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“He’s handy,” Laurel commented.
“My middle name. Got anything else?”
“Actually, we’re right on . . . Crap.” Parker tapped her earpiece. “She’s just turned in. She’s early.The woman’s late for everything, but today she’s early.” As she spoke, Parker whipped off her apron, stepped out of the Uggs and into the heels she’d left beside Laurel’s. She pulled lip gloss out of her pocket, applying it as she ran.
“How does she do that?” Malcolm asked.
“Multitask, that’s Parker’s middle name.” Laurel stepped off the stool. “You two work out pretty well.”
“You think?”
“She’s happy, and she’s confused. A lot of things make Parker happy. Spreadsheets, for instance, and for mysterious reasons. But very little confuses her.”
Laurel paused to take a long sip from a bottle of water.“As her friend since always, I think, yeah, you two work out pretty well. I’m sure you’ve already heard this from Del, but if you mess her up, you will pay.We’re like the Borg on this kind of thing.”
“Resistance is futile?”
“I really do like you, Mal.” She gave him a quick and brilliant smile. “So I hope I don’t have to hurt you.”
He hoped the same.
With Parker busy helping the bride, he was free to wander around. He’d been to a handful of events now, and it occurred to him that the four women and their army of assistants somehow managed to make each one unique. Parker’s timetable might’ve been rigid, but under it, over it, around it, everything else reflected the personal. And from what he’d observed, the time and sweat that went into making it so.
He found Del, Jack, and Carter at the bar in the Solarium.
“Just what I was after.”
Del reached down, put a beer on the bar. “We’re keeping Carter sane.”
“Yeah? What’re you drinking there, Prof?”
“It’s tea. It’s a nice herbal tea.”
“Jesus Christ, your sister’s getting hitched and you’re drinking pussy tea?”
“That’s exactly right. I have to put on a tux, and I have to escort people, including my mother, down the aisle. I have to make a toast. I’m going to be sober.”
“He’s freaked,” Jack commented.
“Shows. If you’re freaked about your sister doing the I Do deal, how are you going to handle doing it yourself?”
“I’m not thinking about that yet. I’m going to get through today. I’d be better if I could be up there, helping Mac, but Sherry won’t let me. I just need to—” He broke off, pulled out the beeper in his pocket. “Oh, well, that’s me. I mean that’s Nick.They’re here. I have to go and be there.”
He downed the tea like medicine. “I’ll be fine,” he said resolutely, then walked away.
“We’ll get him drunk later,” Del said.
“Looking forward to it.” Mal lifted his beer, and the three men clinked bottles.
IT WAS PERFECT, PARKER THOUGHT. SHERRY’S LAUGHTER FILLED THE Bride’s Suite as she and her attendants dressed. The absolute joy proved infectious, and provided Mac with countless photos of happy faces, mugging faces, embraces—and the bride twirling exuberantly in front of the mirror.
Eyes watered up a bit as Pam Maguire helped her daughter adjust her headpiece, and when Michael stepped in for his first look at his baby girl.
“Sherry.” He stopped to clear his throat. “You’re a vision.”
“Daddy.” Still holding her mother’s hand, she reached for her father’s, pulled them together. Turned to the mirror again, her arms around her parents’ waists, she beamed like the sun. “Get a load of us.”
Get a load of you, Parker thought as Mac captured the moment. They were beautiful and happy and together. It made her ache, just a little, for what she’d never have. That moment would never be hers.
She took a breath, shook it off. “It’s time.”
The bride smiled her way down the aisle behind her pretty attendants.When she reached the groom, whose jaw had dropped satisfactorily at the sight of her before his grin burst out, she reached for his hand, laughed.
And Parker thought, yes, it’s just exactly right.
“
BEST PARTY EVER,” MAC DECLARED. “AS ORDERED. HOW ARE WE going to top that?” She tipped her head to Carter’s shoulder.
They hadn’t managed to get him drunk—he’d held out and held up, and now slumped on the sofa in the family parlor, two fingers of whiskey in his hand.
“She sparkled,” he replied.
“Yeah, she really did.”
“Damn good cake.” Malcolm shoveled in a bite.“It’s my favorite part of these deals.”
“A man of taste,” Laurel said, and yawned. “Tomorrow’s is chocolate ganache.”
“Will I like it?”
“Yes, unless you go insane during the night. Haul me up, Del. I am so done.”
“Go, team us.” Emma, eyes closed, snuggled against Jack.“Can I just sleep here?”
Jack rose, gathered her up. She smiled sleepily as she wound her arms around his neck. “I love when you do that.”
“You earned a ride. ’Night, all.”
“I, on the other hand, am pumped. I’m going to take a look at some of the shots before I turn in.” Mac elbowed Carter. “Come on, cutie, let’s go so you can hail my genius.”
He managed to unfold himself. “Parker, thanks for giving my sister a day none of us will ever forget.”
“Oh, Carter.”Touched, she rose to step over and kiss his cheek. “I promise you and Mac exactly the same.”
She watched them go.
“I can see the wheels turning,” Malcolm commented.
“I did get some ideas today. We’ll see if I can make them happen.”
“If anybody can.” He paused. “Am I staying?”
“I’d like you to.” She held out a hand.
ON A BRISK OCTOBER AFTERNOON WITH CLOUDS SCUTTLED ACROSS the sky, and tumbles of colored leaves scooting over the lawn ahead of the wind, Parker called a midday meeting.
To brighten the mood she lit a fire, as fires had always crackled or simmered in the library on chilly days in autumn. And as the flames caught, she wandered to one of the windows to look out on the roll of land, the shivering trees, the rippling gray water in the pond.
She didn’t often wonder where her life was going. More often than not her focus centered on the details, plans, contingencies, needs, wants, fantasies of others. Maybe it was the contrasts of the day, that soft and gloomy sky against the still brilliant trees.The leaves shedding themselves to dance and whirl in the air while the mums and asters stubbornly bloomed.
Everything seemed paused for change, but was she? Change was as much about loss as gain, about giving something up even as you reached for something new or different. And, she admitted, she prized routine, tradition, even repetition.
Routine equaled security, safety, stability. While the unknown often grew on shaky ground.
And that, she realized, was a line of thinking as gloomy as the sky. The world was opening up, she reminded herself, not closing in. She’d never been a coward, never been afraid to take those steps onto unsettled ground.
Life changed, and it should. Her three closest friends were getting married, starting new phases of their lives. One day, she imagined, there would be children tumbling like those colorful leaves on the lawn.That’s how it should be.
That’s what home was for.
Their business was expanding. And if after the meeting they were in agreement, it would expand again, in new, uncharted areas.
Then there was Malcolm—and that, she had to admit, was the crux of this nervy, unsettled feeling. God knew he was a change. She couldn’t decide if he’d just slid cagily, craftily into her life or kicked open doors she’d thought she’d cautiously bolted.
Most days, she thought, it seemed to be a combination of both.
However he’d gotten in, she still couldn’t quite figure out what to expect
from him. An attentive lover, then a wildly demanding one; an amusing companion, then one who peppered her with questions that pushed her to think both inside and outside the box.The risk-taker, the devoted son, the bad boy, the shrewd businessman.
He had all those facets, and she felt she’d barely touched the surface.
She appreciated his innate curiosity, and the skill he possessed in digging out information, histories, connections. He ended up, she’d come to realize, learning a great deal about other people.
And was frustratingly stingy with personal data.
Most of what she knew of his history came from other sources. He had a way of skirting around the edges whenever she asked a question about his childhood, his early time in California, even his recovery from the accident that had brought him home again.
If their relationship had stayed a surface one, the reticence wouldn’t matter. But it hadn’t, Parker thought, so it did. It mattered because she’d gone past interest, swung into attraction, burst through lust, tripped over affection, and was now skidding out of control into love.
And she wasn’t altogether happy about it.
The rain began in thin, spitting drops as Laurel came in with a big tray.
“If we’re going to have a meeting this time of day, we might as well eat.” She cast Parker a look as she set the tray down. “Don’t you look pensive and perturbed.”
