But he wandered across the room to the windows and looked down at the flower-decked terrace, the white slippered chairs, the pretty bride turned toward the smiling groom.
“They’re doing the ring thing,” Del called out.
“So Parker just told me.” Laurel tapped her headset. “I’m set. Emma, the cake’s ready for you.”
She balanced the top layer with an offset stem loaded with blackberries. “Five-minute warning,” she announced, and began loading her bin with the remaining fruit. “Let’s get the champagne poured, the Bloody Marys and mimosas mixed. Light the candles, please.” She started to lift the bin, but Del beat her to it.
“I’ll carry it.”
She shrugged, and moved over to hit the switch for the background music that would play until the orchestra took over.
They started down the back stairs, passing uniformed waitstaff on their way up with hors d’oeuvres for the brief cocktail mixer designed to keep guests happy while Mac took the formals of the bride and groom, the wedding party and family.
She swung into her kitchen where the caterers ran full steam. Used to the chaos, Laurel slid through, got a small bowl and scooped out fruit. She passed it to Del.
“Thanks.”
“Just stay out of the way. Yes, they’re ready,” she said to Parker through the headset. “Yeah, in thirty. In place.” She glanced over at the caterers. “On schedule. Oh, Del’s here. Uh-huh.”
Leaning on the counter and eating berries, he watched her as she stripped off her apron.
“Okay, heading out now.”
Del pushed off the counter to follow her as she headed through the mudroom that would soon be transformed into her extra cooler and storage area. She pulled the clip out of her hair, tossed it aside, and shook her hair into place as she stepped outside.
“Where are we going?”
“I’m going to help escort guests inside. You’re going away, somewhere.”
“I like it here.”
It was her turn to smile. “Parker said to get rid of you until it’s time to clean up. Go find your little friends, Del, and if you’re good boys you’ll be fed later.”
“Fine, but if I get roped into cleanup, I want some of that cake.”
They separated, him strolling toward the remodeled pool house that served as Mac’s studio and home, her striding toward the terrace, where the bride and groom exchanged their first married kiss.
Laurel glanced back once—just once. She’d known him all her life—that was fate, she supposed. But it was her own fault, and her own problem, that she’d been in love with him nearly as long.
She allowed herself one sigh before fixing a bright, professional smile on her face to lend a hand herding the celebrants into Reception.
CHAPTER TWO
L ONG AFTER THE LAST GUEST DEPARTED AND THE CATERERS LOADED up, Laurel stretched out on the sofa of the family parlor with a well-deserved glass of wine. She wasn’t sure where the men might be—back to their dens with a six-pack maybe—but it was nice, very nice, to unwind with just the women, and the relative quiet.
“Damn good weekend.” Mac lifted her glass in toast. “Four rehearsals, four events. Not a single hitch in any of them. Not even a blip of a hitch. That’s a record.”
“The cake was amazing,” Emma added.
“You had a forkful,” Laurel pointed out.
“An amazing forkful. Plus it was just sweet today, the way the groom’s little boy stood as best man. He was so cute. It got me weepy.”
“They’re going to make a nice family.” Parker sat, eyes closed, BlackBerry on her lap. “You watch some of the second-timearounds with kids, and think: Ho boy, rough sailing coming up. But this?You can just see she and the kid are nuts for each other. It was sweet.”
“I got some killer pictures. And the cake was awesome,” Mac added. “Maybe I should go for the poppy seed for mine.”
To ease the cramping, Laurel curled and uncurled her toes. “Last week you wanted the Italian cream.”
“Maybe I should have cake samplers. Small versions of several kinds, different designs. It would be a culinary orgy, plus amazing photography.”
Laurel cocked a finger. “Die, Mackensie. Die.”
“You should stick with the Italian cream. It’s your favorite.”
Mac pursed her lips as she nodded at Emma. “You’re right. And it is all about me. What are you leaning toward, cakewise?”
“I can’t even think about it. I’m still getting used to being engaged.” Emma studied the diamond on her finger with an undeniably smug smile. “Plus, once I shift into wedding plans and details, I fully expect to succumb to mania. So we should put that off as long as possible.”