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قديم 09-02-11, 01:52 AM   #11

Dalyia

إدارية ومشرفة سابقة وكاتبة بمكتبة روايتي وعضوة بفريق التصميم والترجمة و الافلام والسينما ومعطاء التسالي ونجمة الحصريات الفنية ومميز بالقسم الطبى

 
الصورة الرمزية Dalyia

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¬» مشروبك   pepsi
¬» قناتك mbc4
?? ??? ~
My Mms ~
افتراضي



Then again, maybe he’d banked on his own dubious charm to persuade her to keep the deal.Though she couldn’t see the point of that. Safer to have said nothing.

And wasn’t that the point? she realized.

He wasn’t the type to take the safe choice.

The hell with it, she decided. She’d enjoy the experience before filing it away.

That enjoyment climbed several levels when she realized he zigged and zagged his way toward the water. She caught the scent of it, damp and tinged with salt. She watched the sun flood its evening light over the sound, glint and glimmer over the bumps of Calf Island, catch in the rippling white sails of pleasure boats.

And all the while the machine growled under her, vibrating with power.

Obligations, schedules, duties shed from her mind, and blew away like feathers in the wind.The thunder of her heart throttled back to a steady, relaxed beat as she watched gulls soar and dip. If the phone in her bag rang, she didn’t hear it, didn’t give it a thought.

She lost track of the time, noting only the softening of the light and the air as he doubled back.

He slowed as they cruised into Old Greenwich. Tourists and locals mingled on the busy main street, drawn by the shops and restaurants, the easy distance to the shore. But the bustle didn’t diminish the neighborhood feel.

He turned off the main, putting with traffic before swinging into a minuscule parking spot. He pulled his helmet off as he turned to look at her.

“Hungry?”

“I guess I am.”

“I know a place here that serves the best pizza in Connecticut.”

“Then you haven’t tasted Mrs. G’s.”

“Maybe I’ll get lucky there, but in the meantime . . . You can let go now.”

“Oh.”A little flustered she hadn’t realized she still had her arms around him, she pulled back, climbed off.

He hooked the helmets on the bike. “It’s not far. Just enough to stretch it out a little before we eat.”

“I don’t mind a walk,” she began, then flipped open her purse at the signal. “Sorry, that’s voice mail. I’d better check.”

“How many?” he asked when she muttered a curse under her breath.

“Three.”

“Do they ever give you the night off ?”

“It happens. Rarely, but it happens. People planning a wedding, or a big event like an important anniversary, it becomes their world for a while. Every idea or problem or decision can take on enormous magnitude.”

She started to slip the phone back into her bag, thinking she’d duck into the rest room first chance and handle whatever she could.

“Go ahead and do the callbacks.”

“That’s all right. It can wait for a bit.”

“You’ll be thinking about them, and thinking how to duck away to deal with them. Might as well just do it.”

“I’ll make it quick.”

He slowed the pace to a saunter, listening while she spoke to someone named Gina about chiffon versus taffeta. They agreed Parker would meet her to check out both samples.Then she discussed a Cinderella coach with a Mrs. Seaman. Parker promised to arrange one as she pulled out a notepad and wrote down the specifications. Finally, she assured somebody named Michael that both he and his fiancé, Vince, still had time to learn to swing dance, and rattled off the name and number of a dance instructor.

“Sorry,” she said to Malcolm as she slipped the phone back into its pocket. “And thanks.”

“No problem. Okay, I don’t care about chiffon or taffeta, or the difference in weight and sheen, but where the hell do you get a Cinderella coach outside of Disney?”

“You’d be surprised what you can get, especially if you have the right resources, and in this case a virtually unlimited budget. Mrs. Seaman—that’s Seaman Furniture—wants her daughter to arrive and depart in a Cinderella coach, I’ll make that happen. After I check with the bride to make sure that’s what she wants.”

“Got it. Now, why do Michael and Vince need to swing dance?”

“They’re getting married in February, and finally decided on a Big Band-era theme.They’re wearing zoot suits and spats.”

He took a moment to absorb it. “You’re not kidding.”

“No, and I happen to think it’ll be fun. So naturally, they want to swing, and particularly well for their first dance.”

“Who leads? That’s a serious question,” he said when she gave him a bland stare. “Somebody has to.”

“They can flip a coin, I suppose, or leave it to the instructor. I think Vinnie because Michael’s the one who’s worried about it, and Vinnie’s pretty gung-ho.”

“Then maybe . . . Wait a minute. February? Is it Vinnie Calerone?”

“Yes. Do you know him?”

“Yeah. Knew him when we were kids. My ma’s friendly with his.When he heard I moved back, he came to see me. I service his Mercedes. He said he was getting married in February, said he’d get me an invite.”

“Were you close?”

“Not especially.” He glanced at her, then decided to finish it out. “He was getting the shit beat out of him back in the day. It looked to me like he’d have held his own one-on-one, but there were two of them. I evened the odds. And I was right. He held his own. Vinnie’s wearing a zoot suit.” His grin spread with easy humor. “I can actually see that.”

“You got into a fight for him?”

“Not for him, especially. It was more the two-against-one deal. Beating somebody up because he’s gay is ignorant. Ganging up to do it? That’s cheap. Anyway, it only took a few minutes.This is the place.”

She stared at him another moment, then turned to look at the restaurant. Despite its situation on the inlet, it was little more than a hole-in-the-wall with faded clapboard siding.

“It doesn’t look like much, but—”

“It looks fine, and I’m in the mood for pizza.”

“That makes two of us.”






Dalyia غير متواجد حالياً  
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قديم 09-02-11, 01:54 AM   #12

Dalyia

إدارية ومشرفة سابقة وكاتبة بمكتبة روايتي وعضوة بفريق التصميم والترجمة و الافلام والسينما ومعطاء التسالي ونجمة الحصريات الفنية ومميز بالقسم الطبى

 
الصورة الرمزية Dalyia

? العضوٌ??? » 130321
?  التسِجيلٌ » Jul 2010
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?  نُقآطِيْ » Dalyia has a reputation beyond reputeDalyia has a reputation beyond reputeDalyia has a reputation beyond reputeDalyia has a reputation beyond reputeDalyia has a reputation beyond reputeDalyia has a reputation beyond reputeDalyia has a reputation beyond reputeDalyia has a reputation beyond reputeDalyia has a reputation beyond reputeDalyia has a reputation beyond reputeDalyia has a reputation beyond repute
¬» مشروبك   pepsi
¬» قناتك mbc4
?? ??? ~
My Mms ~
افتراضي

CHAPTER SIX

THEY KNEW HIM, PARKER NOTED, WHEN A COUPLE OF THE STAFF called him by name.The pizzeria may have been small and on the shabby side, but the scents circulating in the air from the open kitchen and the jammed tables told her Malcolm knew his pizza.

They squeezed into a table preset with paper placemats depicting Italian landmarks.

“You want to steer clear of the Chianti,” Malcolm told her, “but you can get a pretty decent carafe of Cab.”

“That’ll work.”

A waitress bopped over. She had improbable red spiky hair and a nose as perky as her breasts. She might have been just old enough to order the Cab for herself.

“Hey, Mal!”

“How’s it going, Kaylee?”

“Oh, you know.” She slid her gaze toward Parker, and away again, but the glance lasted just long enough to show Parker the disappointment and miff. “Get you a drink?”

“The lady’ll have the Cab. You can bring me a Coke. Luigi’s tossing tonight?”

“You got it.You want your usual?”

“We’ll think about it.”

“Okay. I’ll get your drinks.”

Parker cocked an eyebrow as the girl walked off. “She’s got a crush on you.”

He leaned back, leather jacket open, a day’s scruff on his face, green eyes lit with cocky humor. “What can I say? Women flock to me.”

“She’d like to break the carafe of Cab over my head.”

“Maybe.” He leaned forward again.“She’s seventeen, just started her first year at community college. She wants to be a fashion designer. Or a songwriter. Or.”

“There should always be ors at seventeen. And crushes on older men.”

“Did you have one?”

She shook her head, not in denial but amusement. “No wine for you?”

“I made a deal with my mother, back when I was about a year younger than Kaylee. For every beer or its like I drank, I had to wait an hour once I finished it before I got behind the wheel.”

“You drank beer at sixteen?”

“If I could get it, sure. And knowing there was the possibility, she laid down the law. If I wanted the wheels, I had to make the deal.”

“A lot of teenagers make deals they don’t keep, or intend to keep.”

“In my world if you make a deal, you keep the deal.”

She believed him, and appreciated it, as that had been true in her world as well. “And now that you provide your own wheels?”

“Doesn’t apply. A deal’s a deal for the duration.”

“Did you decide what you want to order?” Kaylee set the Coke in front of Malcolm, and managed to place the carafe and wineglass in front of Parker without making eye contact.

“Not yet.” He started to pull one of the laminated menus out of its holder.

“What’s your usual?” Parker asked.

“Pepperoni, black olives, hot peppers.”

“Sounds good.”

“Okay. Have Luigi toss us a large, will you, Kaylee?”

“Sure, Mal. We’ve got those zucchini fritters you like tonight, if you want a starter.”

“That’d be great.We’ll share an order.”

Parker waited until the girl walked away. “Does she get her heart broken every time you come in here with a woman?”

“I don’t generally bring women here. I tend to go for something a little more on the quiet side on a date.”

“This isn’t a date,” she reminded him. “It’s a deal.”

“Right.” He reached over for the carafe, poured her a glass.

She sipped the wine, nodded approval. “It’s good, and hopefully contains no arsenic. So.Your father was military.”

“Yeah. I was an army brat until I was eight, and he was killed in El Salvador.”

“It’s hard to lose a parent, and so young.”

His eyes met hers in a moment of shared loss. “Hard anytime, I’d say.”

“Yes, anytime.Your mother moved back here, to Greenwich.”

“You get a pension, a flag, and some medals. They do what they can do, but she had to work. Her brother has a restaurant.You probably know that.”

“Some. I don’t know your uncle or his wife particularly well.”

“You’re not missing much, from my point of view. He worked her like a dog, and she was supposed to be grateful for the roof he put over our heads. And she was. She . . .”

When he trailed off, Parker gave him a moment of silence. “How’s your mother doing on the computer?”

“Coming along. Thanks, Kaylee,” he added when the girl set the appetizer and two small plates on the table.

“Luigi says to say hi before you go.”

“Will do.”

“The first time I met your mother,” Parker continued,“she was cursing the computer, and not very happy with you for making her use one.”

“That was before she figured out how to play computer Scrabble. She just bought a laptop so she can play at home.”

Parker sampled the zucchini. “These are good.” She took another bite. “Excellent, in fact.”

“It’s a little low-market for your clients,” Malcolm commented when she scanned the restaurant.

“Not necessarily. It could be a fun, casual location for a smaller, more laid-back rehearsal dinner.Also a nice suggestion for out-of-town wedding guests looking for local flavor and good, casual food. Family owned is always a nice touch.”

“How do you know it’s family owned?”

“It has that feel, plus it says so right on the front of the menu.”

“Talk to Luigi. He owns the place.”

“I might do that. So, how did you go from doing stunt work in LA to owning a garage in Greenwich?”

“Is this small talk, or are you interested?”

“It can be both.”

“Okay. A gag went south, messed me up. Some bean counter cut corners, and the equipment was faulty, so they paid me off.”

“How messed up?”

“Broke a lot of bones, bruised a few organs, sliced some skin.” He shrugged, but Parker didn’t buy it had been that simple, that casual.

“It sounds serious. How long were you in the hospital?”

“Put me out for a while,” he continued in that same careless tone. “By the time I got back on my feet, the lawyers had duked it out. I had a nice chunk of change, and decided I’d had enough of jumping off buildings and crashing into walls. I had enough for my own place, and that was always the goal anyway.”

“And you don’t miss it? Hollywood, the movie business?”

He gestured with a zucchini before eating it. “It ain’t what it looks like in your neighborhood cineplex, Legs.”

“No, I don’t suppose it is.And I wish you wouldn’t call me that.”

“Can’t help it. Got planted in my head that day you and Emma played soccer at her parents’ big bash.”

“Cinco de Mayo. I have a perfectly good name.”

“It’s Spider-Man’s name.”

She smothered a laugh. “His name’s Peter.”

“Stranger that it’s Spider-Man’s last name. I worked on those movies.”

“You worked with Tobey Maguire on the Spider-Man movies? What was . . .” She narrowed her eyes. “I bet you use that sort of connection to score with women all the time.”



Dalyia غير متواجد حالياً  
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قديم 09-02-11, 01:55 AM   #13

Dalyia

إدارية ومشرفة سابقة وكاتبة بمكتبة روايتي وعضوة بفريق التصميم والترجمة و الافلام والسينما ومعطاء التسالي ونجمة الحصريات الفنية ومميز بالقسم الطبى

 
الصورة الرمزية Dalyia

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¬» قناتك mbc4
?? ??? ~
My Mms ~
افتراضي

“It’s an angle.” He smiled as Kaylee set the pizza on its holder.

“Anything else I can get you?”

“We’re good, Kaylee.Thanks.”

“The zucchini was wonderful,” Parker told her and got a quick shoulder jerk.

“I’ll let them know you liked it.”

“She’ll always hate me.” Parker sighed. “So the pizza better be worth the harsh thoughts that must be clouding my aura.”

“The hot peppers’ll clear that aura right out.”

“We’ll see about that. Have you always been interested in cars and mechanics?”

“Like I said, I like knowing how things work.The next step is keeping them working. Have you always been interested in weddings?”

“Yes. I liked everything about them. So the next step is helping create them.”

“Which involves being on call pretty much around the clock.”

“It can. And you don’t want to talk about weddings.”

“You don’t want to talk about cars.” He lifted a slice, slid it onto her plate.

“No, but I’m always interested in business. Let’s try something else.You mentioned you lived in Florida.Where else?”

“Japan, Germany, Colorado.”

“Really?”

“I don’t remember Japan, and I’m fuzzy on Germany.” He took a slice for himself.“The first place I really remember is Colorado Springs.The mountains, the snow. We were there for a couple of years, but I always remember the snow. The way I always remember the smell of that bush outside my window in Florida.”

He took a bite of pizza, angled his head.“Are you going to try it or not?”

Judging it cool enough not to singe the roof of her mouth, she sampled. Nodded.“It’s fabulous. Really.” She took another testing bite. “But I have to give Mrs. G’s the edge, and consider this the second-best pizza in Connecticut.”

“Looks like I have to talk Mrs. Grady out of a slice of pie to see if you’re being honest or stubborn.”

“I can be both, depending on mood and circumstances.”

“Let’s try out the mood and circumstances on honest. Why’d you come out with me?”

“We made a deal.”

He shook his head, studying her over his slice. “Might be a factor, but it’s not why.”

She considered, took a sip of wine. “You irritated me.”

“And you go out with guys who irritate you?”

“I did this time. And you made it a kind of dare, which pushed the next button. Lastly, I was curious.Those are the various factors that make up the whole, and the reason why I’m sitting here enjoying this very superior pizza instead of—Oh hell.” She yanked out her ringing phone.

“Go ahead.We can get back to it.”

“I hate people who talk on cell phones in restaurants. I’ll be right back.” She scooted out, snaked her way through the door. “Hi, Justine, give me one minute.”

He didn’t mind watching her walk away, he decided as he topped off her wine.The jeans were a damn good fit.

Kaylee set another Coke in front of him, whisked the other away.“You looked like you needed a refill.”

“Good timing. How are you liking college?”

“It’s okay. I really like my art class.Anyway, who’s your friend?”

“Her name’s Parker.”

“Is she a doctor or a cop?”

“No.Where’d that come from?”

“My dad says the only people who should answer cell phones in a restaurant are doctors and cops.”

He glanced at the cell phone peeking out of her apron pocket. “How many texts have you sent on that tonight?”

Kaylee flashed a smile. “Who counts? I guess she’s pretty.”

“You’d guess right. Any more trouble with your carburetor?”

“No.Whatever you did worked. It’s running great. But it’s still a million years old and puke green.”

“It’s five years old,” he corrected. “But it is puke green. If you can talk your dad into it, I know a guy who’ll give you a good deal on a paint job.”

“Yeah?” She brightened. “I’ll start working on him. Maybe you could—” She broke off, lost her glow. “Your friend’s coming back in.”

Kaylee turned back toward the kitchen. Not quite a stalk, Malcolm noted, but close. Amused, he gave his attention to Parker as she sat back down. “Chiffon? A tango emergency? Somebody want to ride into the wedding on a camel?”

“I talked a groom out of a chariot once, and it wasn’t easy. I could deflect a camel. Actually, one of our October brides just learned her father’s in Vegas, where he eloped with the gold-digging bimbo bitch—her phrase—he left her mother for.”

“Happens.”

“Yes.The divorce became final just this week, so he didn’t waste any time.Which also happens.The new bride is twenty-four, two years younger than the daughter.”

“Adds an ouch to the equation.”

“It certainly does, and it also happens,” Parker put in.“But add up all those ‘it happens,’ and it’s tough to swallow.”

“Sure. And still probably tougher on the first wife than the daughter.”Though she hadn’t finished the first slice, he slid a second onto Parker’s plate. “What did she want you to do about it?”

“She doesn’t want either of them at the wedding, doesn’t want him giving her away, as planned. She’d been prepared to tolerate the aforementioned gold-digging bimbo bitch as her father’s guest, but she’ll be damned if she’ll have her there as his wife, her—too bad a word to say in public—stepmother, or lording her new status over the bride’s still-devastated mama.”

“I’ve got to give her points on all of that.”

“Yes, she’s perfectly justified, and if that’s the way she really wants it to be, that’s the way we’ll make it be.” She washed down pizza with wine.“The problem is, she loves her father. Despite his questionable judgment and the distinct possibility he’s suffering from male midlife insanity—”

“Hey, we’re not the only ones who get it.”

“You get it more often and generally with more severe symptoms. Despite,” she repeated, “she loves him, and I’m afraid not having him walk her down the aisle will mar the day for her more than the GBB, and when she forgives him, and she will, down the road she’ll always regret the decision.”

“Is that what you told her?”

“I told her the day is hers, hers and David’s, and whatever she wants or doesn’t want, we’ll work it out. And I asked her to take a day or two to be sure.”

“You think she’ll opt for Dad.”

“I do, and if I’m right, I’ll follow up with a private and very pointed chat with the GBB regarding protocol and behavior at a Vows event.”

“You’ll scare the shit out of her.”

“I’ll do no such thing,” Parker said, with a small smile.

“And you’ll enjoy it.”

She took a deliberately delicate bite of pizza. “That would be petty, and unattractive.”

“Every minute of it.”

She laughed. “Yes, I will.”

“It gives us a little more common ground.”

“How’s that?”

“I figure if you’ve got to take someone down or set them straight, you might as well enjoy it on some level. I heard you took Mac’s weird mother down a while back.”

“And I don’t consider feeling a lot of satisfaction from it petty or unattractive. She had it coming. How did you hear about that?”

“Guys talk, too. Del’s got a sweet spot for his Macadamia, and having her screwed with by her mother burned his ass. Plus, I’d handled her not that long before, so I knew some of the score.”

“That’s right, when Mac had her car towed.” She sighed happily. “Good times. So, I imagine Linda was very annoyed when she came into your garage to get it back.”

“That’s one way to put it.”

She nibbled more pizza, eyeing him. Then shook her head. “Okay, dish it out. All I heard was you told her she couldn’t have the car until she paid the towing and storage fee, and she went on one of her rants.”

“That’s about it. She’s got a hell of a rant. She tried to dump it all on Mac, but that didn’t play for me, especially since I had some of the background from Ma.”

“Your mother knows Linda?”

“Knew plenty about her, and my mother’s a solid data source. Even without it, I’d’ve gotten the picture pretty quick. Still, bottom line, I towed the car, I get paid.” He gestured with his Coke. “She moved from rant to wheedle.You know, couldn’t I please help her out, do her this little favor. But the best part of the show was when she offered to pay the charges with personal services.”

“She . . . Oh God.”

“First time I’ve been offered a blow job for a towing fee.”

Stunned speechless, Parker only stared at him.

“You asked.”

“Yeah, I did. Even if Mac ever does, don’t tell her that part.”

“She already asked, and I didn’t. Why would I? Her mother embarrassed herself.That’s got nothing to do with Mac.”

“No, it doesn’t, but a lot of people don’t see it that clearly.” He did, she realized. For whatever reason, he saw it with absolute clarity. “She’s taken a lot of hits over the years for Linda’s actions. Linda will ruin or at least take some shine off Mac’s wedding if she can.”

“She won’t.” He shrugged and ate.“What Mac doesn’t handle, Carter will.What they don’t, you will.”

“I’m going to remember that the next time I wake up from a Linda nightmare. Did you tell Del about . . . Linda’s offer?”

“Sure. A guy gets that kind of offer, he’s got a right to brag about it to his friends.”

“You’re a very strange species.”

“Back at you, Legs.”

The entire experience—the word helped her put the evening in perspective—turned out to be a great deal easier and more enjoyable than she’d expected. But then, she admitted, her expectations had been dead low.

It would, certainly, be more pleasant having a friendly relationship with him, as a friend of Del’s. Like she had with Jack.

Then again, she didn’t have this underlying and stubborn spark of attraction to Jack.

Still, a spark could be managed until it flickered out. Especially since the spark was very likely a reflexive response to a very attractive man who clearly showed interest, when she hadn’t had the time or inclination for male company in quite a while.

She worked out the practicalities in her head as they walked back to his bike.

She strapped on the helmet and straddled the bike behind him.

And discovered, the moment they’d woven their way out of town, riding at night was a whole different thrill.

A whole new sense of freedom washed over her. The single headlight slicing down the dark road, the canopy of stars and moon overhead, and the sparkle of them on the black plate of water.

Side by side with the thrill rode a sense of ease, of clearing out all those details that crowded her mind. She liked the crowd, she thought, even fed off it. But it had been too long since she’d just emptied out and recharged.

Who knew that an evening with Malcolm would push that lever?

Reality waited, and she valued her reality, but he’d given her a respite, a little adventure, and a very pleasant break from routine.

When they zipped down the long, curving drive to her house, she felt refreshed, content, and very friendly toward Malcolm Kavanaugh.

And when he cut the engine, silence rushed in, another lovely sensation. She swung off, pleased with how natural the move had become, and unstrapped her helmet.

She handed it to him, then laughed. “I have to say, that’s the easiest hundred I’ve ever won.”

“Same goes.” He walked her to the entrance portico. “So you enjoyed yourself.”

“I did.Thank you for—”

With her back against the door and his mouth feasting on hers, the rest of the words tumbled out of her brain.That hard, compelling body pressed to hers as he took her hands, held them in his at her sides, as his teeth incited wild thrills with hungry nips and bites.

Trapped, she should have objected, refused, but the sensation of helplessness, a touch of panicked excitement, of being carried off, simply dropped the ground away from under her feet.

She fell, without any attempt to catch herself, and answered the assault with equal fervor and a reckless greed.

The kick of her own heart shocked her back—or nearly.

“Wait,” she managed.

“Just give me another minute.”

He wanted more; he took more. And so did she.

It was that simmering, smoldering heat inside the cool package that had caught him from the jump. Now, as it hit boil, he was happy to have it burn him down to the bone.

He held her hands to prevent his own from streaking over that gorgeous body, to make sure he didn’t lose control and use them to pull off those classy clothes and get to skin.

When he felt that control begin to fray he lifted his head, but he didn’t let her go, didn’t step back.

“That ought to demonstrate I won’t be backing off.”

“I never said—”

“We made a deal.”

“That doesn’t mean you can . . .” She paused, and he watched her gather herself, steady herself.

Jesus, he admired that.

“That doesn’t mean you can just grab me anytime you want, or put your hands all over me when the urge hits.”

“Didn’t grab you,” he pointed out. “And didn’t put my hands all over you.” He gave the hands he still held a squeeze to remind her. “Thought about it though.”

“Regardless, I’m not going to—Would you please give me some room?”

“Sure.” Now he let go of her hands, stepped back.

“I’m not going to tolerate this kind of behavior.You can’t just push yourself on me whenever you like.”

“I might’ve pushed a little. So guilty.” In the dark his eyes gleamed like a cat—one on the hunt.“But, honey, you were right in there with me, and I figure you’ve got the spine to admit it.”



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قديم 09-02-11, 01:55 AM   #14

Dalyia

إدارية ومشرفة سابقة وكاتبة بمكتبة روايتي وعضوة بفريق التصميم والترجمة و الافلام والسينما ومعطاء التسالي ونجمة الحصريات الفنية ومميز بالقسم الطبى

 
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She said nothing for a moment. “All right, that part may be true. But just because I have a physical reaction to you doesn’t mean . . . What are you smiling at?”

“You. I just really like the way you talk, especially when you’re riding the high horse.”

“Damn it, you’re frustrating.”

“I probably am. I was going to say I have some kind of thing for you, and want to figure out how it works. But we can go with physical reaction if you like that better.”

“You better understand I take relationships seriously, so if you think I’m just going to jump into bed because—”

“I didn’t ask you to bed.”

He watched her eyes smolder and had to order himself not to press her right back against the door again.

“You’re going to stand there and tell me that’s not what you want, not what you intend?”

“Sure, I want you in bed—or any place that’s handy—and I intend to have you. But I’m not in a hurry.You jump in? It takes off the edge, and I like the edge. Plus, it’s hard to figure out how something works if you’re busy just banging.”

It was completely honest, and so damn logical she faltered. “This is a ridiculous conversation.”

“It seems sensible and civilized to me. That’s right up your alley. Do you want me to say I think about peeling you out of one of those fancy suits of yours, finding out what’s under it? Getting my hands on what is? About feeling you move under me and over me, and being inside you, watching your face when you let go? When I make you let go?

“I do, Parker. But I’m not in a hurry.”

“I’m not looking for this—you—this.”

“Everybody looks for this.You’re not looking, or you weren’t looking for this with me. I get that loud and clear. But I’m not backing off. Because it’s a solid fact we’ve got a thing, sorry, a physical reaction. And if you didn’t want me to make any moves on it, you’d have shut me down, taken me down. Maybe even enjoyed doing it.”

“You don’t know me as well as you seem to think.”

He shook his head. “Legs, I’ve only scratched the surface, and I’m coming back for more.”

The argument was—not really an argument, she realized, and whatever it was, she was losing it. “I’m going in.”

“Then I’ll see you around.”

She turned her back, half expecting him to move in again. But when she opened the door, he simply stood back in what she’d have called a gentlemanly manner if she hadn’t known better, until she stepped inside, closed the door.

She stood there a moment, trying to regain the equilibrium he’d managed to shatter. She heard the engine kick on, rip through the quiet.

Which was, she realized, exactly what he’d done. He’d ripped through her quiet.

Everything he’d said was true.

More, he understood her pretty damn well with that scratch of the surface of his. That was . . . frightening and gratifying at the same time.

Nobody, she admitted as she started upstairs, nobody she didn’t consider family knew her all the way through.

She wasn’t at all sure how she felt about Malcolm getting all the way through, and wasn’t at all sure she’d be able to stop him.

Mostly, she thought, she didn’t know what the hell to do about him.




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قديم 09-02-11, 01:57 AM   #15

Dalyia

إدارية ومشرفة سابقة وكاتبة بمكتبة روايتي وعضوة بفريق التصميم والترجمة و الافلام والسينما ومعطاء التسالي ونجمة الحصريات الفنية ومميز بالقسم الطبى

 
الصورة الرمزية Dalyia

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CHAPTER SEVEN

ALTHOUGH IT HAD BECOME TRADITION, PARKER WOULD HAVE PREFERRED to skip the sexy breakfast story. But motorcycles had a distinct sound, one Mac had heard clearly while she and Carter had been enjoying some time on their new patio when Parker had ridden off on Malcolm’s bike.

Mac may have dragged herself into the home gym when Parker was nearly finished and Laurel well on her way, but she had more than her biceps on her mind.

And she’d dragged Emma along with her.

“I asked Mrs. G for pancakes,” Mac announced. “I especially like pancakes with a sexy breakfast story.”

“Who’s got one?” Laurel demanded.

“Parker.”

“Wait a minute.” Laurel whipped around to where Parker stayed a bit longer than necessary in forward fold position. “You have a SBS, and didn’t tell me?”

“It’s nothing. Plus we’re jammed for the next several days.”

“If it’s nothing, where did you and Malcolm go on his bike last night for almost three hours? No, don’t tell us now.” Mac only smiled, gave an exaggerated wave when Parker straightened. “We need the pancakes.”

“I don’t monitor your comings and goings, Mackensie.”

“Oh, don’t pull Mackensie on me.” Mac waved that off, too, and started biceps curls with the Bowflex. “Carter and I heard Mal drive in, and I saw you leave because I was outside. So yeah, I kept an ear out for you after.You’d have done exactly the same.”

“Did you have a fight with him?” Emma asked. “Are you upset?”

“No, I’m not upset.”After dabbing her damp face with a towel, Parker walked over to drop it in the hamper. “I just don’t have time for pancakes and gossip.”

“Unless it’s one of us in the spotlight?” Laurel cocked her head. “We share, Parker. It’s what we do. If you’re pulling back from that about this, it tells me you’ve got concerns about where it’s heading.”

“It’s not that at all.” Yes, it was, she admitted.Yes, it was exactly that.“Fine. Fine.We’ll have the pancakes and the rest, but I have a lot of work—we all do—so we’ll keep it short.”

When she walked out of the room, annoyance in every stride, Emma looked at the others. “Should I go talk to her?”

“You know she has to stew.” Laurel grabbed a towel, swiped her face, her throat. “She’s a little pissed, but she’ll get over it.”

“You’re right about her being unsettled over this thing with Mal.” Mac moved from biceps curls to triceps kickbacks.“If it was no big, she’d have told us, or laughed it off when I brought it up. When’s the last time Parker was unsettled over a guy?”

“That would be over nobody back in never,” Laurel stated.

“That would be the who and when. Good thing or bad?”

“Good, I think.” Since she was there, Emma ordered herself onto the elliptical. “He’s nothing like her usual, which would be part of the unsettled, and there’s nothing that would have gotten her to go out with him if she didn’t want to on some level. Plus, Mac said she was wearing jeans and that really cute chocolate brown leather jacket. So she changed her clothes to go with him.”

“I wasn’t spying,” Mac said quickly. “I just saw. I mostly just saw.”

“Who’s saying otherwise?” Laurel flicked it away. “If I’d heard her go off with him, I’d have done the same. Jesus, it’s a good thing Del doesn’t know. And let’s just keep it that way until we get a better sense of this. I don’t want him getting worked up over Mal and Parker the way he did Emma and Jack. Now I’ve got to go shower, and praise Jesus, he had an early breakfast meeting. See you downstairs.”

“I thought she’d get a kick out of it,” Mac told Emma when they were alone. “I didn’t want to upset her.”

“It’s not your fault. Laurel’s right, it’s what we do.”

IT’S WHAT THEY DID, PARKER REMINDED HERSELF. BY THE TIME she’d showered and dressed for the day, annoyance had tipped over into guilt for snapping back at her friends.

She’d made too much of it all.And she’d internalized the entire business, something she admitted she tended to do too easily and too often.

So they’d have their tradition, just as they should. They’d have a few laughs, and that would be that.

When she walked into the kitchen, Mrs. Grady stood at the counter mixing the batter.

“Good morning, my girl Parker.”

“’Morning, Mrs. G. I hear we’re having pancakes.”

“Mmm-hmm.” Mrs. Grady waited until Parker poured a cup of coffee. “So, will you be getting a tattoo next?”

“What?”

“Seems like the next step after riding the roads on a Harley.”

Parker didn’t have to see Mrs. Grady’s tongue to know it was firmly in her cheek. “I thought, given what I do, maybe a small heart in a discreet location. Maybe with HEA inside it, for Happy Ever After.”

“Very pretty, and appropriate.” She set the batter aside while she prepared a bowl of berries.“We may bump heads over the boy, as he’s brought me flowers and asked me out to go dancing.”

“You’re enjoying this.”

“Of course. He reminds me of someone.”

“Oh?” Parker leaned on the counter. “Who?”

“I knew a boy with some rough edges, altogether cocksure of himself, and a gilded tongue when he wanted to use it. Handsome as sin and twice as sexy. When he set his eye and his intentions toward a woman, by God, she knew it. I was lucky. I married him.”

“Oh, Mrs. G, he’s not . . . Is he really like your Charlie?”

“He’s of the type, which isn’t a type at all. Pulled himself out of hard times, dealt with the scars from it, pushed himself to make a mark. A little bit of the wild side there, always.With my Charlie, I told myself, oh no, I won’t get tangled up with this one. And I said it again, even when I was already tangled up.”

The smile warmed her face and went deep into her eyes. “It’s hard to resist a bad boy who’s a good man.They’ll knock the legs right out from under you. I’m grateful every day, however short our time together was, that I didn’t resist very long.”

“It’s not like that with me and Mal. It’s just . . .” And that, Parker admitted, was part of the problem. She didn’t know what it was.

“Whatever it is, you deserve the attention, and to enjoy yourself more than you do. Aside from this.” Mrs. Grady laid her hands on Parker’s cheeks, patted them. “Which I know you enjoy every minute of. But aside from this.”

“I don’t want to enjoy myself into making a mistake.”

“Oh, I wish you would.” On that, she drew Parker closer and kissed her forehead. “I really wish you would. Go on, sit down and drink your coffee. What you need is a good breakfast and your friends.”

Maybe she did, Parker admitted. But after she sat, she took a call from one of the weekend’s nervous brides. Since it was second nature to handle someone else’s worries or problems, dealing with it settled her.

“Emma and Mac’ll be right down,” Laurel announced as she came in. “Need any help, Mrs. G?”

“Under control.”

“Hey, nice flowers.”

“My boyfriend sent them to me.” She added a wink.“The one Parker’s trying to steal away from me.”

“That slut.” Amused, Laurel got her coffee and walked to the breakfast nook to sit. “After our initial business, we can shift to event mode. We could have the meeting here, as I know damn well you have everything to do with tonight’s event on your BlackBerry. It’ll save the time you’re worried about.”

“All right. I shouldn’t have slapped at Mac.”

“Knee jerk. I probably would’ve done the same, only more so.”

“But we expect bitchiness from you.”

“Nice hit.” Laughing, she pointed at Parker.“I’m not going to say anything to Del for the moment, but—”

“There’s nothing to tell. As you’ll soon see once everyone’s here.”

“And here they come. Prepare to illuminate.”

“I’m sorry,” Parker said even as Mac sat down.

“Water. Bridge. Bygones.”

“Eat some fruit,” Mrs. Grady insisted, and set the bowl on the table.

“I made too big a deal about it.” Obediently Parker spooned berries into the small clear dish at her plate. “With all of you, and with myself. It’s just all so strange, and that’s why. And still, pretty straightforward.”

“Why don’t you tell us, and we’ll decide the strange,” Laurel suggested. “Because by stalling, you’re making that big deal.”

“All right, all right. He came by to bring Mrs. G flowers.”

“Awww” was Emma’s instant reaction.

“Since she wasn’t here, it seemed awkward not to ask him in while I arranged them, and he could leave her a note. Anyway, I wanted to make it clear I wasn’t interested.”

“You asked him in to tell him you didn’t want to see him?” Mac put in.

“Yes. He’s got this habit of . . . moving on me, and I wanted to make it clear—and all right again, I didn’t end the move the other night when—”

“The hot kiss,” Emma put in.

“It wasn’t—” Yes, it was, Parker admitted.“After he had dinner here, and I walked him out, he caught me off guard, and I responded. That’s all there is. I’m human. But, particularly since he’s a good friend of Del’s, I felt I had to make it clear I wasn’t interested.”

“Did he buy that? Mmm, thanks, Mrs. G.” Mac dove for the platter of pancakes Mrs. Grady put on the table.“Because if he did, my opinion of his basic intelligence drops several levels.”

“Apparently he didn’t, because he proposed this deal. I’d go out for a ride, a casual dinner, and if I didn’t enjoy myself, he’d back off.”

“And you agreed?” Laurel grabbed the syrup. “You didn’t squash him like a bug or level him with the Parker Brown freeze ray?”

Parker lifted her coffee, took a slow sip. “Do you want me to tell this or not?”

“Proceed,” Laurel said with a wave of her hand.

“I agreed because it seemed simple, and yes, because I was a little curious. He’s Del’s friend, and there’s no point in having bad feelings. I’d go, then he’d back off. No hard feelings either way. Then when we got outside, he told me about the bet.”

“What bet?” Emma demanded.

Parker filled them in.

“Carter bet?” Mac threw back her head and laughed. “And on Mal? I love it.”

“I love it that he told you before you got on the bike.” Emma shook her fork.“He had to know it gave you an excuse to flip him off.”

“And I give him that. And he’ll give me, at my insistence, half his winnings. Fair’s fair.”

“Where’d you go?” Emma wondered.

“Into Old Greenwich, some little pizza joint. Nice, actually. And I won’t deny it’s fun to ride the bike—it’s great fun—or claim it was a painful experience to split a pizza with him. He’s an interesting man.”

“How many calls did you take while you were out?” Laurel asked her.

“Four.”

“And how did he take that?”

“Like business is business and go ahead. And yes, points for him. But the thing is we had a perfectly pleasant evening, then the minute we’re back and at the door, he . . .”

Emma wiggled in her seat. “Here comes the really sexy part.”

“He just takes over. He has this way of cornering me, and my brain shuts off. He’s good at it, and my brain just closes down. It’s reflex,” she claimed. “Or reaction.”

“Is he all hot and fast, or slow and easy?” Mac asked.

“I’m unaware if he has a slow speed.”

“Told you.” Mac elbowed Emma.

“After my brain started working again, I told him I wasn’t having it, that he couldn’t just grab and go whenever he wanted. And he just looked amused. Pretty much like the three of you—and you, too, Mrs. G, because I see you over there—are looking now.”

“Kissed him back, didn’t you?” Mrs. Grady pointed out.

“Yes, but—”

“So even if he hadn’t knocked your legs out from under you, you wouldn’t have one to stand on.”

She wanted to sulk, badly. So she shrugged instead. “It’s just a physical reaction.”

“I don’t know about that,” Laurel began, “but if it is, I have to say, so what?”

“I’m not going to get tangled . . .” She remembered Mrs. Grady’s phrase, cut her eyes in that direction and saw the housekeeper raise her eyebrows.“I’m not going to get involved this way with someone when I feel it could be a mistake. Especially when he’s a friend of Del’s, of Jack’s, of Carter’s. Especially when I really don’t know him well, or know that much about him.”

“Isn’t dating someone part of the process of finding out about him?” Emma reached over, laid a hand on Parker’s. “You’re interested, Parker. It’s all over you.You’re attracted. And you’re nervous about it.”

“You had fun with him, Parks.” Mac lifted her hands. “Why not have some fun?”

“He’s immune to your Back-Off Cloak, and your freeze ray. He doesn’t act or react in a way you can predict or control.” Laurel gave Parker’s leg a pat under the table. “So you want a reason to say no.”

“I’m not that shallow.”

“Not shallow. Nervous about letting him get too close because he could matter more than you bargained for. I think he already does.”

“I just don’t know. And I don’t like not knowing.”

“Then take a little time,” Emma said, “and find out.”

“I’ll think about it. I will.” How could she not, Parker admitted? “And that’s all there is of this morning’s sexy breakfast story. I appreciate everything, I really do, but we have to switch modes. We’re already running behind with the meeting.We have an event to prep for.”

MAL INSTALLED NEW MOTOR MOUNTS ON A HONEY OF A ’62 T-BIRD Sports Roadster. At the customer’s directive, he’d all but rebuilt the engine, and when the job was done, all 390 cubic inches would growl down the road like a big sleek cat. He’d already replaced the brake pads, fixed the cooling system, and refined the three two-barrel Holley carburetors.

By his calculations, in a few hours he’d be taking this big bastard for a test drive.

“That’s a beauty.”

He pulled his head from under the hood to see Del, lawyer-suited-up, inside the cavern of the garage.

“She is that. Sixty-two, M-Code,” Mal added, “bullet sleek. One of about two hundred sold back in the day.”

“Really?”

“Bitch was pricey. Customer bought this at an auction, had it restored. Rangoon Red exterior, two-toned red and white in.White-walls, wire wheels. He got a clue after he’d had the exterior and interiors restored that the reason it might be giving him some trouble on the road was the hundred-twelve original miles on the engine.”

“And that’s where you came in.”

“We fix.Take a look.”

“Sure, as long as I’m not required to know what I’m looking at, or half of what you’re talking about.”

“This baby has the chrome dress-up package.”

Del looked in, saw a big engine, a lot of black, some gleaming chrome, and various parts stamped with Thunderbird. Because he knew his job, he nodded. “So, what’ll she do?”

“When I’m finished? Just about anything you want her to except kiss you good night.” Mal pulled the bandanna out of his back pocket, wiped his hands. “Are you having trouble with the Mercedes?”

“No. I had a breakfast meeting in town, so I swung by after to drop off the papers you asked me to draw up. I can give you about ten minutes if you want to look over them now. Or I can leave them in your office, and you can read them when you’ve got a chance, call me with any questions.”

“I’ve got my hands full here, so I’ll read through them later. As long as I’m not required to know what I’m looking at, or half of what you’re talking about.”

“I’ll walk you through it whenever.”With a thoughtful frown, Del looked under the hood again.“Maybe one of these days you’ll walk me through an engine.”

Mal’s office consisted of a cubbyhole off the garage outfitted with a metal desk, a couple of filing cabinets, and a swivel chair. Del stepped in, took the file out of his briefcase, and set it on top of the inbox.

Mal stuck the rag back in his pocket. “We may want to take that ten minutes to talk about some personal business.”

“Sure.What’s up?”

“I took Parker out last night.”

After one slow take, Del shook his head. “You talked her back onto the bike? Did you have a gun?”

“We made a deal.We’d take a ride, grab some dinner, and when I dropped her back home, if she hadn’t had a good time, I’d back off.”

“So you—” A faster take this time. “Back off from what?”

“From her, and this thing we’ve got going.”

“What thing would that be?”

They shared that, Mal thought, the instant Brown frost. “You really want me to spell that out for you?”

“And when did this thing start?”

“For me? About two minutes after she first opened her mouth to me, and it’s been clicking up some levels since. For her? You’d have to ask her yourself. Since she did have a good time, and I won’t be backing off, I’m being up-front with you.”

“Just how far has this thing gone?”

Mal paused a moment. “You know, Del, I get how you are about Parker, about all of them. Switch the circumstances, I’d probably be the same, so I get it. But I’m not going there with you, not about Parker. If you want to ask her, that’s between the two of you. But I’ll say this, if you think I’m just after a quick score, you and me? We don’t know each other as well as either of us thought.”

“She’s my sister, goddamn it.”

“If she wasn’t, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. She’s also a beautiful, smart, interesting woman.And she’s nobody’s push-over. If and when she wants to shake me off, that’s what she’ll do.”

“And if she does?”

“I’ll be sorry, because, like that car, she’s a rare breed. Classy and powerful and fucking gorgeous. And worth a hell of a lot of time and trouble.”

Frustration radiating like sunlight, Del shoved his hand in his pocket. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to say about this.”

“Can’t tell you.” Mal shrugged. “By the way, you can pay her my hundred. After we made the deal, I figured I should be up-front with her, so I told her about the bet in case she wanted to get pissed off and flip me off.”

“Great. Perfect.”

“She didn’t get pissed. She just wanted a cut of the bet. Jesus, who wouldn’t go for a woman who thinks like that? Anyway, it seems fair her take comes from you. I’ll collect my share from Jack, and the two of you can settle it with Carter.”

“I don’t know if we’re square on this. I have to get my head around it. But I know this: If you screw with her, if you hurt her, I’ll kick your ass.”

“Got that. How about this? If I screw with her, if I hurt her, I’ll let you.”

“Son of a bitch. Read the damn papers.” Without another word, Del strode off.

Could’ve been worse, Mal considered. Del could’ve punched him in the face the way he had Jack over Emma. So, he figured he and Del were one up there.

He shrugged it off, then went back to work on the engine, on something he knew, absolutely, how to fix.




Dalyia غير متواجد حالياً  
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قديم 09-02-11, 01:57 AM   #16

Dalyia

إدارية ومشرفة سابقة وكاتبة بمكتبة روايتي وعضوة بفريق التصميم والترجمة و الافلام والسينما ومعطاء التسالي ونجمة الحصريات الفنية ومميز بالقسم الطبى

 
الصورة الرمزية Dalyia

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My Mms ~
افتراضي


KNOWING HER SCHEDULE, DEL MADE IT A POINT TO GET HOME early enough to corner his sister. She had rehearsals, and an event, which might have equaled an overfull plate for anyone else. But he knew damn well Parker routinely built in time for emergencies.

This, to his way of thinking, qualified.

He timed it strategically, arriving at the end of the first rehearsal, while Laurel was busy in her kitchen, Emma and her team already dressing the house for the arrival of the evening’s bridal party, and before the second rehearsal.

Mac, he knew, would be occupied with her camera.

He strolled up as Parker waved off the first clients and their party.

“You’re home early.”

“Yeah, I juggled some things so I could get back and give you all a hand.”

“We can use it. The next rehearsal’s in about fifteen minutes, and tonight’s bride and party are due in about thirty for hair and makeup.We’re on schedule, but—”

“Good, let’s take that fifteen.” He took her hand to stroll onto the lawn.

“Should I assume someone saw me with Malcolm last night, and reported to you?” She smoothed down the line of her suit jacket. “We know each other too well, Del.”

“I’d have thought. But then I wouldn’t have thought you’d be out doing an Easy Rider.”

“What does that even mean?”

“Look it up.”

“Fine. If you’re going to try a lecture on the risks of motorcycles, you have to first provide me with an affidavit stating you haven’t ridden on one or driven one within the last thirty-six months.”

Okay, he’d bench that argument. To buy a little more time, he took out his wallet, pulled out a hundred, and passed it to her.

“Thanks.” She folded it, tucked it into her pocket.

“Did you go out with him because of the bet?”

“I went out with him despite the bet.”

“Since all bets are off, are you planning to go out with him again?”

“He hasn’t asked me, and I haven’t decided.” She turned her head to give his face a long study. “Since you show no signs of being in a fight, and I imagine Malcolm can give as good as he gets, I have to assume no punches were thrown when he told you I knew about the bet.”

“I don’t make a habit of punching people. Jack was an exception,” he qualified before she could speak. “And Mal avoided that by telling me about . . . all this straight off.”

She paused. “He told you himself ?”

“And you didn’t.”

Considering Malcolm’s tact, she answered without thinking. “Del, are you really living with the illusion I tell you about every man I date?”

“So you and Mal are dating?”

“No. Maybe. I haven’t decided. Do I give you a cross-examination over everyone you date, or dated before you and Laurel? And if you say that’s different, I may punch you.”

“I’m trying to find a phrase that merely alludes to ‘that’s different.’” Because it got a snicker out of her, he took her hand as they walked. “Let’s back up to the point that none of the guys you’ve dated have been friends of mine. Good friends of mine.”

“True. And did I get in the middle when things changed between you and Laurel? My brother and one of my closest friends? And, no, Del, it’s still not different.”

“I’m not getting in the middle. I’m just circling the outer perimeter, trying to get a gauge of the ground.”

“I don’t know the ground yet. We went for a ride, had pizza, and . . .”

“And?”

“And completed the standard hat trick of dating with a kiss good night.”

“So you’re interested in him.”

“I’m not disinterested. It surprised me, but I’m not disinterested. I had a good time last night, and I didn’t expect to. I relaxed and enjoyed myself, and it’s been a long time since I’ve done that with a man. Just enjoyed myself. He might be your client, Del, or a casual acquaintance, but the fact that he’s your friend says you not only like him, but you trust and respect him. Is there any reason I shouldn’t?”

“No.” He sucked in air and scowled into the distance. “Damn it.”

“And the fact that he told you about this himself, it matters. I didn’t tell Laurel or any of the others until this morning. And I’m not sure I’d have done it then if Mac hadn’t heard the bike, and seen me ride off with Mal.That doesn’t speak as well of me.”

“You didn’t want to put them in the middle, an awkward place between you and me.”

“That was part of it—not the main, but part.” She paused, turning so they stood face-to-face. “Don’t put me in the middle, Del, between you and your friend. Please don’t make me a point of contention.”

“I won’t. Unless he screws it up. Then I’ll kick his ass. He already knows that. Actually, he agreed if he screwed it up, he’d let me kick his ass. And yeah,” Del admitted,“that speaks well of him, too, because I know him, and he meant it.”

She wrapped her arms around Del to hug. “I’m really good at taking care of myself, but it’s awfully nice to have a big brother I know will do it for me, whenever I need it.”

“Count on it.”

“I do. Now.” She drew back. “If you’re here to help, go find Emma. She’ll be the one most in need of extra hands. And here comes the next group.”

She left Del to cross toward the parking area to greet the first arrivals. It was odd, wasn’t it, she thought, that she’d barely acknowledged to herself she had a genuine interest in Malcolm Kavanaugh, yet she’d spent a good deal of her day talking about him.

And more, she admitted, thinking about him.




Dalyia غير متواجد حالياً  
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قديم 09-02-11, 01:58 AM   #17

Dalyia

إدارية ومشرفة سابقة وكاتبة بمكتبة روايتي وعضوة بفريق التصميم والترجمة و الافلام والسينما ومعطاء التسالي ونجمة الحصريات الفنية ومميز بالقسم الطبى

 
الصورة الرمزية Dalyia

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¬» مشروبك   pepsi
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?? ??? ~
My Mms ~
افتراضي

CHAPTER EIGHT

BEFORE HER PARTNERS JOINED HER FOR THE MORNING SUMMIT ON the day’s events, Parker got in a solid workout, showered, dressed for the long day, and reviewed the files.

The Friday night wedding had run like silk, requiring no more than the expected racing around, heading off potential glitches, and quick decisions behind the scenes.

And fortunately for all involved, Jaci said yes to Griff.

Today, with two events scheduled, the work more than doubled. Timing, always an essential ingredient, became absolutely vital, and included all the setting up for the late morning wedding with seventy-five guests, breaking it down, then redressing the stage for the evening’s job.

Emma and her team, Parker knew, had the bulk of the purely physical work, hauling flowers and material, dressing the exterior and the interior spaces—twice—with a complete breakdown between. Most of Laurel’s work—the cakes, the pastries, the chocolates— would be done before the first event, with only the setups needed. So she’d fill in where any holes widened, and work with the caterers.

Mac would have to be everywhere, before and during the events, and Mac and Parker would have the primary job of keeping the bride and groom happy and on schedule, reining in the wedding party, the parents.

She checked her own emergency kit: bandages, breath mints, aspirin, notepad and pencil, mini hairbrush, comb, nail file, wet naps, spot remover, lighter, eyeglass cleaner, and a Swiss Army knife that included a pair of scissors.

She had her second and last cup of coffee while reviewing her spreadsheet and highlighting any potential problem areas.And was set for the meeting when Laurel breezed in.

“I don’t want to make another woodland violet for a decade, but, baby, is that Wildflower Wedding Cake a beauty. Go, me.”

“Go, you. How’s the White Lace?”

“It’s—and I do say so myself—stunning.” Laurel poured coffee from the pot, added a small muffin. “Emma’s already dressing the entrance with her team. Our first event, the casual country deal, is going to be beautiful. She’ll head up as soon as she’s finished the front urns. She wants to do that herself.”

She plopped down. “So, did Mal call?”

“Why would he?”

“To talk to his Bitchin’ Biker Babe?”

“Aren’t you the cutest thing?”

“I am.” Laurel patted the hair she’d already scooped up and back for work. “I really am.Why don’t you call him?”

“Why would I?”

Obviously amused, Laurel leaned her elbow on the table, braced her chin in her hands. “Del thinks it’s weird, but he’s not inclined—yet—to beat Malcolm up.”

“Such restraint.”

“It is for Del when it comes to you. I could tell Del to tell Mal to call.”

“When do we graduate from high school again?”

“It’s fun.”

Parker shook her head.“It wasn’t even a date. A nondate and a couple of kisses.”

“Hot, steamy kisses.”

“Regardless,” Parker began, and Mac strolled in.

“’Morning, both. Did Mal call?”

“No. And could we all just—”

“You should call him. Maybe try the message machine conversations.” As Laurel had, Mac hit the coffee setup.“Carter and I had the best message machine conversations.We still do sometimes. Or e-mails. Emma and Jack did the sexy e-mailing.Your CrackBerry’s fused to your hand anyway, so it’d be easy.”

“I’ll keep that in mind for down the road to never. Now maybe we could, I don’t know, discuss the two major events we’re getting paid to orchestrate today?”

“You’re so strict.”

Emma raced in, a Diet Pepsi in one hand, her laptop in the other.“I feel like I’ve already run five miles this morning. Did—”

“No.” Parker didn’t snap it, but it was close. “Malcolm didn’t call. No, I’m not going to call him, leave a message on his machine, or e-mail him. Does that cover it?”

“You could take your car in for service. No, he just did that. You could take the van in,” Emma decided. “No, he did that a couple months ago, and boy, did I get a lecture. Maybe—”

“Maybe we could get to work.”

“She’s irritated he didn’t call,” Laurel said.

“I am not irritated he—”

“More irked.” Mac pursed her lips, considered. “That’s her irked tone.”

“If I’m irked, it’s with you.”

Ignoring her, Laurel shifted to Mac. “He’s probably one of those three-day-rule guys.”

“That’s such a stupid rule.”

“I know!” Emma settled in. “Who comes up with that stuff ?”

Mac popped some muffin in her mouth. “People like Parker.”

Parker waved a hand. “Just let me know when you’re all finished. No rush, no rush at all. We’ve just got a bride, her wedding party, the hair and makeup team arriving in sixty-five minutes. No worries.”

“Remember when she was dating that guy? The guy with the thing and the . . .” Mac skimmed her thumb and forefinger over her chin.

“That guy?” Laurel sniffed. “We didn’t like that guy.”

“He never looked you in the eye.” Emma gestured with her bottle.

“And he chortled.” Mac nodded wisely. “He’s the only guy I ever knew who actually chortled. I don’t think you can trust a chortler.”

In the way of forever friends, Parker knew exactly who they were talking about. She started to point out she’d only gone out with him a handful of times, then wisely—or stubbornly—said nothing.

“That’s so true,” Emma agreed. She gave Parker a smile. “And because we didn’t like him or trust him, we didn’t say much about him.To you.”

“Since we like Mal, we have a lot to say.”

As it made perfect sense to her, Parker only sighed.“Okay, but at this point there’s nothing to talk about. And there may never be. If there is, you’ll all be the first to know.”

“That’s fair.” Laurel glanced at her friends, got their nods. “Agreed.” She circled her hands in the air as if wiping a slate. “Open to work mode.”

“Excellent, as is the weather forecast for today. Mostly sunny, minimal chance of rain, light breezes, seasonal temps.The Gregory-Mansfield event this morning has no known danger zones or specific problems or entanglements to watch for.”

“Just the usuals then,” Laurel put in.

“Exactly. I spoke with the bride this morning, and she’s good. Reports that she and her mother had a good weepy chat last night, and got it out of their system.”

“I like her.” Emma sipped her soft drink. “We’re not required to like our brides, so it’s a bonus.”

“She’s been great to work with,” Parker agreed. “For the timetable.”

She ran through it, section by section, confirming her partners’ readiness, needs.

“The flowers are all charm, heavy on the woodland violets.”

“Don’t mention woodland violets.” Laurel rolled her shoulders. “I made over two hundred for the cake.”

“It’s woodland meadow all the way,” Emma continued. “The portico, Bride and Groom suites are finished, as is the foyer, staircase, and nearly all the interiors.We’re still on the rest of the exterior, and I need to get back to it soon. The flower carts we’ve designed are going to be awesome, and she’s going to love the mini watering cans filled with the flower I can’t mention on the tables at the reception.”

“I’ll get the arrival shots,” Mac added, “then stick with the bride and her party until I’m alerted the groom’s heading in. Get his arrival, and back to the bride for the candids during hair, makeup, dressing—shifting to the groom and party. I have some solid concepts for formal shots, exterior. Using Emma’s awesome flower carts.”

“The cake’s complete. No further assembly on that one. Emma and I can dress the cake and dessert tables during the brunch.”

“I think the breakdown, second setup will be today’s major challenge.” Parker skimmed the schedule. “It’s all in the timing.”

“Won’t be the first or the last.” Laurel shrugged.“The cake for the second event does need some on-site assembly, but we’re good there. Groom’s cake’s finished, the desserts nearly so. I need about an hour there, and I can steal that before the first event.”

“I’ve already talked to my team on the timing.” Emma blew out a breath.“We’ll work our asses off, but we’ll get it done.We’ll start on the Grand Hall as soon as the guests move to the Ballroom for dancing. All twelve bouquets are complete, as are the three—jeez, three—flower girls’ pomanders and halos. I can use any available pair of hands and or backs and legs. Jack and Del are pitching in, and Carter, too, when Mac doesn’t need him. We should be good.”

“Problem areas,” Parker began.“Henry, the FOG’s brother, really likes his vodka, and when he really gets a lot of what he likes he tends to pat and pinch and otherwise inappropriately touch female asses. I’ll be watching him, but can use more eyes throughout. MOB has a feud going with her own mother-in-law, one of long-standing. They have, I’m assured, issued a detente for today. But emotions and alcohol, as we know, often trump detentes.The SOB,” she continued, referring to the bride’s sister, “has been divorced for three years or so from the groom’s good friend who is one of the ushers. They did not part amicably, so there’s a second possible problem area.




Dalyia غير متواجد حالياً  
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قديم 09-02-11, 01:58 AM   #18

Dalyia

إدارية ومشرفة سابقة وكاتبة بمكتبة روايتي وعضوة بفريق التصميم والترجمة و الافلام والسينما ومعطاء التسالي ونجمة الحصريات الفنية ومميز بالقسم الطبى

 
الصورة الرمزية Dalyia

? العضوٌ??? » 130321
?  التسِجيلٌ » Jul 2010
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?  نُقآطِيْ » Dalyia has a reputation beyond reputeDalyia has a reputation beyond reputeDalyia has a reputation beyond reputeDalyia has a reputation beyond reputeDalyia has a reputation beyond reputeDalyia has a reputation beyond reputeDalyia has a reputation beyond reputeDalyia has a reputation beyond reputeDalyia has a reputation beyond reputeDalyia has a reputation beyond reputeDalyia has a reputation beyond repute
¬» مشروبك   pepsi
¬» قناتك mbc4
?? ??? ~
My Mms ~
افتراضي


“Okay,” she added, “quick rundown on timing.”

WITHIN THE HOUR, PARKER, IN A SUBDUED GRAY SUIT, STOOD ON the portico to greet the bride.While Mac scooted and shifted to get her shots, Parker offered a welcoming smile.

“Ready for your day, Marilee?”

“I’m so ready. Oh, oh, look at this.” The bride, already radiant without makeup, with her hair yanked back in a messy tail, grabbed her mother’s hand, and her best friend/maid of honor’s. “It’s . . . it’s like a magical forest glade. A wild, secret forest.”

“Emma will be so happy you like it.We all are. And this is just the beginning. Why don’t I take you up to the Bride’s Suite, or today maybe we should call it your bower.”

Amid more pots of violets and wild roses, among trays of champagne and colorful fruit, Parker hung the bride’s gown, the attendants’ dresses, served refreshments, answered questions.

“Hair and makeup are heading up,” she said when she got the alert through her earbud.“I’m going to leave you to Mac for now. I’ll be checking back in. If you need me in the meantime, just push one-one-one on the phone.”

She strolled out, then went into a dash to check on Emma’s progress outside. Emma was right, she noted; the flower carts were wonderful. If the entrance was magic forest glade, here the guests would step into magic forest meadow.

More deep red wild roses and rich purple violets twined up the portico. Charming and generous arrangements of wildflowers spilled from carts and tubs. Even now members of Emma’s team added small distressed copper holders with more flowers to the sides of the chairs they’d covered with pale green slips.

Pretty, she thought, as the pictures Mac would take.

She pitched in for the ten minutes she could spare, then hurried back to greet the groom.

“Groom’s on-site,” she told Mac through her headset.

She greeted, escorted, offered refreshments, hung tuxes.

And noticed the groom’s father, a widower of five years, standing alone on the small terrace.

She slipped out with him.

“Mr. Mansfield, I wonder if you’d like to take a little walk with me, see the area we’ve dressed for the ceremony.”

She hooked her arm through his.“It’ll give the wedding party a little time to settle in,” she added as she walked him out.

“It’s going to be a beautiful day,” he said.

“It really is.”

He was, she thought, a handsome man. His hair, full, thick, and pewter gray, his face lightly tanned and strong-featured. But his eyes were full of sorrow.

She spoke gently.“It’s hard, I think, to face the happy times, the important moments, without someone we love, someone who made those times and moments possible.”

He reached up a hand to cover hers. “I don’t want it to show. I don’t want any cloud on Luke’s day.”

“It’s all right. He misses her today, too. He thinks of her, as you do. But it’s different for you. She was your partner. I think Luke’s going to have what you and your wife had with Marilee.The love, the bond, the partnership.”

“Kathy would have loved Marilee.” He took a deep breath, then another when he saw the terrace, the pergola, the lawns.“She would have loved this, every moment of this. You’re giving our boy a beautiful day.”

“We just set the stage.You and your wife helped make him into a man, and now he and Marilee are giving each other a beautiful day.”

She pulled out her tissues, quietly offered one as his eyes filled.

“Mr. Mansfield—”

“Under the circumstances, I think you should call me Larry.”

“Larry, I know what it’s like to face those happy times without the ones you most want to share them with.”

He nodded as he composed himself. “I knew your parents.”

“Yes, I remember you and your wife coming to parties here. Luke looks like her.”

“He does. God, yes, he does.”

“I think, when we have those times, those moments, all we can do is hold those who can’t be here with us.” She laid a hand on her heart. “Knowing they’re proud and happy, too.”

He nodded, and the hand over hers tightened briefly. “You’re a good girl, Parker. A wise young woman.”

“I think Marilee’s a lucky one, with her husband and her father-in-law.Would you like to walk some more?”

“No, I think I should go back. Be with my boy.” He smiled at Parker, laid a hand on his heart as she had. “We’ll go be with our boy.”

She took him back, pleased to be able to make him laugh on the way. Then she walked quickly into the happy chaos of the Bride’s Suite.

Women were gowned, men suited. The ring bearer entertained, the flower girl pampered. On the dot of the designated schedule, Parker lined up attendants, helped adjust rose and violet halos, pass out bouquets, dab moist eyes to protect makeup.

“Groom’s in place,” Laurel said through her earbud.

“So are we. Cue music for parents.” After sending the bride’s grandparents down, she turned to Larry, who would escort his own mother down the aisle. “You’re up.” On impulse, she rose to her toes, kissed his cheek. “Good luck. You look beautiful, Mrs. Mansfield. Enjoy the wedding.”

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.




Dalyia غير متواجد حالياً  
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قديم 09-02-11, 01:59 AM   #19

Dalyia

إدارية ومشرفة سابقة وكاتبة بمكتبة روايتي وعضوة بفريق التصميم والترجمة و الافلام والسينما ومعطاء التسالي ونجمة الحصريات الفنية ومميز بالقسم الطبى

 
الصورة الرمزية Dalyia

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¬» مشروبك   pepsi
¬» قناتك mbc4
?? ??? ~
My Mms ~
افتراضي

CHAPTER NINE

AS 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.

“Baby, you look like something out of a dream.”

“I feel . . . God, I—Mom. I didn’t expect to get all choked up.”

Parker handed her a tissue.

“You were right, Parker,” the bride added as she carefully dabbed the corners of her eyes. “About not wearing a veil.” She touched a hand to the simple band sparkling in her dark, upswept hair. “About keeping the headpiece understated.”

“You couldn’t look more perfect, Alysa,” Parker told her. “Unless . . .”

As Emma was still completing the Ballroom, Parker took the bridal bouquet from its box, offered it to the MOB. “One last lovely detail.”

With the trail of silver-edged orchids accented by clear beads in her hand, the bride turned to the cheval glass once again. “Oh. Oh. Now I—I guess I feel like something out of a dream.”

The MOB laid her hand on Parker’s arm, sighed.

And that, Parker thought, was the best acknowledgment of a job—so far—well done.

She heard the squeal—young, happy, not distressed—but hurried to the other side of the room as Mal, his arms full of flower girl, opened the door.

“Excuse me, ladies, but I found this fairy princess. Is this the entrance to the castle?”

“It certainly is.” Parker started to reach out for the girl when a woman called out, and headed toward them, the other two flower girls on each hip.

“Leah! I’m sorry, so sorry. She got away from me, and I couldn’t catch up with her with the other two.”

“No problem.”

“They’re ready for pictures,” Parker said. “So you can take them right in to Mac. I’ll give you a hand.”

She took the unrepentant Leah. “Thanks,” she said to Mal before carrying the little girl away.

“Bye, Mal! Bye!” Leah called over her shoulder, and Parker’s lips twitched in amusement as the girl added noisy blown kisses to the farewell.

When she came back, she found Mal helping himself to the cheese tray.

“Good stuff,” he commented.

“Protein helps keep the energy up.”

“Okay.” He spread some Port Salut on a cracker. “Have some energy.”

It couldn’t hurt, she decided, and accepted. “Where did you find Leah?”

“The kid? Right out in the hall, dancing. Doing, you know. . .” He twirled a finger in the air. “She’s all about her getup. I’d just taken the—what is it, FOG?—or maybe it was the other, the FOB—a shot of Jack Black, so she couldn’t have been out there long.”

“We appreciate the help.”

He smiled. “Show me.”

“I don’t have time for this. I have to—” She held up a hand. “Red Alert. Solarium.”

“What are you, Captain Kirk?”

But she was already streaking out of the room. “What’s the—Well, damn it,” she muttered into her headset. “I’m on my way.”

“What’s the deal?”

“One of the guests decided the B and G’s specific directive of no children under twelve didn’t apply to their four kids, who are now apparently wreaking havoc during the preceremony cocktails. Laurel’s the only one down there, helping the servers, and she’s about to blow.”

“Do you often have to sprint through the acres of this house?”

“Yes.”

“Then why do you do it on stilts?”

“These are exceptionally attractive Pradas, and I’m wearing them because I’m a professional.”

She sure as hell could move in them, he thought. “It doesn’t have anything to do with vanity.”

“By-product.”

She slowed from sprint to brisk as they entered the Solarium.

He heard the kids before he saw them. Easily enough, he mused, as they were yelling, squalling, crying at the top of their lungs. He saw, as he imagined Parker did, the varied reactions of the other guests who’d arrived early enough to enjoy a few belts and some fancy finger food before the I Dos. Amusement, annoyance, distress, disdain.

A hell of a mix, he thought. And when he noted one of the uniformed caterers sweeping up broken glassware, a hell of a mess. As Parker wove through the crowd with the accuracy and focus of a heat-seeking missile, he noted the kids came by their manners naturally. Mama was shouting, too.

“Parker.” Laurel, who wore a white chef’s apron over her business suit, bared her teeth in what could only loosely be called a smile. “Mrs. Farrington.”

“Parker Brown.” Parker stuck out a hand, grabbed Farrington’s before the woman could object, then kept hold of it. “So nice to meet you.Why don’t you and the children come with me? Is their father with you?”

“He’s at the bar, and we don’t have any intention of going anywhere.”

“Laurel, why don’t you locate Mr. Farrington and ask him to join us? You have very handsome children,” she told the woman. “I have to ask you to control them.”

“Nobody tells me what to do with my own children.”

Parker’s smile remained; it simply turned fierce. “As this is my home, my property, and your children were specifically not invited to today’s event, I’m doing just that.”

“We’re here as a family.”

Parker caught her breath as one of the boys fighting on the floor hurled a toy car at his brother. Malcolm caught it one-handed an inch before it collided with a glass cylinder filled with orchids.

“And are you prepared to pay for damages? Today isn’t about you and your family,” she continued, and though her voice stayed low, the tone shifted to hard-nosed. “It’s about Alysa and Bo. The invitation clearly expressed their wishes for no children under twelve.”

As the din stopped, she glanced down to see Malcolm hunkered with the four boys, all of them wide-eyed and blissfully quiet.

“I think that’s selfish and inconsiderate.”

“I’m sure you do,” Parker said equably. “But it remains their wish.”

“I told her not to bring them.” Mr. Farrington walked up, a low-ball glass in one hand.“I told you not to drag them along, Nancy.”

“And I told you that I expect my own cousin to have more tolerance and affection for my children than to bar them from his own wedding.”

“Would you like to continue to argue about it here?” Parker smiled grimly.“In front of those children and the other guests? Tell me, Mrs. Farrington, did you RSVP for six?”

The woman pressed her lips into a hard line, said nothing.

“As I don’t believe you did so, we have no dining accommodations for your children, and as it’s a plated meal, no dinner. However, we’ll be happy to make arrangements for child care for them elsewhere in the house, with appropriate food and beverage during the wedding and reception. I can have two licensed child care providers here within twenty minutes, for a fee of fifty dollars an hour. Each.”

“If you think I’m going to pay you to—”

“You’ll either agree to the child care and the quoted fee, or you’ll have to arrange for your own off-site. My job is to carry out Alysa and Bo’s directives and wishes. And I’m going to do my job.”

“Come on, Gary, we’re leaving. Get the boys.”

“You go.” Gary shrugged. “Take the boys, or leave them and I’ll pay the fee. I’m staying for the wedding. Remember, Nancy, Bo is my cousin.”

“We’re going. Boys, now! I said right now!”

The crying, yelling, arguing revved up again as she grabbed, dragged, and hauled four angry kids away. Parker and Laurel exchanged glances. Laurel nodded and followed Nancy Farrington out.

“I apologize,” Gary said.“We’ve been going around about this for weeks, but I thought we’d settled it.Then she had the boys in the car when I came outside. I shouldn’t have let it go. I suspect they broke that tray of glasses I saw one of the servers taking out. What do I owe you?”

“Accidents happen, Mr. Farrington. I hope you enjoy the wedding. Malcolm, would you come with me?”

“Sure.” He dropped the toy car he still held in Gary’s hand. “Classic,” he said, and strolled out after Parker.

“What did you say to shut them off ?” she demanded.



Dalyia غير متواجد حالياً  
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قديم 09-02-11, 02:00 AM   #20

Dalyia

إدارية ومشرفة سابقة وكاتبة بمكتبة روايتي وعضوة بفريق التصميم والترجمة و الافلام والسينما ومعطاء التسالي ونجمة الحصريات الفنية ومميز بالقسم الطبى

 
الصورة الرمزية Dalyia

? العضوٌ??? » 130321
?  التسِجيلٌ » Jul 2010
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?  نُقآطِيْ » Dalyia has a reputation beyond reputeDalyia has a reputation beyond reputeDalyia has a reputation beyond reputeDalyia has a reputation beyond reputeDalyia has a reputation beyond reputeDalyia has a reputation beyond reputeDalyia has a reputation beyond reputeDalyia has a reputation beyond reputeDalyia has a reputation beyond reputeDalyia has a reputation beyond reputeDalyia has a reputation beyond repute
¬» مشروبك   pepsi
¬» قناتك mbc4
?? ??? ~
My Mms ~
افتراضي


“I told them I was holding the ’Vette hostage. Really nice Matchbox edition of the ’66. And that if they didn’t knock it off, the lady talking to their mother was going to arrest them.”

“Arrest them?”

“It worked. Then when they shut up, we talked about cars. They’d been playing cars when their mother came in and told Esme, the nanny, to get them dressed in their suits. They hate the suits, by the way, and just wanted to play cars. Who could blame them?”

“Well, you handled it very well.”

“There might’ve been four of them, but you had the tougher job. They’re brats, sure, but she’s a stone bitch. So, how about a beer?”

“I don’t have time for a beer. That ate up most of the arrival, mixer, photo time. Mac’s nearly done with the groom’s party.”

“How do you know?”

She tapped her earpiece.“She told me.We’re green to go,” she said into her headset and made Malcolm grin. “Cue guest seating music, please, and close the bar. If we don’t close the bar, a lot of people never get outside,” she told Malcolm. “Ten minutes to groom’s entrance. I’ve got to get upstairs.Thanks for your help.”

“No problem. I’m going to get that beer before I’m shut out.”

He liked watching her work. He didn’t know what she was doing most of the time, but that didn’t cut into the enjoyment. She covered ground, a lot of ground, or seemed to fade into the background. More than once he saw her produce something from a pocket, apparently she had a few hundred of them inside that all-business suit jacket, for a guest.

Kleenex, eyeglass cleaner, safety pins, tape, matches, a pen. She had a small department store on her from his point of view. Now and then he saw her lips moving, responding, he assumed, to something from her headset.Then she’d head off in a new direction, to some new duty or to avert some new crisis.

Occasionally she huddled with one or more of her partners, or one of the subcontractors, then they were all off and running.

But if you weren’t paying attention, it looked as if the entire deal ran on its own, sort of organically.

All the hoopla of the wedding itself—fancy dresses and tuxes, a cargo ship of flowers, candles and rivers of that strange white gauze winding around stuff. Music, tears, a lot of twinkling lights coming on to the ahhs of the crowd.

Processions, recessions, then hot dog, the bar’s open again and the horde’s guided in for more food and drink to hold them off until it’s time for the big elaborate dinner. More flowers, candles, twinkling lights, music, toasts, table-hopping. All timed, he saw, to the minute.

Then it’s the exodus to the Ballroom for party time, and before the last guest’s out the door, an entire hive of worker bees are clearing, cleaning, breaking down half the tables.

He knew this for a fact, as he somehow got drafted for the breakdown.

By the time he’d made it up to the Ballroom, the party was in full swing. More tables, more candles and twinkles, and a load of flowers. Hot music now to lure guests onto the dance floor, another bar, along with servers passing trays of champagne.

The centerpiece here, he noted, staggering among Emma’s banquet of flowers, was Laurel’s cake as artwork. Since he’d sampled her wares before, he expected it to taste as amazing as it looked.

Something to look forward to.

He caught sight of Mac, slipping and snaking through the crowd, circling in and around the dance floor and tables, getting her shots.

Malcolm treated himself to a beer before winding his way to stand with Carter.

“Some bash,” he commented.

“One of the big ones. I can’t believe my sister’s going to be doing this next week.”

“Yeah, that’s right. I got an invite to that. I guess it’ll be different to be on that side.”

“For all of us. Mac and I decided it’s a kind of practice run for our turn. Figuring out how to be part of the wedding and run it at the same time.”

“Well, she won’t be taking her own pictures, unless she’s got a clone.”

“No.” Carter grinned. “She’s still trying to figure out how to take some of it, but she’s got a woman she likes and trusts to do the photography.And they’re all holding regular summits to determine the best ways to make it run smoothly.”

“If anybody can. Listen, while I’ve got you for a minute, do you ever do any tutoring?You know, a one-on-one kind of thing?”

“With my students?” Carter angled away from the crowd. “Sure.”

“No, I mean outside that.”

“Not really. I could.”

“This kid’s been working for me a few months. Good mechanic. He’s got potential. I figured out a while back he can’t read. I mean, he can, but barely. Enough to get by, enough to fake it.”

“Illiteracy’s a bigger problem than a lot of people realize.You want to help him learn to read.”

“I’m no teacher, and hell, I wouldn’t know where to start anyway. I thought about you.”

“I could help with that, if he’s willing.”

“He’ll be willing if he wants to keep his job, or I can make him think that if he balks.”

“How old is he?”

“Seventeen. Nearly eighteen. He’s got his high school diploma—mostly, from what I get—by paying other kids to get him through, or charming the girls to. I’ll pay the freight for it.”

“No freight, Mal. I’d like to do this.”

“Thanks, but if you change your mind on the kid or the freight, no hard feelings. I’ll tell him to call you, and set it up.”

Malcolm took a swallow of beer, nodded to where Parker crossed from one end of the Ballroom to the other. “So, tell me something I don’t know.”

“Sorry?”

“Parker.Tell me something about her I don’t know.”

“Ah . . . Um.”

“Jesus, Cart, not like dirty little secrets. But if she’s got some, I’ll get you drunk and work them out of you. I mean stuff like what does she do when she’s not doing this?”

“She mostly always does this.”

“For fun. Do I have to go get you a beer just for this?”

“No.” Carter drew his eyebrows together in thought. “They hang together, the four of them. I try not to speculate on what goes on when they do, because some of it probably involves me. Shopping. She likes to shop.They all do.”

“That doesn’t come as a surprise.”

“Well . . . She’s a big reader, one with very eclectic tastes.”

“Okay, that’s a good one.”

“And . . .” Obviously warming to the task, Carter accepted the beer Malcolm snagged off a passing tray.“She and Laurel both like old movies.The classic black-and-whites. She goes to fund-raisers and charity events, some of the club functions. She and Del split those up. It’s a Brown thing.”

“Noblesse oblige.”

“Exactly. Oh, and she’s interested in doing a book.”

“No shit?”

“None. A wedding book, with each of them doing a section on their particular areas, and her tying them together. Which is pretty much how Vows runs. And I have to assume you’re not compiling this data on her out of idle curiosity.”

“You’d be right about that.”

“Then you should know, nobody compiles data outside of the NSA like Parker Brown. If she’s interested in you, she’s got a file on you.” Carter tapped his temple. “Up here.”

Malcolm shrugged. “I’m an open book.”

“Nobody is, even if they think they are. Gotta go, that’s Mac’s signal. Ah . . .” He held the barely touched beer out to Malcolm.

At loose ends, Malcolm wandered downstairs, and found Mrs. Grady paging through a magazine with a cup of tea at the kitchen counter.

“Coffee’s fresh if you’re after it.”

“Wouldn’t mind, unless you want to go up to the party and give me that dance.”

She laughed. “I’m not dressed for a party.”

“Me, either.” He took a mug, poured himself some coffee. “Hell of a party though.”

“My girls know how it’s done. Did you get your dinner?”

“Not yet.”

“How do you feel about chicken pot pie?”

“Fondly.”

She smiled.“It so happens I have some I’d be willing to share.”

“That’s lucky for me, as it so happens I was hoping to have dinner with the woman of my dreams.”

“Parker’s busy, so you’ll have to settle for me.”

“There’s nothing about you that involves settling.”

“You are a clever one, Malcolm.” She gave him a wink and a poke. “Set the table.”

She got up to put the casserole in the oven to heat and noted he hadn’t corrected her about Parker being the woman of his dreams.

She enjoyed his company. It was true enough, she admitted, that there were qualities in him that reminded her of her own Charlie. The combination of easy charm and rough edges, the casual strength and the occasional glint in his eye that said he could be dangerous when he chose.

After they sat and he’d taken the first bite, he grinned over at her. “Okay, it tastes as good as it looks. I cook a little.”

“Do you now?”

“Takeout and nuking get old, and I can’t always hit on my mother for a meal. So I put something together a couple times a week anyway. Maybe you’ll give me the recipe?”

“Maybe I will. How’s your mother?”

“She’s great. I bought her a Wii. Now she’s addicted to Mario Kart and Bowling. She kicks my ass in Bowling, I kick hers on Mario Kart.”

“You’ve always been a good son.”

He shrugged it off. “Some times better than others. She likes her job.That’s important, liking your work.You like yours.”

“Always have.”

“You’ve been with the Browns ever since I heard about the Browns, and I guess before that.”

“It’ll be forty years next spring.”

“Forty?” It didn’t hurt her vanity to see his genuine shock at the number. “So you were, what, eight? Aren’t there laws about child labor?”

She laughed, pointed a finger at him. “I was twenty-one.”

“How’d you start?”

“As a maid. Back then, Mrs. Brown, who’d be Parker’s grandmother, had a full staff, and was no easy woman to work for.Three housemaids, the butler, the housekeeper, cook and kitchen staff, gardeners, drivers. There were twenty-four of us as a rule. I was young and green, but needed the work, not just for my keep but to get through the loss of my husband in the war. The Vietnam War.”

“How long were you married?”

“Almost three years, but my Charlie was gone for a soldier nearly half of that. Oh, I was so angry with him for signing up. But he said if he was going to be an American—he’d come over from Kerry, you see—then he had to fight for America. So he fought, and he died, like too many others. They gave him a medal for it. Well, you know what that is.”

“Yeah.”

“We’d been living in the city, and I didn’t want the city when I knew Charlie wouldn’t be in it with me again. I’d been doing for a friend of the Browns, and she remarried and was moving to Europe. She recommended me to Mrs. Brown, the one who was, and I started on as a maid. The young master, Parker’s father, was near my age, a bit younger when I started on. I can tell you he didn’t take after his mother.”

“I’ve heard a few things that tell me we’re all better off for that.”

“He had a way of navigating the gap between his parents. He had a kindness to him, a shrewdness, yes, but a kindness. He fell for the young miss, and that was lovely to see. Like a romantic movie. She was so full of fun and light. I can tell you when the house came to them, it was full of fun and light—and that hadn’t been the case before, not in my time. They kept the staff on who wanted to stay, retired those who wanted to retire. As the housekeeper at the time was ready to go, the young miss asked if I wanted the position. It was good work for good people in a happy home for a lot of years.”

She let out a sigh. “It was my family who died on that day, too.”

“I was in LA, and I heard about it, even before my mother told me.The Browns made a mark.”

“They did.This house, this home is part of the mark.”

“Now you run it pretty much solo.”

“Oh, I have help with the cleaning. Parker leaves that for me to decide when I need it, what I need.We still have gardeners for the grounds, and Parker and Emma deal with them for the most part. And Parker?” She stopped, laughed. “It’s the same now as ever. No one has to tidy up after that girl.You’re lucky if she isn’t organizing you to within an inch. I get my winters off in the island breezes, and any time I need between. And I have the great pleasure of watching two children I saw take their first steps leave their own marks.”

She scooped another helping in his bowl. “You remind me of my Charlie.”

“Really? Want to get married?”

She wagged the spoon at him. “That right there would’ve rolled just as quick off his tongue. He had a way with the ladies, regardless of their age. It gives me a soft spot for you, Malcolm. Don’t disappoint me.”

“I’ll try not to.”

“Are you after my girl, Malcolm?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good. Don’t screw it up.”

“I take that as a green light from your corner, so how about some tips on navigation?”

She shook her head. “I don’t think you need them. I will say she’s all too used to the men who go after her being predictable. You wouldn’t be. The girl wants love, and with it the rest she grew up with. That kind of partnership, respect, friendship. She’ll never settle for less, and shouldn’t. She won’t tolerate dishonesty.”

“Lying’s just lazy.”

“Which you’ve never been.You’ve got a way of nudging people to tell you things about themselves without telling much of anything about you and yours. She’ll need to know you.”

He started to say there wasn’t much to know, then remembered his open-book comment to Carter and the response. “Maybe.”

She waited a beat, watching him. “Do you see much of your uncle and aunt?”

His face closed up. “We stay out of each other’s way.”

“Tell her why.”

He shifted, obviously uncomfortable. “It’s old business.”

“So was all you wanted to hear from me over chicken pot pie. The old goes into making us what we are, or what we’re hell-bent on not being. Now go on back to the party, see if she can make use of you. She appreciates useful.”

“I’ll help you clean up.”

“Not tonight. Go on, get out of my kitchen. Get in her way for a while.”




Dalyia غير متواجد حالياً  
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