Free Happy Ever After by Nora Roberts

harvested from her kitchen garden on the counter.
    “I troweled it on pretty thick, then I shoveled on more. She’ll not only attend the rehearsal and the rehearsal dinner, but she’ll emcee Mac and Carter’s CD. And bless Carter for being willing to step out as emcee, especially since it was as much his idea as Mac’s.”
    “He’s a good boy. And his older sister’s always been a pain in the rear.”
    “Well, she’s attractive, but she lacks Sherry’s vivacity and easy confidence. She’s smart, but not as innately bright as Carter, and not anywhere near as sweet. She’s the firstborn but not, I think, often first otherwise. And it irks. All I had to do was make it as much about her as Sherry.” Parker shrugged. “And tell her a few truths. Her family loves her. She’s important to them. Some people just have to hear it, a lot.”
    “I bet it didn’t hurt it came from you.‘Parker Brown needs my help.’”
    Parker shrugged again. “Whatever works.The bride gets what she wants and deserves.” She glanced at her watch. “And I’m on schedule.”
    She pitched in on decor for the event, checked on Laurel’s progress, spoke with the caterers on their arrival, the parking attendants at theirs.
    She stepped out on the terrace for a last check as Mac took shots of the setup, and thought, Champagne Elegance all around.
    Not her particular taste for a wedding shower—and since she had three in planning stages for her friends, she had plenty of ideas—but the scene had an appealingly stylish Deco feel, with just enough lush from Emma’s stunning arrangements to soften it.
    “Totally Gatsby,” Mac said as she lowered her camera.
    “I was just thinking that. I’d say the hostess, and the bride, will be very pleased.”
    “You’ve already scored today. Carter sent me a text. His sister wants to meet him after his classes today and talk about the script for the rehearsal dinner. Nice job.”
    “I think she’ll do one, too. I really do. She was excited about the whole thing when she left.”
    “Diane? Excited? Did you spike her tea?”
    “In a manner of speaking, but it was the CD itself that did it. She got misty a few times.”
    Mac’s eyebrows winged up. “I underestimate my own power. Everything a go inside?”
    “Emma was just finishing the public areas, and Laurel’s done and with the caterer. I’m about to . . .” She laid a finger on her headset. “Be right there. Our hostess just arrived,” she told Mac. “I’ll go meet her, bring her through.”
    “I’ll go around, get some unobtrusive shots of arrivals.”
    With a nod, Parker started inside. “Em, Laurel,” she said into her headset, “we’re green.”
    Within the hour, Parker watched women in stylish white suits, floaty white dresses, sharply tailored white pants mingle on the terrace. They sipped champagne, chatted, laughed, nibbled on pretty passed hors d’oeuvres.
    Mac moved among them, capturing moments. The burst of delight as the bride-to-be threw back her head and laughed, the affectionate hug of greeting between friends, the sweetness of a granddaughter tapping flutes with her grandmother.
    It pleased her, as it always did, to see happiness here, to feel it sparkling in the air like champagne, to know what had come to her could be a setting for joy.
    Today it pleased her to be in the company of women, and to have played a part in creating this individualized vision of the female ritual.
    At the appointed time, she moved forward to ask the guests to be seated for lunch, then again retreated to the background.Then braced when the hostess made her way over, her face set in harassed lines.
    “Olivia asked about games. She wants shower games.”
    Which you expressly vetoed, Parker remembered, but smiled. “I can take care of that.”
    “She asked about games and prizes. Obviously I haven’t prepared for—”
    “It’s not a problem. I’ll see to it during lunch. How about three? I find that’s just enough. Fun and