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She told herself to consider the source, reminded herself that Linda loved creating upheaval and was particularly skilled at creating it when thwarted.
It didn’t help.
She sat and brooded until Emma came out with a pretty tray of iced tea and cookies.
“I raided your supply,” Emma said. “Cookies are called for.” She passed Laurel the bottle of aspirin. “Take two, then spill it.”
“I had a really good consult. Sherry and Nick.”
“They’re so cute together.”
“And so damn happy. They really put me in a terrific mood. I was actually walking down to your place, to see if you wanted to take a swim and tap into the champagne I’d opened for the consult when I saw Linda about to walk into Mac’s.”
“There goes the terrific mood—and my champagne.”
“Yeah. She started off the way she usually does. Big smile, all innocence.Just popping in since she’d come in to see some friends.” Laurel picked up a cookie, nibbling a little as she continued the story.
“You told her you’d knock her on her ass?” Emma interrupted, with relish. “Oh, I wish I’d been there. I really do. What did she say?”
“Basically, that I had no say around here, how I’m here on Parker’s sufferance—”
“What bullshit.”
“She jabbed me about my parents. I’m hard and cold like my mother, and that’s why my cheating father slept with her—among others.”
“Oh, honey.”
“I always figured he’d probably had a spin with Linda—basically every cheating husband in the county has—but ...”
“It hurts,” Emma murmured.
“I don’t know. I don’t know if it hurts. I think it just pisses me off, and disappoints me. Which is stupid, considering.”
“But it’s Linda.”
“Yeah.” There was nothing more precious than a friend who understood exactly. “I shrugged it off. No way was she going to get a rise out of me on that score. So, I had to give it back to her, and told her to get gone again, or I’d make her.”
“Good for you.”
“Then she hit me with Del.”
“What do you mean?”
“How everyone’s talking about me and Del, how they’re laughing at me, how he’d never be serious about someone like me. I’m not in his class—the Brown class.”
“Vicious bitch.” Emma’s hand fisted. “I’d like to punch her. You are not going to tell me you bought one word of that, or I’ll have to punch
you.”
“Now I’m terrified.” Laurel sighed again. “It’s not a matter of buying it, Emma. I know the kind of person she is, and it’s just how she thinks. And I know even if she didn’t think it, she’d say it to slap at me. But the fact is ... The fact is, he’s Delaney Brown, so people are talking, and speculating, and some of them probably are getting a laugh out of it.”
“So what if they are?”
“I know, and I tell myself the same.” She hated,
hated that the tears burned again, and this time filled, this time spilled. “Most of the time I feel just that way. So what? But other times ...”
“It’s insulting to Del as much as you.”
“Maybe. We’ve never really talked about if we’re serious, or if we’re looking to make what we have long-term. It’s really just about the moment. Most of the time I’m good with that, fine with it, because the moments are really good. But other times ...”
“Do you think he’s with you just because you’re available?”
“No.” She brushed impatiently at the tears. “No, of course I don’t.”
“Do you think it’s just about the sex for him?”
“No.”
“Or that he’s given a single thought to the fact that your last name doesn’t have the same cachet as his?”
Laurel shook her head. “Emma, I know when I’m being stupid, but even knowing it doesn’t always stop someone from being stupid. I wish I didn’t have this vulnerable spot, and God knows I wish I hadn’t let Linda poke her sharp stick right into it. But it’s there.”
“We’ve all got them.” Emma covered Laurel’s hand with hers. “Especially when we love somebody. That’s why we need girlfriends.”
“She made me cry. How weak is that? I would’ve gone up to my room and blubbered over it if you hadn’t stopped me. When I think of how frustrated I’d get with Mac when she’d let Linda push her around emotionally.” She blew out a breath.
“The woman’s poison.”
“Damn right, she is. Well, at least I kicked her off the estate.”
“It’s my turn next time.You, Parker, and Mac have all had yours. I want a shot.”
“Only fair. Thanks, Emma.”
“Feeling better?”
“Yeah, I feel better.”
“Let’s go take that swim.”
“Okay.” Laurel nodded briskly. “Okay, let’s go drown my pity party.”
LATER, STEADIER, SHE SETTLED DOWN IN HER OFFICE. HER PAPERWORK could use some attention, she decided, and since she had some time on her hands, it might as well get it.
She took care of her filing, invoicing, bills, with Bon Jovi for company. Then shifted over to check out some of her suppliers’ websites.
She needed more pastry bags, cake boxes, pastry boxes, maybe some new transfer sheets. Liners, she thought, and paper doilies. After dealing with the necessities, she started to study tools and display items she really didn’t need—but might be fun to play with.
Icing at Vows’ budget could handle a few toys, she decided. Plus she could use some new crimpers, some new chocolate molds, and God, she really wanted that double guitar cutter.
Her practical side made her sit back, stew over the price. But when they finished with her new storage area, she’d have room for the bigger cutter. It would be practical, really. She’d be able to cut twice as many petit fours, chocolates, ganaches as she could now. And it had four frames.
She could put the one she had now, the one she’d bought used, on eBay.
Hell with it. She deserved it. But even as she clicked Add To Cart, she jumped in guilt when Mac said her name.
“God, don’t sneak up on me when I’m spending money I really don’t need to spend.”
“On what? Oh.” Mac shrugged when she saw the bakery supply site. “Tools, we all need them. Listen, Laurel ...”
“Emma told you.” Laurel heaved out a breath. “You’d better not be here to apologize for Linda.”
“I’m allowed to be sorry.” Mac stuffed her hands in her pockets. “My first reaction was to call her and ream her, but that only gives her attention. Which is what she wants most next to money. So I’m going to ignore it, and that way she gets nothing. Which will piss her off. A lot.”
“Good.”
“Yeah, but since I’m going to ignore it, I have to be sorry—and you have to let me.”
“Okay, be sorry.” Deliberately Laurel looked at her watch, counted to ten. “Now, be finished being sorry.”
“All right.You know what I wish? I wish I didn’t have to invite her to the wedding. But I do.”
“We’ll handle it.”
“I know. Maybe a miracle will happen and she’ll behave herself. I know,” Mac added with a half laugh when Laurel cast her eyes to the ceiling. “But as a bride I’m allowed the fantasy.”
“She’ll never understand you, or us. That’s her loss.”
“It really is.” Leaning down, Mac kissed the top of Laurel’s head. “I’ll see you later.”
Whatever crumbs of self-pity remained were swept away as Mac left.
All done with it, Laurel thought, and bought herself a brand-new double guitar cutter.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
LAUREL WASN’T SURE WHERE THE IMPULSE CAME FROM, BUT SHE followed it to Del’s law offices. Though she rarely visited there, for personal or legal reasons, she knew the setup.
The front door of the dignified old town house opened, as she deemed it
should, to a dignified foyer. That angled into a pretty reception area, with leafy plants in copper pots, antique tables, generous chairs, muted colors warm with the flow of light.
Offices maintained privacy for clients behind thick old doors, lovingly restored, and time-faded rugs highlighted the deep tones of the wide-planked floors.
Del, she knew, appreciated the mix of the dignified and the warmly casual.
She stepped out of the sweltering heat into the cool where Annie, a woman she’d gone to school with, manned the desk and its computer.
Annie shifted, and her professional smile spread to a friendly grin. “Laurel, hi! How are you? Haven’t seen you in months.”
“They keep me chained to the oven. Hey, you cut your hair. I love it.”
