A taste, she thought, of things to come.

“Em!”

Bent over between the urns, her arms full of tulips, Emma turned her head. And Mac snapped her camera. “Looking good.”

“The flowers are. I hope to look better before the consult. Our biggest client to date requires careful grooming.” She placed the pots. “All around.”

In a suit as boldly green as her eyes, Mac stood, legs spread, feet planted. “Not much time left to beautify.”

“Nearly done. This is the last.” With her system bursting with flowers and scents, Emma took a deep breath. “God! What a gorgeous day.”

“You’re pretty chirpy.”

“I had a really good date last night.” After stepping back to examine the portico, she hooked an arm with Mac’s. “It had everything. Comedy, drama, conversation, sex. I feel . . . energized.”

“And look starry-eyed.”

“Maybe.” Briefly, she dipped her head to Mac’s shoulder. “I know it’s too soon, and we’re not even talking about—or anywhere near—the serious L. But . . . Mac, you know how I always had this fantasy about the moonlit night, the stars—”

“Dancing in the garden.” Instinctively, Mac slid an arm around Emma’s waist. “Sure, since we were kids.”

“I dreamed it last night, and it was Jack. I was dancing with Jack. It’s the first time I ever had the dream, or imagined it where I knew who I danced with. Don’t you think that means something?”

“You’re in love with him.”

“That’s what Parker said last night before I went out, and of course, I’m all no, no, I’m not. And, of course, as usual, she’s right. Am I crazy?”

“Who said love was sane? You’ve sort of been there before.”

“Sort of been,” Emma agreed. “Wanted to be, hoped to be. But now that I am, it’s more than I imagined. And I imagined a lot.” Emma sidestepped, pivoted, pirouetted. “It makes me happy.”

“Are you going to tell him?”

“God, no. He’d freak. You know Jack.”

“Yes,” Mac said carefully, “I know Jack.”

“It makes me happy,” Emma repeated as she laid a hand on her heart. “I can stay there for now. He has feelings for me. You know when a man has feelings for you.”

“True enough.”

“So I’m going to be happy and believe he’ll fall in love with me.”

“Emma, solid truth? I don’t know how he could resist you. You’re good together, that’s easy to see. If you’re happy, I’m happy.”

But Emma knew Mac’s tones, her expressions, her heart. “You’re worried I’ll get hurt. I can hear it in your voice. Because, well, we know Jack. Mac, you didn’t want to fall in love with Carter.”

“You’ve got me there.” Mac’s lips curved as she danced her fingers at the ends of Emma’s hair. “I didn’t, but I did, so I should stop being so cynical.”

“Good. Now I’ve got to stop standing around and go transform into a professional. Tell Parker I’m done, will you, and I’ll be back in twenty.”

“Will do.” And with concern showing now, Mac watched her friend rush off.


An hour later, dressed in a trim suit and low heels, Emma took the lead in escorting the future bride, her eagle-eyed mother, and the mother’s fascinated sister around the gardens.

“You can see what we’ll have blooming next spring, and I realize the gardens aren’t as flush as you need or want.”

“They just can’t wait until May or June,” Kathryn Seaman muttered.

“Mom, let’s not go there again.”

“It is, however, prime time for tulips—which I know you favor,” Emma said to Jessica. “We’ll plant more this fall, white tulips, and peach tulips—you’ll have a flood of them, and blue hyacinths. We’ll also fill in with white containers of peach roses, delphinium, snapdragons, stock, the hydrangeas. All in your colors, popped out by the white. I plan to back this area here with a screen covered with roses.”

She turned her smile on Kathryn. “I promise you, it’ll be like a fantasy garden, and as full and lush and romantic as anything you could wish for your daughter’s wedding.”

“Well, I’ve seen your work so I’m going to take your word.” Kathryn nodded to Mac. “The engagement photos were everything you said they’d be.”

“It helps to have two gorgeous people wildly in love.”

“We had so much fun, too.” Jessica beamed at Mac. “Plus, I felt like a storybook princess.”

“You looked like one,” her mother said. “All right, let’s talk about the terraces.”

“If you remember from the sketches at the proposal,” Emma began, and led the way.

“I’ve seen your work as well.” Adele, the bride’s aunt, scanned the terraces. “I’ve been to three weddings here, and all were beautifully done.”

“Thank you.” Parker added a polite smile to the acknowledgment.

“Actually, what you’ve done here, built here, has inspired me to look into plans for doing something similar. We live part of the year in Jamaica. A destination wedding spot. And a perfect place for a good, upscale, all-inclusive wedding company.”

“You’re serious about that?” Kathryn asked her.

“I’ve been looking into it, and getting more serious. My husband’s going to retire,” Adele told Parker. “And we plan to spend even more time in our winter home there. It would be an excellent investment, I think, and something fun.”

She gave Emma a twinkling smile and a wink. “Now, if I could lure you away with the promise of unlimited tropical flowers and balmy island breezes, I’d have my first real building block.”

“Tempting,” Emma said in the same light tone, “but Centerpiece of Vows keeps me busy. If you move forward with your plans, I’m sure any of us will be happy to answer any questions you might have. Now, for this area . . .”


After the meeting all four women collapsed in the parlor.

“God.” Laurel stretched out her legs. “That woman sure knows how to put you through your paces. I feel like we had the event instead of just talking it through. Again.”

“Unless there are any objections, I’d like to black out the Friday and Sunday around the event. The size and scope of this wedding will more than make up for that lost revenue, plus the publicity and the word of mouth will bring in more.” Parker toed off her shoes. “That would give us the full week to focus exclusively on this.”

“Thank God.” Emma heaved a long, relieved sigh. “The amount of flowers and landscaping, the type of bouquets and arrangements, centerpieces, swags, garlands, ornamental trees? I’d have to hire more designers to get it done. But with that full week on the single event, I think I can stick with the usual team. I can add someone else if need be for the actual dressing, but I’d really prefer to do as much of this as I can personally, and with the people I know.”

“I’m right there with Emma,” Laurel said. “The cakes, the dessert bar, the personalized chocolates, they’re all on the elaborate and labor-intensive side. If I had the full week on nothing else, I’d actually get a couple hours’ sleep.”

“Make it three for three.” Mac raised a hand. “They want full photo documentation of the rehearsal, and the rehearsal dinner, so if we had another event on Friday, I’d have to assign a photographer to that as I’d have to cover the Seamans. As it is I’m putting two more on the event itself, plus two videogra phers. Keeping Sunday black means we don’t have to kill ourselves and our subs breaking down, and redressing.”

“Which doesn’t even begin to address what they expect of you,” Emma said to Parker.

“So we’re agreed. And,” Parker added, “I’ll let the MOB know we’re clearing our decks for wedding week so we can give her daughter’s wedding all our time, attention, and skill. She’ll like that.”

“She likes us,” Emma pointed out. “The concept of a company founded and run by four women appeals to her.”

“And her sister. Who else did the sneaky Adele try to lure to Jamaica?” Laurel asked.

All four women raised hands.

“And she didn’t even realize it was rude,” Parker added. “

Our business. It’s not like we’re employees. We own it.”

“Rude, yes, but I don’t think she meant any harm.” Emma shrugged. “I elect to be flattered. She considers my flowers fabulous, Laurel’s cakes and pastries superb, Parker’s coordinating unmatched. Added to that, Mac blew it out of the park with the engagement photos.”

“I did,” Mac agreed. “I really did.”

“Let’s all take a moment to congratulate ourselves on our brilliance and talent.” Parker offered a toast with her bottle of water. “Then get back to work.”

“If we’re taking a moment, I’d like to thank Emma for last night’s entertainment.”

Emma sent Laurel a blank look. “Sorry?”

“I happened to be taking a little air on my terrace last night before settling in for the night, and noticed a car barreling down the drive. For a minute I thought, uh-oh, something happened. But no, not quite yet.”

“Oh my God.” Emma slapped her hands over her eyes. “Oh my God.”

“When no one immediately jumped out gushing blood, or jumped out at all, I actually considered running down, prepared to do triage. But momentarily both car doors flew open. Emma out of one, Jack out of the other.”

“You watched?”

Laurel snorted. “Duh.”

“More,” Mac demanded. “We must have more.”

“And more you will have. They fell on each other like animals.”

“Oh, we did . . . too,” Emma recalled.

“Then it’s the classic back against the door.”

“Oh, it’s been so long since I had the back against the door,” Parker said with a delicate shiver for emphasis. “Too long.”

“From my view, Jack’s got the move down cold. Or hot, I should say. But our girl holds her own. Or was it his?”

“Jesus, Laurel!”