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Here we go, Malcolm thought and kept walking. “Hey.”
“Hey?” Del goggled at him. “That’s all you have to say?”
“Nice gym. I slept with your sister, and you can take a swing at me like you did at Jack over Emma, but it’s not going to change it. It’s not going to stop me from sleeping with her again.”
“For fuck’s sake, Mal.”
“I gave you fair warning, and I didn’t push her. And I can tell you that part wasn’t easy. She’s the most amazing woman I’ve ever met, and that’s on every level I can come up with. If you’ve got a problem with it, Del, I’m going to be sorry, but that’s not going to change anything either.”
“Just what the hell are your intentions?”
“Jesus.” Malcolm dragged a hand through his hair. “That’s a serious question? My intentions are to be with her as often as I can, in bed and out. She’s beautiful and she’s smart and she’s funny even when she doesn’t mean to be. And goddamn it, she’s got me by the throat.”
Del took a minute to pace back and forth. “If you screw this up, if you make her unhappy, I’ll do more than take a swing at you.”
“If I screw this up, you won’t have to take a swing at me. Parker would already have flattened me.”
He left Del muttering to himself and hit the shower.
He’d just finished dressing when Parker came in.
“Should I apologize for my brother?”
“No. If I had a sister I’d probably punch first, discuss later. It’s cool.”
“Our relationship’s more complicated than most siblings’. When our parents died, he . . . Del feels he has to look out for me—for all of us, but especially me.”
“I get it, Parker. I can’t blame him. More, it’s part of who he is, and who he is is a friend of mine. He give you some grief?”
She smiled now. “In his Del way, and I gave him back some in my way.We’re fine. He’s your friend, too, Malcolm.”
“That’s right, so I think we’ll just get this one thing out there now, before we go wherever we’re going. I don’t care about the money.”
Her eyes chilled. He thought no one did cold disdain quite like Parker Brown. “I never thought you did, nor did Del.”
“The thought’s going to jingle eventually, so let’s just head it off. You’ve got a hell of a place here, and I don’t just mean the house.Your place, Parker, around here. I’ve got to respect the time, the effort, the smarts that earned you, the Browns, that place. But I make my own, and that’s how I like it. I take care of myself and my mother because that’s my place. I don’t see money or status or what’s it—pedigree—when I look at you. I just see you, and you need to know that.”
As she had the night before, she walked over to the terrace doors, opened them to the air.Then turned to him.“Do you think I’m slumming?”
He considered her a moment. Not just angry, but a little hurt. As he’d been with Del, he was sorry for it, but it didn’t change anything. “No. That’s beneath you. I’m clear on that. I want to make sure we’re all clear, on both sides.”
“Apparently we are.”
“You’re a little pissed.” He moved to her. “You’ll get over it. Want to catch a movie tonight? They’re doing a Hitchcock deal. I think it’s Notorious tonight.”
“I really don’t know if—”
“Well, I’ll call you, see what’s up.”
“You’re welcome to coffee and breakfast in the kitchen,” she told him, absolutely, perfectly civil.
“Sounds good, but I’ve got to book.” He grabbed her, just grabbed her and gave her a quick reminder of what they had between them. “See you later,” he said as he headed for the door.
He glanced back to where she stood in the center of the open doors, the sky and trees at her back. “Lay off the Tums, Legs.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
THIS ONE WAS PERSONAL. SHERRY MAGUIRE WAS A FRIEND, AND SHE was Carter’s sister—that made her family.Adding to the impact and intimacy of the connection, Carter’s subbing for Nick during the previous January’s wedding planning meeting had brought him and Mac together.
This wedding, Parker determined, would not only go off without a hitch (one that showed, anyway), but would be one for the books.Vows would give Sherry and Nick the day, and the memories, of a lifetime.
And in a very real sense, Parker saw it as a prelude to Mac’s wedding in December.
Many of the same people would attend, she thought as she did a full sweep of the event areas. Her goal was to give the clients, friends, family, perfection, while whetting the appetite for the wedding of her childhood friend and partner.
It wasn’t the first time one or all of them had been guests as well as providers, and they had plenty of tricks up their sleeves to carry it off.
She noted Emma had mastered the quick change from business suit for the afternoon event and worked with her team to clear the formal roses and lily arrangements, the swags of white and burnt gold, the marble stands and urns. Emma wore running shoes, many-pocketed jeans, and a sweatshirt.
And would change yet again, Parker thought, in the family wing for the event.
Already the ambiance Sherry wanted came to life with the wide, cheerful faces of candy pink gerbera daisies, the saucer-size blooms of zinnias in bold, happy colors, the soft, almost sheer pinks of baby roses. Flowers crowded huge white baskets, spilled and tumbled out of enormous bowls in fanciful and fun groupings.
Nothing formal or studied, not for Sherry, Parker noted.
She lent a hand, carrying arrangements to the Bride’s Suite, setting them as directed among the candles already in place. She took the main staircase down, delighted with the twining of pretty lace with a bright rainbow of more baby roses.
It was exactly Sherry, she thought—sweet, fun, and happy.
From there she dashed outside to where Jack and Carter helped Tink transform the pergola into a frame of cheerful flowers. Her nerves jingled at the sight of Carter on the ladder. The man wasn’t known for his grace.
“It’s going to be just beautiful. Carter, maybe you could come down and give me a hand.”
“Nearly got this.”
She held her breath, tried not to think of broken arms and ankles as Carter leaned out to twine a swag. He nearly missed a step on the way down, but managed to do no more than bang his elbow.
“It’s looking pretty good, don’t you think?” he asked Parker.
“It’s looking great and just like Sherry.”
“I’m nervous.” He took
off the glasses he’d put on for the close-up work, stuck them in a pocket.“I didn’t think I would be. The rehearsal last night went so well, was so easy and fun. Big thanks again for getting Di involved. She actually enjoyed herself.”
“Part of the job.”
“I have to keep busy.” His hands went in and out of his pockets. “If I don’t, I remember my baby sister’s getting married.”
“Well, I can do you a favor. I’m swamped, and if you could take this checklist in, go over it with the caterer, it would free me up and help with your nerves.”
And mine, she thought, as he wouldn’t have to climb any more ladders.
“I can do that. Have you seen Mac?”
“She’s helping with the changeover in the Solarium, but I’m going to have to break her away soon.”
Before that, she added her hands to the ones adding nosegays to the white-covered chairs. They were lucky with the weather, she thought, so Sherry could have her outdoor wedding. When the sun went down, it would cool off considerably, but the outdoor heaters would keep the guests comfortable enough if they wandered onto the terraces.
And the trees, she thought with one last look, were as bright and colorful as Emma’s flowers. After a glance at her watch, she hurried inside to check Laurel’s progress. And, she thought, to grab a couple quick slugs of coffee.
The bride and her party were due in fifteen.
“Please tell me you’ve got fresh coffee, and that you’re nearly . . . Oh, Malcolm.”
“Hey, Legs.” He paused from plating some of Laurel’s gorgeous cookies to give Parker a once-over. “New look for you. Cute.”
She wore a full white apron over the blue dress she’d chosen for the wedding. She wouldn’t have time to change later. She had shed her heels for Uggs.
Far, she thought, from her best presentation, however efficient. He, on the other hand, wore a dark suit, a snowy white shirt, and a tie in subtle stripes.
“You, too.” She’d never seen him in a suit, she realized.They’d been together nearly every night through the week, slept together, and she hadn’t been entirely sure he even owned a suit.
“I put him to work.” Laurel stood on a step stool, putting finishing touches on the five-tiered cake. “Del deserted me. Nice presentation,” she added to Malcolm. “I may keep you.”
“But you still don’t trust me with the pastries.”
“Baby steps.”
“Laurel.” Parker took a step closer. “That cake. It’s so damn happy.”
The square layers rose up, stacked like wicker boxes and drenched in color, with a combination of real and sugar-paste flowers blooming over it.
“It’s a winner, inside and out, but I think my favorite touch is the topper—and that goes to you, Master.”
“She didn’t want usual or formal.” And damn if the laughing bride and groom kicking up their heels in a dance on top of the cake didn’t make her smile. “The artist really captured them.”
“And we’re going to be getting requests for personalized toppers like this the minute this one’s unveiled.”
“Which is relatively soon. I’ve got to—”
“Coffee.” Malcolm handed her a cup.
“Oh.Thanks.”
