Vision In White - By Nora Roberts Page 0,99

camera off the tripod.

“Aren’t you going to let me see?”

“Not until I’m finished fussing with them. Then you can consider the print the second part of your present.”

“I was hoping I’d get that when you finished work.”

“Why, Dr. Maguire.” She repacked her camera. “All right, we’ll call it a three-parter.”

He rose to help her on with her coat. Mac hefted her equipment bag. “Now you have to wait.”

“I’m good at it,” he said and opened the door for her.

Apparently he was, she thought, and set off for the main house at a lope.

“I DON’T KNOW HOW TO GET OUT OF IT, BUT THERE HAS TO BE A way.”

“Mac.” Parker held the champagne flute up to the light to check for spots before setting it on the table in the Bride’s Suite. “It’s just dinner.”

“It is not. You know it’s not just. It’s meet-the-parents dinner. Family dinner.”

“You’ve been seeing Carter for about two months now. It’s time.”

“Where is that written down?” Mac demanded. “I want to see where that’s written down in a rule book.” She flopped the napkins down in a way that had Parker sighing, then arranging them properly. “You know what it means when a man takes you home to meet his mother.”

“Yes, I do. It means he wants two women who are an important part of his life to get to know each other. He wants to show both of them off.”

“I don’t want to be shown off. I’m not a poodle. Why can’t we just keep things the way they are? Him and me.”

“It’s called a relationship. Look it up.”

Laurel came in on the tail end with a plate of fruit and cheese. “If you’re going to be such an ass about it, Mac, why didn’t you just say no?”

“Hello, diamond earrings.” Mac lifted both hands, pointed her fingers at the dangling hearts. “I was blinded by the sparkle. Plus, he was sneaky, and he asked oh-so casually after I said we had an early event today and we should do something together after. He trapped me into it.”

“Ass,” Laurel said.

“I know. Do you think I don’t know that? Knowing it, even knowing the ass is rooted in mother phobia doesn’t make it less real.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Parker agreed. “You could have said the same to him.”

“It’s important to him. I could see it through the oh-so casual. He deserves someone who’d go to family dinner and meet his mother. I wish it was later, or that it had happened last week and was over—but they were in Spain last week, apparently. Not that it matters because if it had been last week, I’d wish it was the week before.”

“We know her too well,” Laurel decided. “Because I know both of us followed that.”

“Every time I think I have a handle on this, and one on myself, something new crops up. And you know they’re all going to be checking me out, talking about me.”

“Personally, I think it’s good to get it done in one big splash.” Laurel stepped back, studied the table. “Dive in all at once into the big family pool. Easier and quicker than going in inch by inch.”

“That’s actually a good point,” Mac said after a moment.

“You’re good with people,” Parker pointed out. “Getting them to talk about themselves, figuring them out. Do that.”

“Also a good point. And bright side, maybe this nice, intimate wedding will turn into an all-night drunken brawl.”

“The FOB looked like a troublemaker,” Laurel commented.

Cheered, Mac draped her arms over her friends’ shoulders. “I’ll just think positive thoughts. I guess we should go down and help Emma finish. It’s almost showtime.”

THERE WAS NO DRUNKEN BRAWL, AND NO ESCAPE. MAC COULD be grateful she’d insisted on meeting Carter at his parents’ home, so she had the drive alone, a little time to calm down.

Diving into the pool, she reminded herself. And she was a strong swimmer. Generally. She followed the directions Carter had given her, complete with landmarks, into the pretty, settled neighborhood.

Exactly what she’d expected, she realized. Solid New England home, on the upper-middle-class side of things. Patches of melting snow over generous lawns, old trees full of character, tidy hedges, neat fences.

Dignified, but not stuffy. Well-to-do but not showy.

God, what was she doing here?

Swallowing hard, she pulled into the left of the double drive, parked behind Carter’s Volvo. A lot of cars, she thought. An awful lot of cars beside the sturdy, two-story house with its comfortable sitting porch.

She started to flip down the vanity mirror, check

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