Tall, Dark & Hungry(56)

There was a soft expelling of breath on the other end of the phone. "Thank you, Ms. Simp—"

"Call me Terri."

"Thank you, Terri," Meredith said. "It's always nice to be appreciated."

"Well, you certainly are that," she told her, then thanked her again. Saying good-bye, she hung up.

"Was that Meredith?"

Terri glanced up from the receiver she'd just set in the cradle to find Bastien in the doorway to the penthouse office. "Yes, it was," she admitted, getting to her feet and moving around the desk. "She's arranged for price quotes and sample meals from the best caterers in New York. We decided that, since Kate isn't here to taste them, which means you and I will have to in her place, there's no reason to even tell her about the change—unless something goes terribly wrong at the wedding." She paused and raised her eyebrows. "How did it go at QIC's apartment? Are any of the flowers salvageable?"

Bastien raised a bag he was holding, grasped both handles, and opened it wide for her to peer inside. Terri tipped her head and peered down at several boxes of Kleenex.

"Darn," she breathed, knowing what that meant.

"There are several more bags out in the living room," he told her dryly. "And some string."

Terri closed her eyes, then opened them again. Raising her head, she peered at him. "None of them were salvageable?"

"The garbage bags were ripped by the ceiling caving in, and the pipes poured water down on them, apparently turning them into tissue stew. The landlady had them carted out with the rubble when they cleared it away."

"Ah."

"The good news is, I rented several movies to watch while we make the flowers. That was the sales-clerk's suggestion when I asked how much Kleenex I needed to make flowers for a wedding," he admitted, following her out of the office.

"Clever girl, suggesting that," Terri commented. In the living room, she saw the collection of bags sitting in the center of the room.

"I thought so," Bastien agreed.

Chris was no longer in the room. Terri guessed that meant Bastien had brought him back fresh clothes, and he was in his room changing. Terri rifled through the shopping bags until she found the string, then moved to claim a corner of the couch.

Bastien immediately settled next to her, and dumped the boxes of Kleenex on the coffee table. They both grabbed and ripped open a box, then paused.

"Do you know how to make these things?" she asked doubtfully.

"I was rather hoping you would," he admitted.

"Darn," she breathed.

"I do."

They both glanced up with surprise as Vincent walked into the room and came to join them.

"You do?" Bastien asked doubtfully.

"Mmmm." The actor dropped onto the chair across from them, and claimed a box for himself. "It's amazing the things you learn while working in the theater."



Terri tossed another flower into one of the large cardboard boxes Bastien had fetched. That had been Vincent's suggestion: storage that would prevent the flowers from being crushed. While Bastien was off finding the boxes, the actor had proceeded to show Terri and Chris how to make the flowers. He had repeated the lesson for Bastien's benefit upon his return, making Terri and Chris watch again too, since they were still struggling somewhat with their efforts. All of them had been working at the project almost nonstop since. Terri was hoping that meant they would be finished before the wedding—which wasn't a joke. Vincent was the only one of them who knew what he was doing; the rest of them were ruining more flowers than they were making.

They'd been at it since the morning before. It was now late afternoon of the next day. After two days of work, with only a pause to sleep last night, they had watched countless movies and produced one whole and one partial box of usable flowers. And three boxes of rejects. They were improving, though. Two of the boxes of rejects were from the first night, and the third box was only about three-quarters full with today's failures.

"How many more do you think we need?" Terri asked, grabbing a handful of popcorn and popping it into her mouth, her gaze fixed on the television screen. She jumped as the actress onscreen was attacked from behind, then winced as the woman's chainsaw wielding attacker turned her into dogmeat in a matter of seconds.

"Is it just me, or does anyone else think there is just something so wrong about watching horror movies while making tissue flowers for a wedding?" Chris asked.

Terri grinned at the editor. She even managed not to wince at his misshapened face. Some of the swelling had gone down, but not much, and his coloring was still an angry red. "I'd think, as a man, you'd find it totally appropriate," she said. "After all, isn't the idea of marriage itself a horror to most men?"