Happy Ever After
Page 36

Then it’s the exodus to the Ballroom for party time, and before the last guest’s out the door, an entire hive of worker bees are clearing, cleaning, breaking down half the tables.
He knew this for a fact, as he somehow got drafted for the breakdown.
By the time he’d made it up to the Ballroom, the party was in full swing. More tables, more candles and twinkles, and a load of flowers. Hot music now to lure guests onto the dance floor, another bar, along with servers passing trays of champagne.
The centerpiece here, he noted, staggering among Emma’s banquet of flowers, was Laurel’s cake as artwork. Since he’d sampled her wares before, he expected it to taste as amazing as it looked.
Something to look forward to.
He caught sight of Mac, slipping and snaking through the crowd, circling in and around the dance floor and tables, getting her shots.
Malcolm treated himself to a beer before winding his way to stand with Carter.
“Some bash,” he commented.
“One of the big ones. I can’t believe my sister’s going to be doing this next week.”
“Yeah, that’s right. I got an invite to that. I guess it’ll be different to be on that side.”
“For all of us. Mac and I decided it’s a kind of practice run for our turn. Figuring out how to be part of the wedding and run it at the same time.”
“Well, she won’t be taking her own pictures, unless she’s got a clone.”
“No.” Carter grinned. “She’s still trying to figure out how to take some of it, but she’s got a woman she likes and trusts to do the photography.And they’re all holding regular summits to determine the best ways to make it run smoothly.”
“If anybody can. Listen, while I’ve got you for a minute, do you ever do any tutoring?You know, a one-on-one kind of thing?”
“With my students?” Carter angled away from the crowd. “Sure.”
“No, I mean outside that.”
“Not really. I could.”
“This kid’s been working for me a few months. Good mechanic. He’s got potential. I figured out a while back he can’t read. I mean, he can, but barely. Enough to get by, enough to fake it.”
“Illiteracy’s a bigger problem than a lot of people realize.You want to help him learn to read.”
“I’m no teacher, and hell, I wouldn’t know where to start anyway. I thought about you.”
“I could help with that, if he’s willing.”
“He’ll be willing if he wants to keep his job, or I can make him think that if he balks.”
“How old is he?”
“Seventeen. Nearly eighteen. He’s got his high school diploma—mostly, from what I get—by paying other kids to get him through, or charming the girls to. I’ll pay the freight for it.”
“No freight, Mal. I’d like to do this.”
“Thanks, but if you change your mind on the kid or the freight, no hard feelings. I’ll tell him to call you, and set it up.”
Malcolm took a swallow of beer, nodded to where Parker crossed from one end of the Ballroom to the other. “So, tell me something I don’t know.”
“Sorry?”
“Parker.Tell me something about her I don’t know.”
“Ah . . . Um.”
“Jesus, Cart, not like dirty little secrets. But if she’s got some, I’ll get you drunk and work them out of you. I mean stuff like what does she do when she’s not doing this?”
“She mostly always does this.”
“For fun. Do I have to go get you a beer just for this?”
“No.” Carter drew his eyebrows together in thought. “They hang together, the four of them. I try not to speculate on what goes on when they do, because some of it probably involves me. Shopping. She likes to shop.They all do.”
“That doesn’t come as a surprise.”
“Well . . . She’s a big reader, one with very eclectic tastes.”
“Okay, that’s a good one.”
“And . . .” Obviously warming to the task, Carter accepted the beer Malcolm snagged off a passing tray.“She and Laurel both like old movies.The classic black-and-whites. She goes to fund-raisers and charity events, some of the club functions. She and Del split those up. It’s a Brown thing.”
“Noblesse oblige.”
“Exactly. Oh, and she’s interested in doing a book.”
“No shit?”
“None. A wedding book, with each of them doing a section on their particular areas, and her tying them together. Which is pretty much how Vows runs. And I have to assume you’re not compiling this data on her out of idle curiosity.”
“You’d be right about that.”
“Then you should know, nobody compiles data outside of the NSA like Parker Brown. If she’s interested in you, she’s got a file on you.” Carter tapped his temple. “Up here.”
Malcolm shrugged. “I’m an open book.”
“Nobody is, even if they think they are. Gotta go, that’s Mac’s signal. Ah . . .” He held the barely touched beer out to Malcolm.
At loose ends, Malcolm wandered downstairs, and found Mrs. Grady paging through a magazine with a cup of tea at the kitchen counter.
“Coffee’s fresh if you’re after it.”
“Wouldn’t mind, unless you want to go up to the party and give me that dance.”
She laughed. “I’m not dressed for a party.”
“Me, either.” He took a mug, poured himself some coffee. “Hell of a party though.”
“My girls know how it’s done. Did you get your dinner?”
“Not yet.”
“How do you feel about chicken pot pie?”
“Fondly.”
She smiled.“It so happens I have some I’d be willing to share.”
“That’s lucky for me, as it so happens I was hoping to have dinner with the woman of my dreams.”
“Parker’s busy, so you’ll have to settle for me.”
“There’s nothing about you that involves settling.”
“You are a clever one, Malcolm.” She gave him a wink and a poke. “Set the table.”
She got up to put the casserole in the oven to heat and noted he hadn’t corrected her about Parker being the woman of his dreams.