Savour the Moment: Now the Big Day Has Finally Arrived, It's Time To... by Nora Roberts Page A

himself.
    Where the hell had all these cars come from? he wondered. It was Tuesday night, and he couldn’t remember anything on Vows’ slate. He swung off to park by Mac’s studio, got out, frowned at the house. No question an event was in progress. He could see Emma’s handiwork in lavish displays around the portico, and hear—even from the distance—the clatter and voices of a party going on.
    For a moment, he simply stood where he was, watching. Lights glowed in the windows, turning the house into a welcoming celebration. Hospitality, with an elegant flair. It had always been. His parents had loved to entertain—small intimate gatherings, big flashy parties. He supposed Parker came by her skills there naturally. Yet when he came home unexpectedly—and it was still home—he’d feel that quick tug, that poignant sorrow for what he’d lost. For what they’d all lost.
    He took the path, wound his way home, choosing the side door with its easy access to the family kitchen.
    He’d hoped to find Mrs. Grady there, fussing at the stove, but a single light burned in the empty kitchen. He wandered to the window, watched some of the guests who’d gathered on the terrace, strolled the gardens.
    Relaxed, at home, impressed, he judged. Infusing an event with those qualities was another Parker skill, or the blend the Quartet combined.
    He caught sight of Emma and a few of the catering staff he recognized carrying linens, flowers. A last-minute adjustment, he assumed, then watched as they set up a table. Quick, efficient, he noted, with Emma chatting with some of the guests. All smiles and warmth—that was Emma. No one would know her mind was scrambling toward the next duty.
    Emma and Jack, he mused. Now that was a last-minute adjustment for him. His closest friend and one of his girls. Even as he considered it, Jack came out carrying a tray of tea lights. Pitching in, Del thought, as they all pitched in from time to time. But it was different, he thought. And it occurred to him that this was the first time since Emma and Jack became ‘Emma and Jack’ that he’d observed them when they weren’t aware of him.
    The look that passed between them, yes, that was different. The way Jack brushed a hand down her arm, casual and intimate, the way a man did when he simply needed to touch what he loved.
    A good thing, he decided, what was between them. And he’d get used to it—eventually.
    Meanwhile, he was here, there was a party. He might as well head up to the Ballroom and pitch in, too.

    SHE’D BAKED LIKE A MANIAC, LAUREL THOUGHT, AND THERE WAS little more satisfying than seeing that work devoured. Now that the cake had been cut, dessert plates arranged, she left the serving to the caterers and took a minute to catch her breath. Music rolled, and those not swarming the dessert tables took advantage. Dozens more gathered at tables, most still tossing back ouzo.
    Opa!
    Happy, happy, she thought, everything under control. And the perfect time to slip away for five minutes and take off her shoes. She scanned for any potential problems as she moved to the door.
    “Ms. McBane?”
    Just this close, she thought, but turned and put on her professional smile. “Yes, what can I do for you?”
    “Nick Pelacinos.” He offered a hand. “Cousin of the bride-to-be.”
    And fairly gorgeous, she thought, shaking his hand. All bronzed Greek godlike with molten amber eyes and cleft chin. “It’s nice to meet you. I hope you’re enjoying yourself.”
    “I’d be a fool not to.You throw a hell of a party. I know you must be busy, but my grandmother would like a word with you. She’s holding court over there.”
    He gestured to the head table, crowded with people, drinks, food, flowers—and unquestionably ruled over by the steel-haired, laser-eyed matriarch. The grandmother, Laurel thought.
    “Sure.” She walked with him, wondering if she should signal Parker for backup.
    “She and my grandfather only come to the States every year