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Jaclyn’s eyes went wide in shock that her mother—her mother!—knew what a fluffer was. Her mouth opened and closed, then opened again. “Mom!” she said weakly, which was the best she could do.
“What?” Madelyn growled.
“Fluffer?”
“Oh.” A flush warmed her cheeks. She sniffed. “Well. Evidently you know what a fluffer is, too, so you can’t say anything.”
“I found out when I read it on a blog. How do you know what it is?”
“Oh, the same way,” Madelyn said airily.
“Uh-huh,” Jaclyn said. “Right.”
“Don’t go all Victorian on me when I’ve been ready to snatch that bitch bald-headed on your behalf, young lady.”
“And I’m grateful for the hair-snatching sentiment, which has nothing to do with how you know what a fluffer is.”
Madelyn gave her a stern glance. “I’m giving you the compliment of treating you like an adult. I imagine we’ve both done some personal fluffing, so let’s just let the subject drop.” She glanced at her wristwatch. “I want to give myself a cushion in case traffic is tied up, but I have another ten minutes or so. Do you have anything else to do, or are you finished for the day?”
“I’m finished. I have a ton of laundry to do, so I think I’ll just go home. The stress of dealing with Carrie has worn me out. I need a couple of hours of HGTV, or maybe the History channel, to unwind.”
“If anything else happens with that heifer, call me immediately. I don’t want you dealing with her again. If she contacts Premier, I’ll handle it.”
“Fair enough,” said Jaclyn. She’d held her temper and refrained from retaliating today, but she wasn’t certain she could do it again. She doubted Carrie would contact them again, though, because she wouldn’t want word of her behavior leaking out to the poor moron she was marrying. Sean Dennison seemed like a very sweet guy, and he probably wouldn’t believe it, but from everything Jaclyn had heard, Sean’s mother was a different kettle of fish. Fayre Dennison was a force to be reckoned with; Carrie wouldn’t want to butt heads with her, especially not before she and Sean were married, or there might not be a wedding at all.
She and Madelyn parted company ten minutes later. For her part, Jaclyn felt much better. Listening to her mother rant about Carrie had given her back her sense of humor and perspective. Carrie was behind her now, nothing more than an ugly little speck of fly poop on her rearview mirror.
Funny how just getting Carrie out of her life made her feel much less pushed for time, even though Carrie’s wedding wasn’t one of this week’s heavy load. Her schedule was still hectic, but her stress load had just been halved. Maybe she’d even have time for Eric after all. If just thinking about him had the power to push Carrie completely out of her mind, then at the very least she should muster the courage to find out if he was truly special or just another guy.
Maybe she’d call him. No, not yet. Uncertainly she bit her lip. Probably she should wait to see if he called her next week the way he’d said he would. And probably she should get over doubting herself and have a little fun. Eric didn’t have to be the love of a lifetime, or even this year. She’d had sex with him last night without being in love with him, without any sort of commitment on either of their parts, and the world hadn’t come to an end. Not that she intended to start sleeping around indiscriminately, which seemed kind of unsanitary, but she was overdue for a red-hot affair.
This could be a very interesting summer.
Melissa DeWitt looked up from the contracts on her desk, and for the fifth time in the past fifteen minutes she glanced out the window of the reception hall to see if Carrie Edwards’s car was still there. It was. She heaved a sigh. Why wouldn’t the woman just leave?
She couldn’t see the entire
parking lot, just one corner of it, less than a quarter of the large lot. Carrie had snagged a prime space in the shade. What a quandary she must have faced when she’d arrived: Should she choose the spot closest to the door, or one of the few in the shade? Melissa was a little bit surprised she hadn’t been blasted by the bride because there wasn’t a spot that offered both. God knows Carrie had complained about everything else.
It had been a while since Melissa had heard any noise at all from the reception area, but she’d been making—and taking—a sudden spurt of phone calls, so if there’d been any further fireworks she might have missed them. She couldn’t imagine Jaclyn was still talking to the foul-tempered witch, but why else would Carrie still be here?
Melissa had thought she’d faint from shock when Carrie had actually slapped Jaclyn. Poor Jaclyn! Then she remembered the flash of fire in Jaclyn’s eyes, and the sentiment vanished. Poor Jaclyn, my ass. If anyone could hold her own against someone like Carrie Edwards, it was Jaclyn Wilde. Just because she was normally calm and controlled, with the diplomacy of an ambassador, didn’t mean there wasn’t fire behind the facade. She wondered if Carrie had any idea how close she’d come to getting decked. Jaclyn hadn’t been about to return the slap, she’d been winding up for a full-strength fistfight.
But why was Carrie still here?
Melissa left her desk and stepped to the open doorway of her office, sticking her head into the hallway and straining to hear voices. Silence. Her office was on the other side of the building from the reception area, with a couple of other small meeting rooms and restrooms in between. All afternoon, since Carrie had first arrived, she’d heard the occasional raised voice. Usually there was a lot of laughter and good-natured joking, when these kinds of meetings were held here, but not today.
She didn’t want to face Carrie Edwards alone, but she wanted to lock up and call it a day, and she couldn’t very well do that if the bride-to-be was still in meetings. The only way to find out was to face Carrie. Since the woman had spent all day mowing down everyone in her way, Melissa wasn’t at all anxious to place herself on that path.
Taking a deep breath, she steeled her spine. If the bitch wanted to get violent with her, she would hit back. She wasn’t a violent woman—far from it. At the same time, she wasn’t sure she had the kind of restraint Jaclyn had displayed. Not that Jaclyn had been meek. If looks could kill …
Melissa strained to hear something, anything, as she walked toward the reception area, but the building was completely silent. It was eerie, knowing Carrie was somewhere in the building but not knowing where. She peeked through the door of the reception hall, noted that the table there was still littered with samples and paperwork, and continued down the hallway to the side entrance she’d left unlocked for Carrie and her vendors.
Curiously she stepped outside, wondering if Carrie was standing out in the heat talking to someone else. No one was there. Carrie’s car, and her own, were the only vehicles still in the parking lot.
She stepped back inside, frowning. Was Carrie in the ladies’ room? Had she gotten a ride with someone else and just left her car in the lot to collect later? Why would she do that? Not that it was beyond the realm of possibility, but it would’ve been common courtesy to at least stop by the office and let her know everyone was gone, and that she was leaving her car there for a few hours while she went out for a drink with a friend, perhaps.
Carrie had never shown any common courtesy, though, to anyone. Not only that, it was doubtful she had any real friends. Given that, Melissa hoped Carrie was off with an acquaintance who passed as a friend, and not lurking in the restroom, priming herself for another confrontation. She seemed to thrive on them. Melissa did not thrive on confrontation. The idea of being Carrie’s next target was enough to make her stomach clench in dread. She hadn’t been present for all the meetings today, but she’d checked in often and had seen enough—more than enough.
