Vision in White

“It really is.” Tipping her head down, Linda rubbed her chin against the fur. “But that’s not all!” She flung out her hand, wiggled her fingers. On the third rode an enormous square-cut diamond set in platinum.

Hell of a rock, Mac thought. Biggest so far. “It’s impressive.”

“The darling. He was miserable without me. He called me night and day from Paris.” She hugged herself, then did another spin. “Of course, I wouldn’t speak to him for the first three days. It was so mean of him to go without me. Naturally I refused to see him when he first got back.”

“Naturally,” Mac agreed.

“He begged me to come to New York. He sent a limo and a driver for me—and the car was

full of white roses. And a bottle of Dom. But first, he sent dozens of roses, every day. Every day! I had to give in and go to him. Oh, it was so romantic.”

Closing her eyes, Linda crossed her arms over her chest. “Like a dream or a movie. We had dinner alone, at home. He had it catered with all my favorites, and more champagne, candlelight, more roses. He told me he couldn’t live without me, then he gave me this. Have you ever seen anything like it?”

Mac watched her mother admire the ring. “I hope you’ll be very happy together. I do. And I’m glad you’re happy now. But I have a shoot.”

“Oh.” With a wave of her hand, Linda dismissed it. “Reschedule, for heaven’s sake. This is major. Your mother’s getting married.”

“For the fourth time, Mom.”

“For the last time. To the right man. And I want you to do the wedding, of course. I need your very best for this. Ari said not to consider the cost. I want something fabulous and romantic and elegant. Sophisticated and lavish. I’m thinking pale pink gown. Valentino, I think, he suits me. Or I might look for something vintage, something old Hollywood. And a wonderful hat rather than a veil.”

Eyes sparkling, she fluffed a hand through her hair. “Some sleek updo, and I’ll have Ari buy me some amazing earrings to set it all off. Pink diamonds, I think. Then masses and masses of white and pink roses. I’ll speak to Emmaline there. We’ll need the invitations to go out right away. I’m sure Parker can take care of it. And the cake. I want massive. The Taj Mahal of wedding cakes, so Laurel will have to outdo herself. And—”

“When?” Mac interrupted.

“When what?”

“When are you planning to do this?”

“Oh. June. I want to be a June bride. I want spring and gardens and—”

“

This June? As in three months from now? We’re booked solid.”

“As if that matters.” With a bright laugh, Linda whisked such mundane matters aside. “I’m your mother. Bump somebody. Now—”

“We don’t bump clients, Mom. We can’t ruin someone else’s wedding because you want a date in June at the last minute.”

Sincere—Mac knew it was sincere—hurt and puzzlement shone on Linda’s face. “Why do you have to be so mean to me? Why do you have to spoil this? Can’t you see I’m happy?”

“Yes, I can. I’m glad for you. I just can’t give you what you want.”

“You just want to punish me. You don’t want me to be happy.”

“That’s not true.”

“Then what? What is it? I’m getting married, and my daughter runs a wedding business. Naturally I expect you to handle it.”

“We can’t handle it in June. We’ve been fully booked for June for months now, nearly a year.”

“Did you hear what I said? Money is no object. He’ll pay whatever you ask. All you have to do is change something around.”

“It’s not a matter of money, or nearly as simple as changing something around. It’s a matter of commitment and integrity. We can’t give you what you want when you want it, but the basic reason is because someone else already has it.”

“And they’re more important than me? Than your own mother?”

“Somebody else has already booked the date, ordered their invitations, made their plans. So, yes, in this case they’re more important.”

“We’ll see about that.” Temper sharpened her voice, her eyes, turned them both into hot little knives. “Everyone knows it’s Parker who runs this business. She’s the one who calls the shots. You’ll fall in line when she tells you to.”

Linda stormed to the door, spun back. “You should be ashamed for treating me this way.”

Weary, Mac walked to her workstation, picked up the phone after her mother slammed out. “I’m sorry,” Mac said when Parker answered. “I want to say I’m sorry first. My mother’s on her way over to see you. I’m afraid you’re going to have to deal with her.”

“All right.”

“She’s getting married again.”

“Well, I’m shocked!”

Mac laughed even as tears stung her eyes. “Thanks. She wants it here, this June.”

“She can’t have it. We’re booked.”

“I know. I told her, but apparently you’re the boss of me. Of all of us.”

“I’m always saying that. I’ll deal with it. It’s no problem.”

“It’s my problem.”

“Seeing as I’m the boss of you, I’m making it mine. I’ll call you back.”

In her office at the main house, Parker rose, walked to a mirror. She checked her appearance, smoothed a hair back into place, freshened her lipstick—and smiled because it felt like girding for battle.

She looked forward to it.