The Wedding Planner

“Randall got an A on his criminal law test.”

Louise’s smile couldn’t have been prouder had she been the law student’s mother. “I know. He came by to visit earlier and brought me a half-dozen chocolate chip cookies. Wasn’t that sweet? He’s such a nice boy.”

Meredith knew what to expect next, and she braced herself for it. Her mom made the same speech at least once a week. “I don’t know why you don’t think about dating him, Merry. A girl could do a lot worse.”

Knowing Randall’s dating preferences ran in a different direction from her own, Meredith smiled patiently at the suggestion. “We’re just friends, Mom. I’ve told you that before.”

“I want to see you married and settled before I die, honey. I don’t want to go to my grave knowing you’ll be left all alone.”

“Now, Mom, you know I’m not going to let you die, so you needn’t worry about that,” Meredith said, wishing she really had that kind of divine power. At this point she’d settle for a magic wand—one she could wave and, with a flick of her wrist, cure her mother’s heart ailment, find herself a Prince Charming and locate Adam Morgan a bride, so she could get the annoying man out of her hair.

“I’ll get married in my own good time, and you’ll be around to spoil the heck out of your grandchildren.”

At her mother’s sharp gasp, Meredith followed her gaze to the small television set suspended from a ceiling bracket in the far corner of the room. Adam was being interviewed on a segment of the local news about his plan to wed.

A handsomer man did not exist on the face of the planet, Meredith was sure of it, and she tried to ignore how the sound of his deep voice had the power to send tingles up and down her spine.

“What on earth is that odious man up to now?” Louise asked, not bothering to hide her dislike.

She fought the urge to groan. Her mother blamed the Morgans for her husband’s death due to black lung disease, a condition he’d developed while working in the Morgan coal mines. Meredith had hoped to postpone the discussion of her newest client until she could figure out a way to break the news gently to her mother. Only now that wouldn’t be possible.

“Isn’t it a bit unorthodox to plan a wedding without a bride, Mr. Morgan?” Bill Simmons of WNPB News asked.

“A wedding? He’s getting married?” Shaking her head in disbelief, Louise added, “Who would marry such a man? The poor woman must really be hard up.”

“Uh, Mom, there’s something we need to talk about—” But before Meredith could elaborate, Adam Morgan took the words right out of her mouth.

“I’ve hired Best Laid Plans to organize everything, from the bridal selection to the reception. Together we’re planning a big event to mark my departure from bachelorhood to happily married man.”

Adam was smooth, she’d give him that. She only wished she had his facility with words, especially now, since her mother was staring at her as if she were Judas Iscariot in the flesh.

“How could you, Meredith? You know how I feel about the Morgans. They killed your father—they ruined our lives.”

Louise Baxter’s face was unnaturally flushed, and Meredith knew that any kind of excitement or stress wasn’t good for her. “I was hoping to prepare you, Mom. I didn’t know Morgan would be interviewed so quickly.” She crossed to the bed, plumping the foam pillows behind the ailing woman’s back. “Now take a deep breath and calm down, or I’ll ring for the nurse to give you a sedative.”

Despite the obstinate set to her chin, Louise did as instructed, much to Meredith’s relief. “I don’t understand any of this, Merry.”

“It’s just business, Mom. I needed the money that Morgan was willing to pay. I’ve got inventory to purchase, payroll to make, and Adam Morgan’s offer was too good to refuse. After all, I do plan weddings for a living, and he is getting married.”

“Rich people always get what they want.”

“He doesn’t seem like a bad guy. A little nutty perhaps, but not altogether bad. Morgan needs to marry quickly in order to gain custody of his niece and nephew.

“You remember how brutally his sister was murdered, leaving those two kids at the mercy of their deranged father?” Louise tsked loudly, indicating she did. “Well, Adam Morgan is planning to adopt them and provide a stable home.” How stable, Meredith couldn’t be certain. After all, they’d be living with him. And he wasn’t exactly what she would call sane by normal definitions.

“Allistair Morgan was scum. I’m sure his son is the same. Blood always tells.”

Louise had more to say, but one of the nurses came in just then with her dinner, and Meredith was provided a reprieve, which she took without hesitation.

Kissing her mother goodbye, she said, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Mom. I’ve got to get home and fix dinner for myself, let Harrison out before he pees on the floor.” Harrison, her golden retriever, was named after Harrison Ford because he was so darn cute, and because Meredith had had a huge crush on the actor ever since Han Solo had piloted his way into her impressionable young heart.

“You be careful, Merry. And get all of your money in advance. Don’t trust Adam Morgan.”

Assuring her mother that she would only trust the man as far as she could spit, which wasn’t all that far—she knew that, because she and her next door neighbor Ricky Trumble used to have spitting contests when they were kids—Meredith hurried out the door and headed for home.

PULLING INTO HER GRAVEL driveway ten minutes later, Meredith set the brake on the red Mitsubishi Eclipse and gathered up her things.

The amber light from the front porch lamp illuminated Peter Webber’s handsome face. He was sitting on the brick steps blocking her door, holding a huge paper bag on his lap that smelled suspiciously like Chinese food the closer she approached. Her stomach, apparently forgetting the wonderful lunch she’d shared with the Morgans only hours before, roared appreciatively in response.

“Hi, Meredith. Hope you don’t mind me darkening your doorstep without calling, but I neglected to get your business card before I left Adam’s, and I didn’t have your home phone number.”

“If that’s Chinese food, and if you’ve brought enough to share, then you’re forgiven.” Unlocking the door, she invited him in, and they were immediately assaulted by Harrison, who was as eager to greet them as he was to rush out the door to take care of pressing matters.

“Did you see Adam’s interview?” He unloaded the small white cartons of delicious-smelling food onto the green-lacquered table in her kitchen. Like the rest of the house, the room was cozy, which was Meredith’s euphemistic way of saying microscopic.

“It was a last-minute thing, so I went ahead without consulting you. Hope that was all right.”

She waved away the objection and got down a couple of plates from the cupboard, fishing in the drawer for silverware and hoping to find forks that weren’t horribly mismatched. Her housewares, like her furniture, were what Meredith referred to as eclectic, which sounded so much nicer than mishmash or garage-sale specials.

“I’m only involved in this media blitz because Adam wanted me to be. I’m not comfortable in the spotlight.”

Peter seemed surprised. “As pretty as you are? I find that hard to believe.”

The unexpected compliment took her off guard, and she smiled with a great deal of uncertainty. “Give me five minutes and you’ll see just how hideous I really am.”

Hurrying into her bedroom, Meredith tore off the uncomfortable suit and pantyhose and slipped on a pair of faded red sweats that had seen better days. Stuffing her aching feet into furry slippers that resembled white bunny rabbits whose whiskers moved when she did, she thought about removing her makeup, but decided against it. The poor man wasn’t ready for such a shock before dinner.

Meredith emerged to find that the attorney had let the dog back inside and was now lying supine on the living room floor, trying to get the one-hundred-fifty-pound canine off his chest.

Harrison considered anything on the floor fair game, including, and most especially, people. “Harrison, leave Peter alone. It’s time for dinner. Now go to your blanket. Shoo!”

The dog obeyed, but not before getting in one last swipe of his tongue down Peter’s face. The attorney laughed, mopping up Harrison’s exuberance with what used to be a clean white hankie. “Guess my idea of playing and your dog’s are two different things. I’ve never been much good at wrestling. Is he always this friendly?”

She shook her head. “No, not always. He’s very protective when the need arises, but he likes most people, especially when he finds one brave enough to crawl around on the floor with him.”

Peter took a seat at the table situated near the window and began serving himself out of the cardboard containers. “Your attempt to make yourself ugly didn’t work,” he remarked, his grin teasing.

Meredith choked on her eggroll and reached for the glass of iced tea next to her plate. She liked Peter, hoped they would be friends, but that instant sexual attraction required for any good relationship was missing between them, unlike the spark that had ignited when Adam Morgan first stepped into her life.

Just her luck to be attracted to a nerdy businessman instead of a suave, handsome attorney.

“I bet you say that to all the ugly girls,” she quipped. “Now pass the sesame chicken and tell me what evil media things you’ve conjured up for our prospective bridegroom.”

WHILE MEREDITH AND PETER consumed gargantuan proportions of moo shoo pork, fried rice and steamed dumplings, the prospective bridegroom was having a difficult time concentrating on the paperwork in front of him.

As he mulled over P & Ls and production-cost analyses, Adam kept seeing Meredith’s face, her incredibly long legs, her firm, lush breasts…

“Damn!” he cursed, his erotic musings having had the predictable effect. Moving restlessly to the window, he gazed out.