The Wedding Planner

by Millie Criswell

  “Are you okay?” Alarmed, she rushed forward, breasts bouncing unrestrained, and Adam clutched his chest.

  “Yes,” he choked. “Yes, I’m fine. Just a little attack of—” lust! “—asthma.” She pounded on his back.

  “I thought you might have had something lodged in your throat. I know the Heimlich maneuver. I was going to wrap my arms about your chest and—”

  And press those plump breasts into my back, thereby making my front protrude like a barber pole! He mopped his sweating forehead with a handkerchief. “I’m fine. Thanks, anyway. Must be the pollen this time of year.”

  Retreating a few steps, Meredith finally noticed Adam’s overt reaction and swallowed her grin. Well, well, the man was just full of surprises. And he was just as impressive in front as in back.

  “Megan and Andrew are waiting outside. Shall we go?”

  “Uh, don’t you want to put on something more comfortable, like jeans and a T-shirt? We’re going picnicking not tailgating.”

  “I don’t own any jeans, I’m afraid. My mother never allowed us to wear them as children, and I guess I’ve never thought to purchase any.”

  The admission should have shocked her, but it didn’t. It just made her sad that he’d missed so much of the normalcy she’d always taken for granted. “Well, Mr. Morgan, if I can spring for a new suit, you sure as heck can afford some jeans and T-shirts. They’re staples in any parent’s wardrobe. Trust me on this.”

  And wouldn’t his cute little tush look like dynamite in a pair of pre-washed Levi’s!

  BARNABY WAS almost as exuberant as the children, loping behind Megan and Andrew, barking and cavorting, trying to catch up to them as they scurried across the grass of Monongahela Park, situated on the banks of the river by the same name.

  Laughing aloud at the dog’s antics, Meredith said, “That dog has a lot of personality. Megan seems quite fond of him.”

  Adam didn’t see anything the least bit redeeming about the mutt. “He’s a nuisance. I didn’t want to bring him along, but the child—”

  “Better watch it, Morgan. Your soft spot is showing.” She flashed him a teasing grin and watched his cheeks redden.

  “Just because I let you talk me into sitting on the cold ground when there are perfectly fine benches to use—” he knew, because he’d donated the money to buy them “—and just because I can’t stand to hear my niece and nephew wail for hours on end about that damn dog, does not mean I’m soft.”

  Reaching into the picnic basket, she brought forth a peace offering. “Cookie?” When he didn’t respond, she shoved it into her mouth, making appreciative noises. “You don’t know what you’re missing. Mrs. Fishburn makes a darn good oatmeal raisin cookie, which just so happens to be my favorite cookie in the whole wide world.

  “And we’re not sitting on the ground. We’re sitting on a blanket.” Okay, it was a moth-eaten, oil-stained furniture blanket that she’d pulled from the trunk of her car, but it was still a blanket, even if it did smell.

  Eyes fixed on Meredith’s luscious mouth, Adam watched mesmerized as her delicate pink tongue flicked out to snag a crumb from her lower lip, and he decided he’d better do or say something quickly to get his mind off the woman’s provocative mouth. “What I’m missing is work that’s piling up on my desk as we speak. I don’t know how I let you talk me into coming to a park when there’s so much of it to do.”

  She stretched long legs out in front of him, watching with a great deal of satisfaction as his eyes followed the movement and glazed over. “Oh, don’t be such a poop. And it was you who asked me to come, remember?”

  A poop! No one had ever called him that before. Pulling his gaze up to meet her face again—a face that had begun haunting his dreams at night—he replied, “The kids respond better when you’re around.”

  “Why are you so afraid of them? They’re much smaller than you. And I doubt they bite.”

  “I’m not afraid. It’s just—well, the way my sister and I were raised, I—” He shook his head. “Never mind.” Trying to define his upbringing would have been next to impossible. Lilah and Allistair Morgan had a book of etiquette rules a foot thick about acceptable behavior that would have put Dr. Benjamin Spock’s ideas of child rearing to shame. Adam called it the Morgan Pedigree Encyclopedia. “Make the grade or flunk life,” his father’d been fond of saying.

  “Why don’t you play catch with Andrew? I bet he’d love to have his favorite uncle toss the softball around with him.”

  Adam’s face lit, though there was a large measure of uncertainty mixed in as well. “Do you think so? I haven’t had much practice. Even as a child I didn’t play baseball very often.” Actually, not at all…with his father, anyway. Every once in a while he’d been able to convince the gardener to play catch with him, but only when his parents weren’t around.

  “We were forced into golf, tennis, chess—activities my mother thought suitable and that would broaden our horizons.”

  How sad that a parent could stifle a child’s natural ability and exuberance and not even realize it. Or care. “So here’s your chance to show your mom that she was wrong. Baseball’s America’s sport, not chess, and I bet you’ve got a whole lot more motor skills than an eight-year-old boy. I doubt he’ll notice if you don’t catch every ball he tosses at you.”

  Looking unconvinced, Adam nevertheless pushed himself to his feet and took the suggestion she offered, calling out to his nephew, whose eager smile could have lit Wrigley Field.

  A few moments later Megan plopped down on the blanket beside Meredith. She looked adorable in pink-flowered corduroy overalls and matching T-shirt. “You’re sure pretty, Miss Baxter. I hope when I grow up I look just like you.”

  The child’s comment touched Meredith, and she smiled softly. “Thanks, sweetie. But I think you’re already much prettier than I am.”

  Megan frowned, shaking her head. “Uh-uh. My daddy said I was ugly. He called me a monkey, said I was a pain in the—” she pointed to her behind “—just like my mommy.”

  Drawing the child onto her lap, Meredith wished she had Curtis Tremayne in front of her at this very moment. The man really was a heartless fool to say such a terrible thing to his own child.

  Adjusting the little girl’s silver barrette, she inhaled deeply of baby shampoo and grass. “Don’t believe a word of what your father told you, sweetie. You’re a beautiful, smart and loving child. If I had a little girl, I’d want her to be just like you.”

  Her eyes widened. “Really?”

  Meredith nodded. “Sometimes grown-ups have problems and take them out on their children, even if they don’t mean to.”

  “Daddy hurt mommy. She went up to Heaven and won’t be back to see me anymore.” Her eyes filled with tears, and she buried her face in Meredith’s neck, sobbing until the young woman’s heart wanted to break.

  Hugging the grieving child close, Meredith heaved a sigh. She could only imagine the horrors Megan and Andrew had lived through, were still experiencing, because of their mother’s violent death. The children had been upstairs at the time of the attack and hadn’t come upon her near-lifeless body until the following morning. It had been Andrew who’d called 911.

  “I know, sweetheart, and I’m so very sorry. What your father did was terrible, and someday he’ll be punished for it.”

  The little girl wiped her nose with the back of her sleeve. “Just like I’m punished when I do something bad?”

  “Yes.” Meredith decided it was time to change the subject. She didn’t want to say anything bad about Tremayne, though she was tempted. But Curtis Tremayne, for all his ruthlessness and imperfections, was still Megan’s father, and the child no doubt loved him, in spite of what he’d done. Children were loyal like that.

  “Do you like to bake cookies?” she asked, and the little girl’s eyes widened.

  “I don’t know. I’ve never baked cookies before.”

  “You haven’t?” One of her fondest childhood memories was baking cookies
with her mom. Louise Baxter had been a terrific cook. Meredith liked to think she had followed in her footsteps.

  “Well, we’ll just have to fix that, won’t we? As soon as I have some free time, I’ll ask your uncle if you can come over to my house and spend a Saturday. We’ll bake cookies, watch videos and have a great time hanging out.”

  “Really, Miss Baxter?”

  Meredith kissed the bridge of her small nose. “Really, Megan.”

  “Do you think Barnaby can come, too?”

  Yanking playfully on the child’s pigtail, she said, “Don’t know ’bout that, squirt. We’ll see.” She wasn’t sure Harrison would react very kindly to having another male dog in the house. He was very territorial, not to mention a big spoiled baby.

  The child tore off like a shot to relate the good news to her brother and uncle. Adam turned after a moment and stared directly at Meredith. He had the most peculiar look on his face, as if he’d just found the cure for AIDS or had solved the world-hunger problem.

  Meredith felt suddenly like Tweety Bird, who had mistakenly wandered into Sylvester the Cat’s mouth, and she waved airily, trying to shrug off the uneasy feeling that assailed her.

  But there was something about the eccentric millionaire’s knowing, self-satisfied expression that sent shivers of apprehension tripping down her spine.

  Chapter Six

  Yanking on the navy-and-gold WVU football jacket he’d just purchased at the student union the previous day, Randall paused by the front door before leaving for the night. An ambulance on its way to the hospital raced by, sirens blaring, and he raised his voice to be heard above the din.

  “I’ve got hours of study ahead of me, Meredith—there’s a big test tomorrow—so I may be late coming in. Hope that’s okay.”

  “I can handle the Prince of Darkness,” she said with a confident smile, recalling Randall’s new nickname for Adam. “Don’t worry about a thing. Just ace that test. I’m expecting free legal advice when you graduate.” With a wink she waved, watching him disappear into the darkness.

  Moving to close up for the night, she was about to turn the dead bolt when Peter suddenly appeared through the etched glass of the door, accompanied by a blond woman she’d never seen before. Their unexpected presence startled her, and she clutched her chest, deciding in that moment, as her heart beat a wild bongo rhythm that would have impressed Ricky Ricardo, that people could actually die of fright.

  Yanking open the door, Meredith fully intended to give the attorney a piece of her mind for scaring her witless, but then his companion stepped into the light and she noticed the bruises on her face and discoloration around her right eye, and thought better of it. The poor thing had obviously been beaten, and not that long ago from the looks of it.

  “Peter, I wasn’t expecting you.” She took several calming breaths, then smiled at the stranger standing next to him. “That doesn’t mean to say you’re not welcome.” Ushering them inside, she took their coats and tossed them over the back of a chair, continuing a stream of mindless chatter.

  “Meredith, I’d like you to meet Sally Jacobs,” Peter said. There was an odd expression on his face as he made the introduction, the way his voice softened when he said her name, that Meredith found very intriguing.

  The slender young woman with the soft brown eyes appeared to be about her own age. She glanced around the store, eyes darting to every corner, as if she expected the bogeyman to jump out at her at any moment, and Meredith suspected that the bogeyman had been a frequent visitor at Sally Jacobs’s residence.

  “Let me lock the door. That way we won’t be disturbed by anyone,” she said in an effort to reassure her, winning a grateful smile from the attorney.

  “I’m sorry to be so skittish, Miss Baxter,” Sally confessed, looking awkward and embarrassed at her paranoid behavior. “It’s just that—”

  “It’s Meredith. And there’s no need to apologize or explain. I don’t need a crystal ball to see you’ve been having a rough time lately.

  “Come, sit down.” She motioned them to the couch. “There’s still some coffee left in the pot if you’d like some. Though I can’t vouch for the flavor. My assistant’s very fond of flavored coffees, especially anything with chocolate.” Meredith considered Randall’s penchant for sweets admirable but fattening.

  “As you may have already guessed, Sally is a victim of abuse, at her ex-fiancé’s hands.” The mere mention of her former fiancé had the woman cringing, and Peter patted her hand in a comforting fashion, murmuring words of reassurance.

  “I’ve been doing some professional counseling at the woman’s shelter, offering legal advice, trying to help the women get back into the mainstream of society.”

  “Peter’s been absolutely wonderful!” Sally’s face lit up, suddenly transformed by her beaming smile, and Meredith thought she was quite pretty. Actually she thought Sally and Peter made a very attractive couple and wondered if the handsome bachelor thought so, too. Judging by the admiring glances he was casting in her direction, it appeared likely.

  “We’ve just found Sally a small apartment not far from here, and I was wondering if you might be able to help her out with a part-time job. She used to work downtown at Beekman’s Department Store before it closed, so she knows how to operate a cash register and work with customers.”

  Meredith’s heart went out to the battered woman. Her hopeful expression held a large measure of desperation, and it was readily apparent that the woman’s previous requests for employment had been turned down.

  She didn’t waste any time in making a decision. Helping those less fortunate than herself had been ingrained in her since childhood. Her parents hadn’t had much in the way of monetary or material possessions, but what they’d had they’d shared with others.

  “I can’t pay much, minimum wage to start. I already have an assistant, but Randall’s been taking extra time off because of school, so I can use someone to take up the slack. The job’s yours, if you want it.”

  Tears of gratitude filled the woman’s eyes, making Meredith doubly glad she’d made the offer. “I’ll work very hard, Miss…Meredith. You won’t be sorry you hired me.”

  “I’m sure you will, Sally. And I’m happy to have the extra help. It’ll be fun having another woman around here for a change. Randall’s a wonderful friend, but he’s still a man.” They exchanged a knowing look that spoke volumes, making Peter squirm restlessly in his seat. “When can you start?”

  “Would tomorrow be too soon?” The excitement in the young woman’s voice died suddenly, her eyes filling with uncertainty. “I’ll understand if you want me to wait until the bruises fade.” She moved a self-conscious hand to her cheek, and Meredith wanted to lash out at whoever had done this, wondering if the bruises inside the battered woman would ever disappear completely.

  “Don’t be silly,” she reasurred her. “I’ve got pancake makeup in the bathroom that could camouflage the Grand Canyon if we need it to. I use it when my face breaks out.” Which was at least once a month. Zits at twenty-seven! The world was not a fair place.

  The woman’s laughter was rusty, as if she hadn’t used those particular pipes in a while. “Thank you. If it wasn’t for kind people like you, Peter and the folks down at the shelter, I don’t know what I’d have done. I was pretty much at the end of my rope.”

  “Why don’t you take a look around the store?” Peter suggested. “I’m sure Meredith won’t mind, and I’ve got a few more details to work out with her.”

  Sally’s eyes sparkled with excited pleasure. “Oh, can I? I just love anything associated with weddings.” She cast a shy smile in Peter’s direction that made his face flame.

  Optimism in the face of adversity was something Meredith admired greatly; it seemed Sally was an example of that. “Then you’ve definitely come to the right place,” she said. “The bridal gowns and veils are in the back room. Enjoy yourself.”

  After she was out of earshot, Meredith turned to Peter. “Thanks for bringin
g Sally here. She’s going to be a big help. I like her, and I think we’re going to work well together.”

  “You’re a kind woman, Meredith. I’m sorry I dumped this on you so suddenly, especially without calling. Guess I’ve been making a habit of that lately.” He smiled ruefully. “I was desperate. We’d already been turned down by eight different business owners in the last two days. Guess no one wanted to get involved because of the unsavory circumstances. You were my last hope.”

  “That’s what you get for thinking of me last.” She heaved a sigh of mock exasperation. “Men!”

  “Guilty as charged. Speaking of which—how’s it going with Adam? You two getting along okay?”

  Actually, they were getting along better than she’d expected. Who would have guessed Daddy Warbucks could be charming when he put his mind to it? “Adam Morgan is an acquired taste, but I’m getting used to him.”

  “Adam’s a good man. He just needs to find the right woman to make him come alive.”

  “And I’m doing my best to find that woman, counselor. We start the formal interviews next week. My message machine and post office box have been flooded with inquiries. In fact, Sally couldn’t have come at a better time. I expect we’ll get hundreds of phone calls after the Today Show airs next week. I can use her to field the candidates’ calls, weed out the less desirable ones, that sort of thing.”

  Peter nodded, listening with half an ear to Meredith’s plan to videotape the prospective brides, and all the while thinking that the perfect bride for Adam Morgan was standing right before him and she didn’t even know it.

  “WOULD YOU PLEASE look into the video camera that Miss Jacobs is holding and tell me why you want to marry a man you’ve never met before, Miss Fontaine?”

  The big-busted, platinum blond, who’d obviously seen too many Jayne Mansfield movies—not that there were all that many—was, in Meredith’s opinion, a cliché.

  Popping her gum for the umpteenth time, until the wedding consultant wanted to scream, she checked her vampire-length, red-lacquered nails and replied, “I just flew in from Joisey.”