Mac dug out her PDA, keyed in her calendar. “I’ve got a couple of openings this week, a clearer road next. Why don’t you check with Nick, give me some dates and times that work for you. We’ll juggle it in.”
“This is just awesome.”
“You’ll want to look at sample wedding photos,” Mac began.
“I looked at them on the website, like Parker said I should.
And the pictures of the flowers, the cakes and stuff. I want it all.”
“Why don’t we take a look at the different packages,” Parker suggested. “To see what might suit you. We can always tailor one of them for you.”
“This is where I need Carter. Nick said I should go with whatever I want, but that doesn’t help.”
Damn it again, Carter thought. “Sherry, I don’t know anything about this sort of thing. I just—”
“It’s scary to decide by myself.” She gave him the big-eyed, helpless look that had worked on him since she’d been two. “I don’t want to make a mistake.”
“You don’t have to decide now.” Parker kept her tone light and easy. “And even if you do, then change your mind later, it’s no problem. You’ll have specific consults, with each of us individually. That’ll help. And we can just hold the date for now, and you can sign the contract later.”
“I’d really like to sign today, just to get that checked off the list. There’s so much. Just an opinion, Carter, that’s all.”
“Why don’t you take a look at the options?” Smiling, Parker handed him a binder, opened to the section on packages. “Meanwhile, Sherry, have you decided between a band or a DJ?”
“DJ. We thought it’d be looser, and we could work with him or her, I guess, on the playlist. Do you know anybody good?”
“I do.” Out of another folder, Parker pulled a business card.
“He’s done a lot of events here, and I think he’ll suit you. Give him a call. Videographer?”
On the sofa, Carter pulled out his reading glasses, frowned down at the packages.
So serious, Mac thought. And the nerd sex quotient telescoped up with the wire-rim glasses. He actually looked like a guy studying for an exam. Since Parker and Sherry had their heads together, she decided to give him a break.
“Hey, Carter, maybe you can help me get some more coffee.” He blinked up at her, blue eyes framed in dull silver wire. “Bring the binder, okay?”
She picked up the pretty coffeepot, strolled to the doorway to wait for him. He had to skirt around the coffee table and, she noted, barely missed rapping his shin on it.
“Rest of the team can handle it from here,” she told him. “Your sister figures since you’re big brother, and standing in for the groom, she needs your input. Which, I also figure, she’ll kick to the curb if it doesn’t jibe with what she wants.”
“Okay,” he said as they walked back to the kitchen. “Can I just close my eyes and put my finger on the menu here, be done with it?”
“You could. But what you should do is tell her you think Number Three works best.”
“Number Three.” He laid the binder on the kitchen counter, adjusted his glasses, then read the description. “Why, particularly?”
“Because while it’s very inclusive—and I get the sense she wants somebody else to deal with the fine details—it leaves room for upgrading, and gives her a number of options inside the package. You should also tell her to pick the buffet over the plated meal in that package. Because,” she said before he could ask, “it’s more informal, gives more opportunity for mixing. It suits her. Then, down the road—when you’re out of it, she’ll meet with Laurel about the cake—flavors, design, size, and all that, and Emma about the flowers. Parker handles the rest, and believe me when I tell you she handles. Right now it’s all so big. Once she nails the package, seeing as she’s already got the dress, the venue, me, and so on, she’ll be able to think about the rest of it.”
“Okay.” He nodded. “Okay, so I tell her go with Number Three. It covers a lot of the details, has room for upgrading. It has a lot of options included. And she should take the buffet because it’s friendlier, and encourages mixing.”
“You’re good.”
“Absorbing facts and text is easy. If she asks me to help her decide on bouquets, I’m bolting.”
“I respect that.” She handed him the coffeepot. “They don’t need me at this point. Take this