"Well, if all else fails, we can bring in the UN to mediate." Dana added a chuckle to blunt the barb, but the sardonic smile she received from AJ McLean told her that the message had been duly noted.

"Cute," he remarked.

Dana opened her mouth for a second volley, then closed it. Despite her exasperation, and despite the fact that AJ McLean wasn't exactly a male version of Miss Manners, sniping at clients was ill advised. Pity. Oh, how she'd love telling him how she felt about his boorish behavior. The man apparently thought a matinee-idol face and Roman-god physique gave him latitude to act as he pleased. Not in Dana Evans's book it didn't.

In truth, she wasn't sure who annoyed her more – AJ or his whiny fianc้e, Sarah Martin. But she was sure the couple seated across from her at the lace-clothed table was driving her to distraction.

Without a doubt, these two deserved each other. May this union become their own private purgatory, she implored, eyes heavenward, as AJ and Sarah launched into their heated argument over the number of wedding guests and attendants. It was Dana's third meeting with the pair and the previous sessions had been every bit as frustrating and fractious.

Unused to such indecorous conduct, Dana's irritation soared. Never before had she harbored a desire as this one – to be a burly bar bouncer and eject these clients from the premises by the seat of the couturier pants.

"Remember. . .my home can only hold a hundred people," she said, taking a deep breath before interrupting their latest exchange. "Are you positive you want to be married here?" It wasn't the first time she posed the question. The bride-to-be clearly envisioned an affair more elaborate than Torrence Place could accommodate. "Perhaps, a church or a country club where numbers are not a problem." Perhaps the Astrodome or Rice Stadium. "I've–"

"Do you mind?" AJ McLean cast a reproachful scowl in her direction. "I'm having enough trouble getting through to Sarah without having to fight you, too."

If a banana cream pie had been handy, Dana would've gladly thrown it in his arrogant face. And to think how awestruck she'd been with him initially, even going so far as to lamenting how "the good ones are always taken."

That earlier image of AJ McLean was branded in Dana's memory. He'd been heart-stoppingly handsome in a dark custom-tailored suit, crisp white shirt and golden/yellow designer tie, selected no doubt to flatter his long-lashed bright brown eyes and shiny black hair. The effect – dazzling then – was wasted on her now. Exposure to dose after dose of his domineering ways made AJ's looks about as relevant as lips on a snake. Nothing less than a lobotomy could draw Dana to this man again.

But like it or not, she had to put up with him. So she sat there, twisting a strand of strawberry-blonde hair and quietly stewing, all the while wondering if the future held many more scenarios like this one. If so, she might seriously come to question her career choice.

Since childhood, Dana had cherished everything about weddings – the spectacle, the music, the drama of a man and a woman pledging eternal devotion. That's why she'd became a wedding consultant. From the pomp of cathedral events with a host of bridesmaids and an audience of a thousand to the intimacy of cozy affairs with a dozen guests – Dana loved it all. Until this particular bride and groom happened along.

"A hundred's the limit. And one attendant each. One, Sarah." AJ McLean's raised voiced reclaimed Dana's attention. "I'm not budging on this. I've told you all along I wanted a simple service."

"But, darling. . ." Sarah fiddled with her engagement ring – a setting of diamonds and sapphires Dana considered too large and too flashy for comfort or taste – and fluttered her eyelashes at him.

"No 'but darlings,'" he chided, refusing to yield to the eyelashes.

Sarah's lips formed a pout. "I didn't know you meant this simple. It's bad enough that we're putting it together in such a rush. Who knows what everyone will think? Then to have a bare-bones ceremony, too. We might as well as get married by a Justice of a Peace if you're going to limit everything."

"A J.P. sounds great right about now."

"Ohhh, Alex," Sarah wailed. "If you keep talking like that, I just may back out altogether."

Vexation rising, AJ agitatedly jiggled his foot. Why couldn't Sarah understand his desire for a "plain vanilla" wedding? She'd seemed to at first. But now, now she acted more enamored of the process itself than of marrying him. Like all that mattered was putting on the grandest show possible. The comments of this highly recommended wedding planner were definitely not helping. Dana Evans was all too happy aiding and abetting Sarah in her excesses.

"I've tried to address your wishes, Sarah," he said through gritted teeth. "You're the one wanting an extra long honeymoon in Hawaii. And you're the one whose astrologer picked Thursday as 'consistent with your sign.'" At that AJ rolled his eyes. "My calendar's not that flexible. It's stay with this day or–"

"Okay, okay!"

Dana's gaze widened at this rare flash of temper from the young woman. She turned to AJ, who appeared unruffled by the outburst.

"All right, that's settled," he announced. "What's next?"

Not much, Dana thought wryly, only the flowers, cakes, food, drink...myriad details. A dull headache began form in her right temple. As if their being late this morning wasn't inconvenience enough, AJ and Sarah had already been here a hour and all that had been resolved was the number of wedding guests and the size of the wedding party.

Obviously, the fact that she might have other responsibilities did not concern them. Three more appointments awaited her today and from the looks of things, she'd be racing around playing catch up the entire afternoon.

"The officiant?" she suggested, discreetly checking her watch and hoping she'd picked a topic the two wouldn't argue about.

"Reverend Hulse," AJ answered without a glance Sarah's way. "He's an old family friend."

The young woman nodded in benign agreement. Wimp. If Dana were the bride, she'd have told AJ to take a hike, and to take Reverend Hulse with him. The lifting of her hand for a quick kiss, like the one he was bestowing on Sarah, wouldn't have sway her, either – although it worked on Sarah, who smiled at the gesture. No wonder he kept getting his way; he was manipulative as well as stubborn. He was also exceedingly rich.

If AJ's sex appeal wasn't sufficient to hold a fianc้e, there was the added lure of the McLean's dollars, millions of them. Originating with the profits and fame of his celebrity with the pop group, the Backstreet Boys.

So, maybe that devastating combination of affluence and looks caused Sarah to overlook his intimidating ways. Maybe she even rationalized that a major coup like AJ McLean from the bachelor ranks compensated for a probable future of total domination. Undoubtedly, her friends were envious and her family overjoyed that she made such a splendid match.

Dana was not impressed. She longed to fling the man's deposit back at him with instructions on just where to put it. Unfortunately, she didn't have the luxury of telling him off. His was the fattest fee she'd ever received for a wedding and she desperately needed the cash. A humongous plumbing bill had arrived in the morning mail, then there was – Take it easy, she scolded. Now isn't the time to worry about that. Not while you have these two on your hands.

As she strove for inner calm, Dana concentrated on the benefits this wedding would bring her and her company. So the bride was a sniveler and the groom terminally obnoxious, the marriage would receive abundant media coverage, free advertising to generate new clients.

"Next item?"

AJ's question interrupted Dana's musings. She looked down at the notes in her lap. "The actual ceremony will be held in the gazebo. . .right?"

Surprisingly, both AJ and Sarah nodded in agreement. "You will, of course, be prepared to shift everything inside in the event of rain?" he asked.

"Of course," Dana echoed, plastering a false smile on her face. What did he want – a blood oath? She'd already assured him that contingency plans were in place. The outdoor ceremony were scheduled for mid-April – a mere three weeks from today – and spring weather were unpredictable in Houston. But that was beside the point. As if I had to be told how to do my job, Dana thought, her sensibilities continuing to rankle. While AJ McLean might know everything there was to know about making money and the maybe the music industry even, he was no expert on weddings. From all she'd heard, he'd spent the better part of his life avoiding them.

"Why don't we move on to food and drink, and after that, the flowers?" Dana said, affecting a pleasant tone.

AJ's watch beeped and he glanced down at the dial. "'Fraid we'll have to table that for now. I have a meeting with the record company in twenty minutes. We'll call you to set up another get-together." He stood, holding his hand out to Sarah to assist her from her chair. Within seconds, they were gone.

Dana lingered at her front door watching them drive off in AJ's silver Lexus coupe and wondering if the three of them could come to terms before the day of the reckoning. She could envision the wrangling still going on as the processional began.

Maybe she should insert a clause in future contracts restricting the number of planning sessions. She couldn't afford to have multiple meetings on every point. But in this case, she reminded herself, she couldn't afford not to. No matter how disagreeable these clients, there were generous profits to be banked. Profits she needed. The wolves just weren't at the door – they were already inside the house, nipping at her heels.

Speaking of wolves nipping. . .She dashed to the study for her purse and her car keys. She was overdue for a meeting with her banker to talk about a loan for Phase Two of the upstairs renovations.

It was after seven when Dana drove home down Heights Boulevard to Torrence Place. The walkers and joggers on the grassy esplanade that divided the boulevard gave a semblance of normalcy to what had been a truly demanding day, emotionally and physically. First AJ and Sarah, than the loan officer advising her it would be unwise to invest anymore capital until her business "matured" – whatever that meant, then scrambling to make a bridal show at a northside mall, and zigzagging through rush hour traffic to attend an open house at a new restaurant courting reception business.

She discarded her suit jacket and kicked off her shoes with a grateful "aah" the minute she got in the rear door. The tail of her silk blouse had already been freed from her skirt and the buttons undone when the doorbell rang.

"What now?" she groaned, hastily trying to put herself back together.

AJ could see her shadowy approach through the lead-glass door panel. He'd sooner be sitting in his dentist's chair undergoing a root canal, as be here on Dana Evans's porch preparing to eat crow. But he had no choice. He had acted abominably this morning, subjecting the wedding consultant to his rotten humor. So Sarah was grating on him lately. That was nobody's fault but his own. . .certainly not Dana Evans's.

AJ wasn't the only one dreading this encounter. As soon as she saw who it was, Dana wished she remained in the rear, pretending not to be home.

His eyes slowly took her in, the stockinged feet, blouse hanging over her skirt, then he smiled, making Dana all too aware of her disheveled state. "Sorry to barge in," he said, handing her a huge bouquet of pink tulips. "But I wanted to bring a peace offering. I've worried all day about how discourteous Sarah and I were to you this morning, being late, then involving you in our petty squabbles. My apologies."

Dana hesitantly acknowledged the flowers. "I'm used to. . .nerves," she said, the pause giving away the fact that she believed his having an attack of pre-wedding nerves was about as likely as his fretting over what had transpired today. At least he's attempting to make amends.

"Please don't give it another thought," she added graciously, stoking one of the tulip petals.

"Then we're all squared away?"

"Of course."

For an instant he stood there looking as if he wanted to say more, but instead he mumbled "Great" before turning and trotting back down the steps. He was almost to the curb when Dana shut the door.

Chapter 2
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