Happy Ever After (16 page)

With the clock ticking in her head, she watched them go. “Mother of the bride and son, your turn. After seating your mom, Brent, move up on the left of the best man. And go!”

Lovely, she thought. It all looked lovely, and right on time.“Cue procession music. First attendant . . . Go. Smile! Head up. You look amazing. Second attendant . . . Go. Shoulders back, Rissa! Maid of honor, on the mark.” She didn’t have to remind this one to smile, she noted, as the MOH was already beaming. “And go. Perfect. Okay, Cody, remember your job.” She winked at the little boy who carried a white pillow with mock wedding rings. “Batter up!”

He grinned and strutted out.

“Your turn, Ally.You look like a fairy princess. Sprinkle your petals, and smile. Have fun, then go right to Mommy up front. Good girl.”

“Oh boy, oh boy,” Marilee said with a breathless laugh.

“You’re not only a beautiful bride, but one of the happiest I’ve ever sent down the aisle. Ready for the big moment, Mr. Gregory?”

“She’s not nervous, so I’m nervous for both of us.”

“It doesn’t show.You just look incredibly handsome.Take a few breaths, easy in and out. Cue bride’s music. Here you go.Take that one moment at the entrance to pause. Let everybody get a good view of how amazing you look. And go!”

Parker waited until all attention focused on the bride, until the angle changed so there was no chance she’d come into Mac’s frame.

Then she moved out, and off to the side to be, like her partners, invisible, but ready to address the smallest glitch or biggest problem.

For the next twenty minutes, Parker was pleased not to be needed at all.

“So far, so good,” she murmured into her headset.“And beautifully done.Are we set in the Solarium for guests during photos?”

“Set and double set,” Emma assured her.“And the Grand Hall’s on schedule. I say so far, so excellent.”

“You’d be right. MOH didn’t get all the weepies out. She’s okay, but she’s going to need a touch-up before photos.”

“Makeup’s in the kitchen,” Laurel told her. “Grabbing some food during the break. I’ll send someone out in five.”

“Five works.We’re at ring exchange.”

When the happy couple danced down the aisle—literally, as the groom stopped halfway to lift his laughing bride and swing her in a circle—Parker applauded.

Then got back to work.

With Mac herding the bridal party in one direction, she herded guests in the other. Subcontractors scrambled to rearrange chairs, add tables to the terrace.

After the photo and cocktail break—and only six minutes off schedule—Parker invited the guests into the Grand Hall for brunch.

There were always details that needed attending, adjusting, but watching the dancing during reception, Parker felt everything, onstage and backstage, had run particularly smoothly.

“Parker.” Larry stepped up to her. “I know you’re busy, but I wonder if you could indulge me.”

“Of course.What can I do for you?”

“I wonder if you’d give me a dance.”

Not usual protocol, but she knew when a rule needed to be bent or broken. “I’d be delighted.”

“It’s been a very good day,” he said as they stepped onto the floor.“A joyful one.You helped me get to the point where I could fully enjoy it.”

“I think you’d have gotten there on your own.”

“I hope so, but I didn’t have to. I watched you today, something I’m sure I’d have missed if we hadn’t talked.”

“Oh?”

“You’re very good at your work, and very good at not letting it show it’s work. Your parents would be very proud of you, of what you’ve built here.”

“Thank you.”

“My mother was impressed, and believe me, she doesn’t impress easily. She has a dear old friend whose granddaughter just got engaged. If my mother has her way, and she usually does, you’ll have another client.”

“There’s nothing we like more than a satisfied referral.”

She nearly missed a step as she caught a glimpse of Malcolm—where the hell did he come from?—leaning against the wall, talking to Jack.

And watching her.

He threw her off, she admitted as she ordered herself to tune back in to Larry for the remainder of the dance.That had to stop. But the bottom line was, at the moment, she couldn’t allow herself to be thrown off. She had a schedule to keep, an event to follow through to the end, and another to begin.

When the music ended, she stepped back.

“Thanks for indulging me.” Larry gave her hands a squeeze. “You and your partners put on a beautiful wedding.”

“That’s exactly what we love to hear, and I have to get back to it.”

She signaled the DJ to start the next segment—bouquet toss, garter toss, both of which she organized and supervised. She helped a guest locate a left shoe—a very nice Jimmy Choo—kicked off in the enthusiasm of a dance, and helped another with a quick repair on a hem.

Since Laurel was busy helping the caterers serve cake and coffee, Emma and her team had sectional breakdowns and redressing already underway, and Mac would continue to rove and roam and document the reception, Parker grabbed Del.

“We need to start transferring the gifts.”

“Sure. Emma shanghaied Jack on flower detail. They’re doing something somewhere.”

Parker knew precisely what and where. “They’re changing over the Solarium and the Grand Hall for the next event.”

“Okay.”

She jogged down the back stairs. “Where’s Malcolm?”

“Somewhere.Why?”

“I saw he was here, that’s all.”

“Is that a problem?”

“No.” She felt her shoulders tense, willfully relaxed them. “I just wasn’t expecting him. It’s a busy day.”

“So put him to work.”

What she did was put him out of her mind and she, Del, the valets, and the drivers began to transfer wedding gifts from the display tables to the bridal limo.

By the time the task was completed, some of the early departures called for their cars. She guided some out, assisted those to whom the bride and groom had offered flowers.

Keeping to the timetable, she dashed back up to give the DJ the nod for announcing the last dance.

Laurel stepped up beside her.“I’ll do the sweep if you take the herding.You’re better at herding.”

“Agreed.”

“Take-away cake and desserts are all boxed up so I can give Emma a hand, at least until Mac and Carter are free, then I’ve got to hit my own stuff for the next event.”

“She’s on her way to box whatever flowers the bride wants to take or give away from this point.”

“I’ll stick with her until I have to move on. How’d you talk Mal into hauling flowers?”

“What? I didn’t.” Parker’s eyes widened. “He is?”

“I ran into him when he was carrying a small forest into the Grand Hall. From woodland violets to a rain forest of exotic orchids and whatever else is in there. Gotta say, Emma’s done the amazing again.”

She didn’t know what to think about Malcolm and orchids, and didn’t have time in any case. Herding included making certain the guests worked their way out of the house instead of wandering through it, and giving the bride and groom her attention until they were safely in their limo and driving away.

When they were gone, she let out one satisfied breath.

“Nice job.”

And whirled around to see Malcolm in the doorway holding a plate.

“It was, but it’s only half the job today.”

“So I’m told. Here.”

She frowned at the plate he held out.“I don’t want that. I don’t have time for that.”

“I’m just the messenger. Mrs. Grady sent it, and according to the rules of Mrs. G, as messenger I’m required to tell you to sit down for five minutes, eat. She made me promise to report back to her either way.” He cocked his head. “I don’t know about you, but I’m not bucking her.”

“Fine.” She took the plate holding some sort of cold pasta and vegetable medley, sat on one of the portico benches, and ate.

Malcolm pulled a small bottle of water out of his pocket, offered it.

“Thanks.You picked a bad day to drop by and hook up with Del or Jack or Carter. Saturdays are routinely our busiest, and we’ve called all hands on deck.”

“I didn’t come by to hook up.” He dropped onto the bench beside her. “I came to collect my hundred from Jack, and to see you.”

“I’m too busy to be seen.”

“I’m seeing you now.”

“We appreciate you pitching in, but you don’t have to—”

“No problem. I got food, beer, and some damn good cake out of it. Did you get any of that—the cake?”

“No, I haven’t—”

“Had time,” he finished and smiled at her. “I hear there’s a big fancy dinner and more cake on tap later. Hauling flowers and chairs and whatever around for that seems like a good trade.”

She stabbed more pasta. She noted he’d shaved that morning and his jeans were free of holes and grease stains. Despite the chill, he wore only a black tee.

“Your garage is open on Saturdays.Why aren’t you working?”

“I worked till one.” He leaned back, closed his eyes. “Put in a long one last night.”

“What’s a long one?”

“Till about two. Kid banged up the grill, cracked a headlight on his daddy’s Jag, which I cleverly deduced he wasn’t supposed to drive while said daddy was away with his girlfriend.The kid was desperate to get it fixed before the old man got back and before the household staff noticed and narced on him. Paid me to expedite the parts and labor.”

“That’s deceitful.”

He opened his eyes.“He’s not my kid, so that’s not my business. If it were my business, I’d probably say if the old man paid as much attention to the kid as he does to the girlfriend, the kid wouldn’t have taken the Jag out in the first place. Hell of a ride, anyway.”

“He may be an exceptional father just taking a couple of days for himself.”

“The kid’s mother is on a year’s sojourn—that’s the word the kid used—in Tibet where she’s exploring her spiritual self or whatever the fuck, to revisit her truth after divorce three. So he’s dumped on the father who leaves him with a house full of paid staff while he pursues his work and his women. Being rich doesn’t make you a selfish bastard,” he added, “it just makes you a hell of a lot more comfortable when you already are.”

Sympathy warmed her eyes, her voice. “You’re talking about Chad Warwick.”

“Yeah, that’s the kid.You know him?”

“I know the family, though that’s not an accurate term for the situation. I heard Bitsy was going to Tibet. Also heard that she’s spent the last couple of months on her spiritual sojourn on the Côte d’Azur.”

“Nice.”

“No, it’s really not. Poor boy.” She rose, held out the plate. “You can report back to the general, and take proof that I followed orders.”

He got to his feet, took the plate. Held her gaze as the light breeze ruffled his already ruffled hair. “I’ll be staying for the next round.”

“That’s up to you.”

Now he reached around, closed his hand over her ponytail. “I got my hundred, so the rest of it’s about seeing you.” He leaned down, took her mouth—hard, hot, fast. “So, I’ll be seeing you.”

When he strolled out of sight, Parker told herself she could spare thirty seconds to sit down, to get her legs back under her.

Since it took twice that, she had to sprint up the stairs to check on the suites, and stay on schedule.

A
S EXPECTED, THE EVENING EVENT ENTAILED PROBLEMS, MINI crises, and personal conflicts Parker outmaneuvered, solved, or tamped down.

She solved the potential combat between the feuding MOB and GMOB by taking each on separate tours of the facilities while the other got her face time with the bride.

And firmly played Switzerland when each woman listed the faults and failings of the other.

She managed to keep the groom’s good friend occupied, and segregated from any areas his ex-wife, the bride’s sister, might pass through.

While personalities and defusing human time bombs ate up most of her time and energies, she passed what she thought of as guard duty on to Mac or Laurel long enough to run personal checks on the setup.

Step-by-step, she glimpsed Emma transforming forest and meadow into an elegant and elaborate feast for the eyes while Laurel added finishing touches on a five-layer cake as spectacular as a white diamond.

In the Bride’s Suite, Mac documented another transformation—one of woman to bride, capturing the moment of pride and pleasure when their client stood in her glimmering white gown, sparkling with silver beads on the strapless bodice.

Parker watched the bride sweep back her elaborate skirt so her mother—obviously too overcome to think of feuds—could fasten the icy fire of diamonds around her daughter’s neck.

“Something old,” the mother murmured.

Parker knew Mac would capture that iced fire, the lovely lines of the bride’s shoulders, the sweep of the dress—but the moment and the photo would also illuminate the emotion between mother and daughter as they smiled into each other’s damp eyes.