“Three out of five?” Mac did a double fist pump. “Woo-hoo.”

“I’m betting four out of five, because Daddy’s girl wants us, and wants us bad.The fifth? The bride just isn’t ready to decide. Her mother wants us, which my instincts tell me is a strike against us in this case.We’ll see.”

“Well, I’m psyched. Three fulls and I’ve bagged the perfect wedding shoes. I’m going home to give my guy a big wet kiss, and he won’t know it’s because he’s taking dance lessons. Thanks, Parks. See you later.”

Parker sat, studied the shoes on the counter. She thought of Mac rushing home to Carter.Thought of Laurel greeting Del when he came home after a two-day business conference in Chicago. And Emma maybe sitting out on her little patio having wine with Jack and dreaming of her own wedding flowers.

She swiveled around to stare at the spreadsheet on the screen. She had her work, she reminded herself. Work she loved. And that’s what mattered right now.

Her BlackBerry signaled, and a glance at the readout told her another bride needed to talk.

“I’ve always got you,” she murmured, then answered. “Hi, Brenna.What can I do for you?”

CHAPTER TWO

PARKER DEALT WITH THE SHOES, AND BECAUSE SHE WAS ON A tight schedule, she only indulged in one pair for herself. She met a bride, the bride’s favorite aunt—who would give her away—and the bride’s maid of honor for lunch to discuss wedding favors, music, and—coincidentally—shoes.

She swung by the bridal boutique where, at the request of another bride, she assisted in the finalization of the gowns for the wedding party, gave her input on underpinnings and headdresses, met yet another bride and entourage to pore over linen choices. Then she dashed to Coffee Talk for a quick meeting with Sherry Maguire, Carter’s delightful sister, whose wedding was imminent.

“Diane’s being a poop,” Sherry announced and pouted with her chin on her fist.

“The wedding’s not about your sister.”

“I know, I know, but she’s still being a poop. A total downer. A kill-all-the-joy bitchfestia.”

“Sherry, in less than two weeks you’re marrying the man you love. Correct?”

The light sparked in Sherry’s summer blue eyes. “Oh yeah.”

“Everything about the day has been designed to make you happy, to celebrate that love. Correct?”

“God. God. It really has.You, all of you, have been amazing.”

“Then be happy. Celebrate. And if your sister’s cranky about it,I have to say that’s her problem.”

“That’s exactly what Nick says.” Sherry tossed up her hands, then shoved them through her sunny blond hair.“And my mother. But . . . she says she’s not coming to the rehearsal or the rehearsal dinner.”

The poop, Parker thought, but showed only light sympathy. “I’m sorry.Why not?”

“She’s not in the wedding, she says. Well, she didn’t want to be. I asked her to be the matron of honor, but she didn’t want that. Didn’t see why she should have to go through all that fuss, why I wanted a matron and a maid of honor.”

“Your sister and your oldest, closest friend.”

“Exactly.” Sherry thumped a fist on the table, then jabbed a spoon in the whipped cream on her fancy coffee. “So now, she doesn’t see why she should get a sitter and come to the dinner. I said the kids were invited, too, but then it’s how she’s not going to ride herd on them all night at a rehearsal dinner, then turn around and ride herd on them at the wedding.Too much stimulation for them, she says, too exhausting for her. So I said we’d pay for the damn sitter then so she and Sam could have the night out. And she got huffy about that. I can’t win.”

“Stop trying to.”

“But she’s my sister, Parker. It’s my wedding.” Tears sparkled as emotion trembled in Sherry’s voice.

And this, Parker thought, had been throughout the entire process, the most cheerful, delightful, and flexible of brides.

Damn if she’d see a moment of it spoiled for her.

“I’ll speak with her.”

“But—”

“Sherry.” Parker laid a hand over hers. “Trust me.”

“Okay.” Sherry sucked in a breath, blew it out as she blinked back the tears. “Sorry. I’m an idiot.”

“You’re not.” To emphasize it, Parker gave Sherry’s hand a quick, firm squeeze. “Let me say, because I know a lot of idiots, you just don’t make the cut. So, do me a favor and put this out of your mind for now. Just put it aside and concentrate on how good things are, and how wonderful they will be.”

“You’re right. I knew you’d make me feel better.”

“That’s what I’m here for.” Under the table, Parker turned her wrist to check the time. She could spare another ten minutes.

“So, you’re all set on your spa and salon dates, your final fittings?”

The ten eked to nearly fifteen, but she’d built time in to cushion the trip back home for the early-evening consult. Even the rain that splattered as she walked back to the car didn’t worry her.

She had plenty of time to drive home, freshen up, grab the files, check on the refreshments, and run through the client data with her partners. But to save time, she plugged in her phone and used the voice controls to contact Laurel.

“Icing at Vows.”

“Hey, I’m on my way in. Are we set?”

“Coffee, tea, champagne, simple yet fabulous hors d’oeuvres, chocolates. Emma’s already switched the flowers.We all have—or will have—our sample albums. Wow, is that thunder?”

“Yeah, it just opened up.” Parker shot a glance to the angry boil of clouds. “I’ll be home in about twenty. Bye.”

The storm roared through, wild and vicious, and she thought just how much she’d have enjoyed it if she’d been inside. Soon would be, she thought, but adjusted her speed cautiously as rain hurled against the windshield.

She rolled along the road toward home, going over details about the new clients in her head.

It happened fast, all in a rain-washed blur.

The dog—deer?—raced across the road. The oncoming car swerved to avoid it, fishtailed. Parker eased off the gas, tapped her brakes, even as her heart leveled again when the animal cleared the road.