must be angling for a raise.
“WE CAN’T FIND the best man,” Mr. Stanhope hissed into Karen’s ear.
So far, everything for the Stanhope wedding had been going smoother than a chocolate milkshake. This was her first lump. “Has he answered his cell phone?”
“I don’t think so.”
“I’ll get right on it. In the meantime, Mr. Stanhope, remember, you hired me to take care of problems. I’ll stall the bridal party.” Her calm manner and soothing smile had their desired effect. The father of the bride’s high color receded and he nodded, standing straighter in his tux.
“Glad to have you onboard.”
“We may need to call in a stand-in, but I promise, you’ll have a best man for your daughter’s wedding.
“Keep an eye on things out front,” she whispered to Dee, then, without any visible haste, she walked from the front of the church and out into the parking lot. Guests were still arriving but the bridal party was scheduled to pull up in fifteen minutes.
She slipped into her car and reached for the Stanhope wedding binder. In it was all the information she could possibly need, including home and cell numbers for the missing man.
She called both and was invited twice to leave a message. Which she did. Not good.
She then called the driver of the limousine bringing the bridal party to the church and asked him to take a detour. “I need five extra minutes.”
“No problem.”
Having stalled the bride, she left her car and slipped into the church through a side entrance. She knew her way around most of the churches and synagogues of the city. She made her way to the anteroom where the groom and his party would be waiting.
The groom looked a little pale, but steady. He glanced up when she entered. “I’m going to kill Brian. He promised he’d be here.”
“Does he have issues with punctuality?”
“Not usually.”
Her cell phone rang. “Ah.” Sure enough, it was the best man. “Flat tire,” he panted. “I went to change it, but that is my spare.”
“Where are you?”
He named a location that was a good five minutes away. “Are you dressed to go?”
“Yep.”
“All right. I’ll come and get you.”
She turned to the groom. “Appoint a stand-in just in case.”
“But the ring?”
She slipped a plain gold band from her right hand. “I always carry a spare.” Then she smiled at him. “Good luck.”
“Thanks.”
She sprinted to her car and made her way out of the parking lot, now quieting as most of the guests had arrived. She was in time to see Sophie Vanderhooven step out of a Lincoln, Dexter behind her. She supposed she should have known Sophie would bring a stand-in for her fiancé who was still working in Italy.
Since she felt it would be rude to drive by a paying client, she drew to a stop and rolled down her window. The autumn day was crisp and cold and tonight the temperature was forecast to dip.
“You look lovely, Sophie,” she said. The blue woolen suit was both stylish and classic, rather like Sophie herself.
“Thanks. I can’t wait to see Melissa get married.”
“Do you drive away before all the ceremonies?” Dex asked her.
Now that he’d addressed her directly, she had to look at him and nothing in the world could stop the warm blush that heated her cheeks as their little tussle in her office roared back to her.
She forced a smile, though no one could have called it cool. “Of course not. Just a little wedding business to take care of. I’ll see you later.” And with a wave of her hand she drove past.
DEX SQUINTED as he turned to watch Karen drive away. He’d made her blush. Good. It was a start.
“What’s going on, Dex?”
He turned back to his date. “What do you mean?”
Sophie scanned his face. “I’m not sure, but you were looking at Karen the way—well, the way Andrew looks at me. I guess that’s why I recognized the expression.”
“She’s a very attractive woman.”
“And she was blushing.” She grabbed his hand and began walking toward the church. “And there’s this sort of energy field when you two are together. I noticed it when we first met her. I wasn’t born yesterday, Dex. Something’s up with you two. What is it?”
The slim hand in his was friendly, but firm. He suspected he wouldn’t get away with anything but the truth. “You’re pretty smart for a socialite.”
“I know. And I smell a delicious secret. Come on, spill. I won’t tell anyone.”
“I’ve never yet met a woman who didn’t break that promise.”
The patrician nose wrinkled. “Can I tell Andrew if it’s good?”
Andrew was the son of a famous wine-making family in Italy. He’d hired Dexter’s firm to renovate the family’s Park Avenue town house and during the project, the two had become friends. They played squash, moved in similar social circles and, instead of dropping him when Andrew and Sophie got engaged, the couple had tried setting him up with a series of single women.
They knew he’d been married before, but he’d never offered them much in the way of details. Hadn’t thought it would matter. Now, he knew that his past did matter.
The past had just caught up with him.
“The truth is that Karen and I used to be married.”
If he was into shocking people he’d have been gratified by the way Sophie’s mouth fell open so far he could see all her expensive dental work. He’d never seen a mouth with such perfectly straight molars.
When she’d recovered enough to close her mouth, she said, “But I don’t get it. Why? What?” She heaved a sigh. “What’s your plan?”
The pavement seemed to tick under Sophie’s heels, sounding like a clock counting seconds. “I don’t know. Honestly, I didn’t have a plan. Don’t have one. I thought it would be cool to surprise Karen, but—”
“The force field got to you.” She shook her head. “That is some powerful chemistry between you two.”
She was right. The moment Karen had stepped out of her office and he’d seen her
