“I know, I know. Whatever you can do. You’ve got forty minutes.”

She charged up the back steps, all the way to the gift room, a space designed for gift wrapping, present storage. Inside one of the cabinets she had labeled, prewrapped gifts. She scanned, debated, and after choosing three, slipped them into white embossed gift bags, tucked in black tissue. From another cabinet she grabbed a stack of notepads, pencils, pulled other supplies.

She dashed back down, set the bags and the box of supplies on the dining room table, then zipped through the kitchen and into the old butler’s pantry to choose the proper tray for the display.

“What are you after?” Mrs. Grady asked from behind her.

“The BTB wants games, which the hostess vetoed during the planning stages. I don’t think white bags on a white tray, and we don’t have an appropriate black one. I think silver. Or glass. Maybe glass.”

“Try both.”

“Good idea. Can you come, give me an opinion?”

Mrs. Grady walked along with her. “Oh, your car’s back.”

“Back where?”

“Here.”

Parker stopped, frowned. “My car’s here?”

“Delivered about twenty minutes ago.Washed and waxed, too. I put the bill up on your desk.”

“Oh. But I didn’t ask him to deliver it. I was going to—”

“Saves you time, doesn’t it?” Which, in Mrs. Grady’s opinion, made Malcolm Kavanaugh a very shrewd customer.

Parker said nothing, only continued to frown as she arranged the bags on the silver tray.“I think the glass one’s better.The silver makes too much of a statement, and Emma could sprinkle some white rose petals on the glass, and with the little black vases . . . Who delivered the car?”

Mrs. Grady smothered a smile. “Didn’t catch his name. Well, theirs, as the one had another following him in a tow truck.”

“Oh. Um . . . The glass?”

“I’d say. It’s classy, but more subtle than the silver.”

“Yes, that’s what I’m after.” She stepped back. “I’ll leave this here, go see if I can help Emma set up the table.”

She started out. “Really, I could’ve picked up the car.”

“No doubt.What do you say when someone does you a favor?”

Parker heaved out a breath at the implied tsk in the tone.“You say thank you. I will.When I get a chance.”

She didn’t have one, or so she told herself.The event required her focus, and with the additional time for the unscheduled games ran about thirty minutes over.Which cut back on the time to prep for the evening’s rehearsal.

“The games were a hit,” Mac commented.

“They generally are.”

“Nice prizes. I really liked the travel jewelry caddy, the green leather? Somebody who’s going to Tuscany for her honeymoon could really use one of them.”

“Maybe somebody’ll get lucky.” Parker chugged from a bottle of water. “We seriously pulled that off. And our hostess didn’t bat an eye at the additional invoice for the prizes, especially since I gave her the extra half hour on the house.”

She took a last scan of the terrace.They’d broken down all the tables, but had left the pergola and urns dressed.They had only to set up the refreshment table, and they were good to go.

She probably had five minutes now to call in her thanks, but really, she had to check the invoice first. For all she knew he’d gouged her on a delivery charge.

“I’m just going to—” Her phone rang. “God. Crazy Bride.”

“Better you than me. Go ahead.We’ve got this.”

Crazy Bride ate up her time. And gave her space to think.

SHE’D SEND A THANK-YOU NOTE WITH THE CHECK FOR THE SERVICE and tires.That was, Parker decided as she ran the rehearsal, appropriate.

“With five minutes to go,” she said, “the groom’s brother—and best man—will escort their mother to her seat, with her husband following.That’s perfect.The best man will join the groom, standing to the groom’s left. And at three minutes to go, the bride’s brother will escort their mom to her seat. Brother moves up to the left of best man, right of George. Angle just a little, Sam. Exactly. Music change for the bridal procession.Wendy, Nikki,Addy—and I’ll be there to cue you tomorrow. Remember to smile, ladies. Then Jaci, the maid of honor.

“Good.When she’s halfway down, it’s time for the ring bearer. That’s the way, Kevin!”

The five-year-old strutted down to laughter and applause.

“And the flower girl. Really good, Jenny, and tomorrow there’ll be real flowers in your basket. Kevin on the boys’ side, Jenny on the girls’.You stand right there with your daddy, Kevin.Then . . .”

She trailed off, blank as she looked back and saw Malcolm leaning on one of the urns, a bouquet in his hand. She couldn’t see his eyes, not with the sun slanting off the dark glasses he wore. But she could see his grin clearly enough.

“Then?” the groom prompted with a laugh. “Do I get married?”

“Almost. Music change, everyone stands. And the bride begins her walk escorted by her father.And,” she said to the groom,“she’s the most beautiful woman in the world. She’s everything you’ve ever wanted. And she’s about to be yours.”

She waited. “Stop here. And as you requested, your mom will step over with you and your dad.The minister will ask who gives this woman, and your line, Mr. Falconi?”

“Her mother and I.”

They kissed their daughter, then took her hand and placed it in the groom’s.

“Lovely. Now . . .”

She ran them through the ceremony, hitting the highlights, outlining the timing and choreography.

“He’ll say you may kiss your bride.”

“I got that part.” The groom spun his bride, dipped her while she laughed, and bent to give her a lavish kiss.

“Cecily, if you get cold feet tomorrow, I’m happy to stand in for you.”

The bride laughed again, twinkling at Parker.“My feet are really, really warm, but thanks.”

“I bet. At that point, you’ll face your friends and family, the minister will introduce you for the first time as husband and wife, and those of us not still swooning over that kiss will applaud. Music changes to recessional, and you’ll walk down the aisle. Mac will take you from there. From here, the rest of the wedding party recesses in reverse order. Flower girl and ring bearer first.”