the strokes, maybe influence them toward certain colors, but they get what they want at the end of it. It’s good work.”

“Th—” The phone saved her from another thank-you. “Excuse me. Hello, Bonnie, what can I do for you?” She wandered a few paces away.

Malcolm heard the hysteria through the phone even before Parker yanked it an inch from her ear. “I see.Yes, I . . .”

He listened—why the hell not—and began to stick flowers in the vase himself.

“Of course I understand. But I also think you’re very stressed just now, again understandably. I bet Richie is, too. Well, Bonnie, your mother isn’t marrying Richie, and though I know she loves him, she doesn’t know him the way you do. I think, if Richie thought of it as anything other than a silly, blowing-off-steam male tradition, he’d never have told you. But he did, and the way he did tells me he thinks of it as a joke. His brother’s just doing what brothers often do.”

She closed her eyes a moment, listened as she thumbed out a Tums. “Yes, I do understand, but you’re not marrying Richie’s brother. I’m sure none of you, really, want something as unimportant as this to cause any sort of a family rift.”

She listened again. “Yes. Mmm-hmm. Does Richie love you? Mmm-hmm. Has he given you any reason to doubt that, any reason not to trust him? What I think isn’t important. It’s what you think, and what you feel. But since you asked, I think I’d laugh it off, and I’d go have a wonderful time with my friends before I spent the next week getting ready to marry the man I’m just crazy about.”

While she wound it up, he finished the arrangement, then stepped back, hands tucked in his back pockets to study the result.

“That’s nicely done,” Parker commented.

“It’s not bad. So . . . problem?”

“Nothing major.”

“The groom’s brother’s hired a stripper for the bachelor party. She projected,” Malcolm added, “really well.”

“I guess she did.Yes, and the bride hit flashpoint, aided by the fury and dire warnings of her mother—who really doesn’t think anyone’s good enough for her baby girl, and will, I predict, always find fault with Richie.”

“She wanted you to back her up.”

“Naturally.”

“And you soothed and smoothed while managing to turn it back on her. Nice wrangling,Tex.”

“If you’re mature enough to marry, you ought to be mature enough to stop crying to Mommy every time something upsets you. And if she doesn’t trust her perfectly affable, devoted, and honest-to-a-fault fiancé not to jump on a stripper a week before the wedding, she shouldn’t marry him.”

“That’s not what you said to her.”

“Because she’s the client.” She caught herself.“And I shouldn’t be saying it to you.”

“Hey, what’s said in the—What is this room?”

“Butler’s pantry.”

“No shit?” He let out a half laugh as he scanned the space again. “Okay, what’s said in the butler’s pantry stays in the butler’s pantry.” That got a smile out of her, a faint one. “You calmed her down.”

“For now anyway. They’re moving to Atlanta—he’s been transferred—in a couple months.The mother is supremely pissed over that, and it’s the very best thing that could happen. They’ve got a good chance, I think, if she gets out from under Mommy’s thumb.”

“It tensed you up.”

She shrugged and picked up the vase. “I’ll get over it.”

“I gotta ask you something.”

She glanced back at him as they walked out. “What?”

“Do you own a pair of jeans?”

“Of course I own a pair of jeans.”

“How about a leather jacket, with or without designer label.”

“Your interest in my wardrobe is very strange.” She set the vase on the counter, then handed Malcolm a notepad and pen. “You should write her a little note, so she’ll see it with the flowers when she gets home.”

“Okay, while I’m doing that, go put on the jeans and jacket.”

“Excuse me?”

“I love the way you say that.You’ll enjoy the ride more out of that suit.”

“I like this suit, and I’m not going for a ride.”

“I like how you look in the suit, but you’ll be more comfortable on the bike in jeans.” He tucked a thumb in his front pocket, leaned a hip against the counter. “It’s a nice night. Neither of us have anything booked. So, we’ll take a ride, clear your head. I’ll buy you dinner.”

“I’m not getting back on that motorcycle.”

“You’re not afraid of the bike, or of having dinner with me.”

“It’s not a matter of fear but preference.”

He smiled. “Prove it. Here’s the deal. You take the ride, have dinner—casual, public place—I bring you home. If you don’t have fun, or at least enjoy the change of pace, I back off. All the way.”

This time the look was regal, and just a little amused. “I don’t need to negotiate to get you to back off, Malcolm.”

“You’re right about that.” He waited a beat while their eyes stayed locked. “So why haven’t you backed me off ?”

Good question, she thought. She might as well figure out the answer. “A ride, a casual meal.That’s it.”

“That’s the deal.”

“I’ll go change.”

She did something for him, Malcolm thought as he scrawled
You still owe me a dance
on the notepad. He wasn’t altogether sure what it was she did, but it was something.

He wanted his hands on her, no question, but Parker Brown wasn’t the jump in, roll around, then roll off type. Added to that, he valued his friendship with her brother.

He walked out of the kitchen, wandered the first floor.

If he considered Parker an easy bang, and acted on it, he’d fully expect Del to kick his ass, or try to. Reverse positions, he’d do exactly the same. And that was one of the reasons he valued the friendship.

He poked into what he figured they called—due to the big-ass piano—the music room. The misty watercolors shimmering on the walls were undoubtedly originals, and nice enough. But the collection of instruments in a fancy glass case caught his interest.

Guitar, violin, various flutes—maybe a piccolo—a concertina, a drum, harmonica, what he thought was a dulcimer, a cowbell, bongos, and a few things he couldn’t readily identify.

If it hadn’t been locked, he doubted he’d have resisted the urge to open the cabinet and try out a couple of instruments, just to see how they sounded, to see how they worked.

And, he supposed, that was why he didn’t consider Parker a casual bang. He had this urge to open her up, see how she worked.

Rich girl—wealthy woman, he corrected—with exceptional looks, the pedigree, the connections, the smarts. And she worked as hard, maybe harder, than anyone he knew. She could’ve coasted on her very fine ass, jetting off for drinks in Majorca, sailed the Aegean to sun those amazing legs, sipped wine in a Parisian cafe between shopping sprees.

Instead, she’d founded a business with childhood pals that kept her running around at other people’s beck.

He wandered to the piano, improvised a few chords.

Not for the money, he decided. He didn’t get the greed vibe from her. Money would be a result, a practicality of business, but not the essential ingredient. He knew what it was like when money was the essential.

Satisfaction played a role, but there had to be more.

He wanted to figure it out.

He sensed her—a little heat along the skin—and looked up to see her in the doorway.

And oh yeah, he wanted his hands on her.

She wore jeans as well as she wore her woman-in-charge suits. Her boots had short, skinny heels. She wore a bright red shirt under a thin leather jacket the color, like the boots, of dark chocolate. Silver hoops glinted on her ears.

Classy Biker Babe? he wondered.

No. Just classy.

“You play?”

“Me?” He shrugged.“No. I just mess around.That’s some collection.”

“Yes. My father’s mostly. He had absolutely no musical talent, and so admired those who did.”

“Del plays a mean piano, especially after a couple beers. How about you?”

“Piano, violin—with or without beer.The dulcimer.”

“I thought that’s what that was.What’s this one?”

She walked to the case as he tapped the glass toward a small, key-shaped instrument.

“A trump or jaw harp.You hold it against the teeth, or the lips, and pluck. Simple, effective, and very old.”

“Is that a piccolo?”

“No, that’s a soprano flute. That’s a piccolo. I can get the key for the case.”

“No, that’s okay.” He wondered, idly, where people came up with names like piccolo or saxophone. “I just like knowing what I’m looking at. Plus, if you opened it, I’d just want to play with everything and we wouldn’t get to that ride.”

He shifted so instead of shoulder-to-shoulder they stood face-to-face. “Maybe by the end of it, I’ll figure out what I’m looking at.”

She stepped back. “It’s not that complicated.”