"Sorry about the FOB's bad luck, but if that's the biggest problem this weekend, we're in good shape."
Parker shot out a finger. "Don't jinx it."
Mac strolled in, long and lean in jeans and a black T-shirt. "Hello, pals of mine."
Laurel squinted at her friend's easy smile and slumberous green eyes. "You had morning sex."
"I had stupendous morning sex, thank you." Mac poured herself coffee, grabbed a muffin. "And you?"
"Bitch."
With a laugh, Mac dropped down in her chair, stretched out her legs. "I'll take my morning exercise over your treadmill and Bowflex."
"Mean, nasty bitch," Laurel said and popped a raspberry.
"I love summer, when the love of my life doesn't have to get up and out early to enlighten young minds." Mac opened her own laptop. "Now I'm primed, in all possible ways, for business."
"Saturday afternoon's FOB may have broken his nose," Parker told her.
"Bummer." Mac's brow creased. "I can do a lot with Photoshop if they want me to, but it's kind of a cheat. What is, is. And it makes an amusing memory, in my opinion."
"We'll see what the bride's opinion is once he gets back from the doctor." Parker glanced over as Emma rushed in.
"I'm not late. There's twenty seconds left." Black curls bouncing, she scooted to the coffee station. "I fell back to sleep. After."
"Oh, I hate you, too," Laurel muttered. "We need a new rule. No bragging about sex at business meetings when half of us aren't getting any."
"Seconded," Parker said immediately.
"Aww." Laughing, Emma scooped some fruit into a bowl.
"Saturday afternoon's FOB may have a broken nose."
"Aww," Emma repeated, with genuine concern at Mac's announcement.
"We'll deal with it when we have more details, but however it turns out, it really falls to Mac and me. I'll keep you updated," Parker said to Mac. "Tonight's event. All out-of-town attendants, relatives, and guests have arrived. The bride, the MOB, and the attendants are due here at three for hair and makeup. The MOG has her own salon date and is due by four, with the FOG. FOB will arrive with his daughter. We'll keep him happy and occupied until it's time for the formal shots that include him. Mac?"
"The bride's dress is a beaut. Vintage romance. I'll be playing that up."
As Mac outlined her plans and timetable, Laurel rose for a second cup of coffee. She made notes here and there, continued to do so when Emma took over. As the bulk of Laurel's job was complete, she'd fill in when and where she was needed.
It was a routine they'd perfected since Vows had gone from concept to reality.
"Laurel," Parker said.
"The cake's finished and it's a wowzer. It's heavy, so I'll need help from the subs transferring it to Reception, but the design doesn't require any on-site assembly. I'll need you to do the ribbon and white rose petals, Emma, once it's transferred, but that's it until it's time to serve. They opted against a groom's cake, and went for a selection of mini-pastries and heart-shaped chocolates. They're done, too, and we'll serve them on white china lined with lace doilies to mirror the design of the cake. The cake table linen is pale blue, eyelet lace. Cake knife and server, provided by the B & G. They were her grandmother's, so we'll keep our eye on them.
"I'm going to be working on Saturday's cakes most of today, but should be freed up by four if anyone needs me. During the last set, the subs will put leftover cake in the takeaway boxes and tie them with blue ribbon we've had engraved with the B & G's names and the date. Same goes if there are any leftover chocolates or pastries. Mac, I'd like a picture of the cake for my files. I haven't done this design before."
"Check."
"And Emma, I need the flowers for Saturday night's cake. Can you bring them to me when you come to dress today's event?"
"No problem."
"On the personal front?" Mac lifted a hand for attention. "No one's mentioned that my mother's latest wedding is tomorrow, in Italy. Which is, thankfully, many, many miles away from our happy home here in Greenwich, Connecticut. I got a call from her just after five this morning, as Linda doesn't get the concept of time zones and, well, let's face it, doesn't give a shit anyway."
"Why didn't you just let it ring?" Laurel demanded even as Emma reached over to rub Mac's leg in sympathy.
"Because she'd just keep calling back, and I'm trying to deal with her. On my terms, for a change." Mac raked her fingers through the bold red of her gamine cap of hair. "There were, as expected, tears and recriminations, as she's decided she really wants me there. Since I have no intention of hopping on a plane, particularly when I have an event tonight, two tomorrow, and another on Sunday, to see her get married for the fourth time, she's not speaking to me."