Bed of Roses (Bride Quartet #2)(55)

"Mmm-hmm."

"And one more time on Sunday."

"Uh-huh. I need to get in a solid two hours on Sunday's, in the morning before dressing the first event. But the team can finish up the rest of Sunday's while I'm dealing with Saturday's. Both Saturday's."

"I've helped out a few times, but never actually . . . It's every weekend?"

"It slows down some in the winter." She snuggled in a little, toed off her shoes. "April through June are the prime months, with another big jump in September and October. But basically? Yes, every weekend."

"I took a look at your cooler when you were working. You definitely need that second one."

"I really do. When we started, none of us imagined we'd get this big. No, that's wrong. Parker did." It made her smile to think of it. "Parker always did. I just figured I'd be able to make a living wage doing what I liked." Relaxing inch by inch, she curled aching toes. "I never thought we'd get to a point where we're all juggling events and duties, clients, subs. It's amazing."

"You could use more help."

"Probably. It's the same for you, really, isn't it?" When he lifted her feet onto his lap, rubbed those cramped toes and tired arches, her eyes drifted shut. "I remember when you started your firm. It was basically you. Now you have staff, associates. If you're not working on drawings, you're on-site or meeting with clients. When it's your company, it's a whole lot different from punching time."

She opened her eyes again, met his gaze. "And every time you hire somebody-even when it's the best thing, the right thing, to do for yourself and your business-it feels like giving just a little bit of it away."

"I had myself talked in and talked out of hiring Chip a dozen times, just for that reason. The same with Janis, then Michelle. Now I've taken on a summer intern."

"That's great. God, doesn't that make us the older generation? That's hard to deal with."

"He's twenty-one. Just. I felt ancient when I interviewed him. What time do you have to start tomorrow?"

"Let me think . . . Six, I guess. Six thirty maybe." 

"I should let you get some sleep." In an absent gesture, he ran a hand up and down her calf. "You're pretty tied up for the weekend. If you're up for it, we could go out Monday."

"Out? Like out there?" She waved a hand in the air. "Where there are places where people bring you food, and possibly entertainment?"

He smiled. "Dinner and a movie sound good?"

"Dinner and a movie? It sounds like whole buckets of good."

"Then I'll grab a bucket and pick you up Monday, about six thirty?"

"It works for me. Really works. I have a question." She stretched luxuriously as she sat up. "You stuck around here until after midnight, and now you're going to go home so I can get some sleep?"

"You put in a long one." He gave her calf a quick squeeze. "You must be tired."

"Not that tired," she said, and, grabbing a fistful of his shirt, pulled him down with her.





MONDAY EVENING, LAUREL WALKED HER CONSULT CLIENTS TO the door. September's bride and groom took away a container holding a variety of cake samples. But she knew they'd decided on the Italian cream cake. Just as she knew the bride was leaning toward her Royal Fantasy design, and the groom her Mosaic Splendor.

The bride would win, she had no doubt, but it was nice to have a man take a genuine interest in the details.

Plus she'd talk the bride into having a groom's cake in a mosaic design that complemented the wedding cake.

Everybody wins, she thought.

"Just let me know when you make up your minds, and don't worry about changing those minds. There's plenty of time." She kept the easy smile on her face, the breezy manner intact even when she saw Del coming up the walk.

He projected successful lawyer, she thought, in his perfectly cut suit, his perfect briefcase, his handsome shoes.

"Parker's in her office," she told him. "I think she's clear."

"Okay." He came in, shut the door. "Hey," he said when she started up the stairs. "Are you not speaking to me?"

She flicked a glance back at him. "I just did."

"Barely. I'm the one who should be pissed off here. You don't have anything to be snotty about."

"I'm being snotty?" She paused, waited for him to join her on the stairs.

"I don't expect my friends and family to lie to me, or lie by omission. And when they do-"

She poked a finger, hard, into his shoulder, then held it up. "Number one, I didn't know you didn't know. Neither did Parker or Mac or Carter. Or Emma, for that matter. So that's between you and Jack. Second," she continued, poking him again when he started to speak. "I agree with you."