“You’re forgetting I took care of Ginger for a few years. I cooked and everything. I know exactly what she’ll eat.”

She studied him. “I’m trying to picture you in an apron.”

He chuckled. “Never wore one of those.”

“I’ll talk to Ana Raquel and have her put together a menu combining tropical and Mexican foods. She makes a Black Bean Soup with Lime Cream that is to die for.”

“Then we need that for sure.”

Madeline made some notes. “It’s Thanksgiving tomorrow, so let’s say by Tuesday of next week? Are you going to be around?”

He nodded. “I’m driving to San Francisco this afternoon to have dinner with Ginger, then I’m heading back.”

“Which means the timing is perfect.” She pulled out another folder, then handed him several wedding invitations. “These are all the samples I could pull together on such short notice. If you don’t like any of them, I’ll get some more.”

He laid out the invitations. They were all on thick card stock. Several had a picture of the couple and he immediately dismissed those. While they were nice enough, there wasn’t time to get a photo taken.

“Which do you like?” he asked.

* * *

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Madeline knew that she was helping with his sister’s wedding, but it was still strange to be asked her opinion on something like wedding invitations. Now if it had been a veil, she would have been more comfortable with her choice. Still, she stood and leaned over the desk. She’d looked at the samples as they’d come in and already had a few favorites.

“These are nice,” she said, pointing. “This one is a layered package, with different cards tucked into one envelope. You can do the invitation on one card, provide information on where to stay on another, have a map to your place.”

She tapped another one. “I’ll admit it. I’m a sucker for laser cutting. I think the lace effect on the paper is spectacular, but hey, I sell wedding gowns for a living. If I didn’t revel in lace, I’d be in the wrong profession.”

He laughed. “Good point.”

He considered her choices, then pulled out one that had a vintage feel and was cut to look like an unrolled scroll. “I like this one. I’ll take her all three and she can pick one tonight. I’ll get them ordered first thing.”

“Would you send me the confirmation when you do?” she asked, sitting back down and making a note on a pad of paper. “That way I can move it from the to-do list to the pending list.”

“There’s a pending list?”

“Yes, and a completed list, although, so far, that’s blank.”

“Once the menus are finalized, you can move that over.”

She sighed. “You have no idea how much I’m looking forward to that happening.” She wrote a couple more notes, then closed her folder. “That’s all I have. If you’re going to be busy with Ginger, I can order the invitations, once she chooses the one she wants.”

He was a famous guy. He had to have places to go and people to see.

“I’ll do it.” He leaned back in his chair. “Won’t you have family over the holidays?”

Madeline smiled. “I will. My parents have already flown in. As we speak, my mother is baking in my kitchen.”

“Is that good or bad?”

“It’s wonderful. She’ll make cookies and brownies and cakes. I’ll gain five pounds and every one is worth it.”

“Nice,” he said. “How many in the family?”

“I have one brother and a niece. Robbie lost his wife to cancer several years ago.” The whole family had been devastated, Madeline thought, remembering the sadness of it all. “We’ve always been close, which I’m hoping helped them.” She shook off the memories.

“My parents are older. My mom had Robbie ten months after she got married, but she couldn’t get pregnant a second time. They’d pretty much given up when I came along.” She thought about all the stories she’d been told. “Robbie was seventeen when Mom announced she was pregnant and eighteen when I was born. He admits he was pretty horrified to realize his parents were still having sex.”

“So you were a surprise.”

“Yes, but they swear I was a good one.”

“You had to be.”

She laughed. “I’m sure I was a challenge, but my parents were always there for me. We have great traditions and I’m really close with my niece. Jasmine is only eight years younger than me. We text all the time. She’s going to die when she finds out you’re in town.”




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