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“Not in her mind. I’m hoping she reaches it this afternoon. She isn’t exactly reasonable, though,” she added in the understatement of the year, and possibly the decade. She wondered if maybe she could get Eric to come stand behind her, with that big gun visible in his holster—
—and just like that, boom, he was front and center in her thoughts so sharply that for a moment she physically felt him inside her. A warm flush swept over her body, and her face got hot. Swiftly she looked down, hiding her expression. She should not be having thoughts like this with her mother sitting right there, for God’s sake. She should be concentrating on the job and nothing else.
But how could she, really, just block him out as if the night hadn’t happened? She couldn’t compartmentalize her life like that. He was way outside her experience, and until she got an emotional and mental handle on how explosively fast things had happened between them, of course she’d think about him—even when she was trying her best not to.
If she could just get through this week, she’d have time to think about him.
The weather cleared as promised, with a breeze chasing the rain to the east and a nice blue sky following. That afternoon, Jaclyn found herself smiling, just a little, even though she was on her way to meet with Carrie and the poor vendors. The next few days were going to be hectic, but so far things were going smoothly. Wedding number one was relatively small and Madelyn shouldn’t have any trouble handling it on her own, unless there was an unforeseen problem. Unforeseen problems were par for the course, but they tried to be prepared for any contingency.
Lunch had been excellent, a take-out salad eaten at her desk. The phone hadn’t rung for a good twenty minutes, so she’d had time to eat in peace.
And now the sky was a clear blue, traffic was light, and her body hummed in contentment, as it had all day.
“Don’t think about him, don’t think about him,” she murmured to herself. She had to be on her toes for the next several days, until after the week’s final wedding; if she let herself get distracted she’d make mistakes, overlook details. In five days this crush of work would be behind her and she could decide … whatever she decided. He might not call. She thought he would, but who knew? Maybe he was special—the possibility of which scared the crap out of her even though it also made her feel excited and happy and on the brink of something important. If he did call, and he was special—She was doing it again, thinking about him despite her best efforts.
But there was nothing like dealing with Carrie to bring her back to reality with a resounding thud.
The reception hall was built like a Greek temple, with columns and urns and ivy climbing the walls. The building was about ten years old, and judging by how long it took to get a booking, it had been a wonderful investment for the owners. Carrie had insisted that her wedding be here and nowhere else, and had even pushed back her wedding date when the date she’d selected had already been booked. That was one time she hadn’t been able to throw a tantrum and get her way.
Because this was a weekday the spacious parking lot was far from full, but a few cars were parked near the side entrance. Jaclyn recognized Carrie’s car, and her smile quickly faded. Carrie had the unique ability to affect time, making a minute seem like an hour, and an hour seem like an eternity in hell. There were times when Jaclyn had wondered what the poor groom saw in the woman he was marrying, but in Carrie’s case she actually felt as if she should call the guy and tell him to run far and run fast.
As she grabbed her briefcase, slung her purse over her shoulder, and stepped out of the Jag, Jaclyn spotted Gretchen’s car. Her heart dropped. Gretchen wasn’t supposed to be here for another half hour; Jaclyn wouldn’t schedule any vendor to meet with a bridezilla without someone from Premier present to smooth the way. She’d bet the Jag that Carrie had called the dressmaker and changed the time of their meeting. This could not be good.
Jaclyn picked up her pace as she strode toward the side entrance, hoping she wasn’t too late. She’d taken six steps down the hallway when she found out she was much too late.
Gretchen turned a corner, all but running toward the parking lot and escape. Her face was red and she was clutching a short length of fabric in one hand. When she saw Jaclyn she skidded to a stop, her jaw clenching for a moment before she let loose.
“She could pay me a million dollars, and I wouldn’t remake her bridesmaids’ dresses. No amount of money is worth putting up with that bitch.” Gretchen was short and plump, fiftyish and attractive, bottle blond and always nicely dressed. She was also normally easygoing and smiling, but not today. “The bridesmaids can be naked, for all I care.”
Well, that was fairly definitive. Jaclyn took a deep breath. “What did she say?”
Gretchen blinked back tears. “Among other things, she said the quality of the work on the dresses is subpar, and I’m lucky she hasn’t fired me. Because my work is so shoddy, she can’t see why I won’t make the new gowns in the next two weeks, because I can’t possibly be that busy, not with so many competent seamstresses in the area.” Gretchen’s chin trembled, then she quickly firmed it. “She said she’d blackball me, that I’d never work on an important wedding again if I didn’t do exactly as she ordered.”
Jaclyn placed a calming hand on Gretchen’s arm and said in a low voice. “You know better than that. Don’t let her intimidate you. No one in her right mind will take a word she says seriously.”
“I hope you’re right.” Gretchen gained control of herself. “We’ll find out soon. No matter what, I’m out. Life’s too short to deal with people like her.”
Jaclyn had to agree, but she was going to do her best to hang in there. The groom’s family was a prominent one; his mother came from an old Georgia family with money up the wazoo, and his father was in state politics. If she could get through the next month, she’d be golden.
Still, if Carrie ever attempted to hire Premier to plan an event again, they would be much too busy. Even if they were destitute and twiddling their thumbs, they’d be too busy.
She found Carrie sitting in the main reception hall, claiming a chair near the single table that was set up for her meetings. The rest of the large room was empty, cavernous and open. The stage at the far end of the room was dark, deserted. The hardwood floor had recently been cleaned and shined to a sparkle, but without the usual arrangement of chairs and tables, it looked a little sad. When everything was in place, the linen-covered tables and fragrant flower arrangements, the hot buffet and cakes, the flickering candlelight casting a magic spell while music flowed over the room, this became the perfect place for a wedding reception.
Right now it just looked empty, but for a crushed fabric sample that had been tossed to the floor, a few feet away from the bride-to-be.
“You’re late,” Carrie snapped without bothering to look at Jaclyn.
One more month …
“I’m five minutes early,” Jaclyn said calmly. “Did you change the time of the meeting with Gretchen and neglect to tell me?”
At that, Carrie flicked her hard gaze upward. “I strongly suggest that you steer your clients away from that unreasonable woman. In fact, I insist—”
Jaclyn placed her briefcase on the table. “I always recommend Gretchen highly, and I’ll continue to do so.”
“She’s incompetent. Her work is shoddy.”
“If I were you, I’d be very careful about making statements like that. She could sue you for damages, and despite your connections, she’d win. She’s made dresses for some very important women in this town, in this state, and every one of them could come out on her side. And let me warn you: she has a lot of close friends in the same business. It’s almost like a guild, and she’s very well respected, especially in the Southeast. If you ever expect to have a gown custom made again, I’d suggest you let this one go. The bridesmaids’ gowns have already been made, they’re lovely, and now it’s time to move on.”
