catering, and our contracts are cov¬eted and everyone is eager to impress us, so almost all of the caterers are willing to hire extra staff and do whatever is necessary. They're no doubt hoping to make enough of an impression to get future con¬tracts."
"Really?" Terri perked up. Perhaps all was not lost.
"They're all vying for the job. I've sent out copies of the desired menu, and each of them is working up competitive prices and arranging to send sample meals over to be tried. Bastien or you, or both of you, can decide who to go with. That probably won't be until later tomorrow, though." There was a pause, then Meredith added, "I know Kate should probably make the choice, but as she's in California, and this has to be arranged and decided at once so that the provisions can be ordered, it--"
"It will have to be us," Terri finished. She paused, biting her lip. "Meredith, I'm thinking that, since she can't make the choice, and since this news would just stress her out--"
"And at a time when she's already under a great deal of pressure," Meredith put in.
Terri felt herself relax. It sounded like the secretary had the same idea, but she said it just the same: "Do you think we should just keep this to ourselves? Bastien and I can choose the best price and meal, and Kate doesn't really even have to know about it if all goes well."
There was a pause on the other end of the line. Whether it was because Meredith was considering the question, or because she was surprised that Terri would even ask her opinion on a family matter, Terri didn't know.
"I think that--judging by how upset she was over the floral incident--keeping this from her might be the best decision," Meredith announced at last.
"Yes, I think it's best," Terri said, then hesitated before saying, "Since you're now a co-conspirator, would you care to be in on the taste testing when the sample meals show up?"
"Oh. Oh, that's so nice, but... no, I couldn't." The woman was obviously flustered. "But thank you."
"Are you sure?" Terri asked.
"Yes. Thank you," Meredith repeated, a hint of warmth creeping into her previously cool and efficient tone. "I'll leave that up to yourself and Mr. Argeneau."
"Well, if you change your mind, let me know," Terri said. "And thank you, Meredith. I fully ex¬pected to spend the day calling caterer after caterer to deal with this, but you've handled it all and left noth-ing but the eating, which is the fun part. Bastien's very lucky to have you working for him."
There was a soft expelling of breath on the other end of the phone. "Thank you, Ms. Simp--"
"Call me Terri."
"Thank you, Terri," Meredith said. "It's always nice to be appreciated."
"Well, you certainly are that," she told her, then thanked her again. Saying good-bye, she hung up.
"Was that Meredith?"
Terri glanced up from the receiver she'd just set in the cradle to find Bastien in the doorway to the pent¬house office. "Yes, it was," she admitted, getting to her feet and moving around the desk. "She's arranged for price quotes and sample meals from the best caterers in New York. We decided that, since Kate isn't here to taste them, which means you and I will have to in her place, there's no reason to even tell her about the change--unless something goes terribly wrong at the wedding." She paused and raised her eyebrows. "How did it go at QIC's apartment? Are any of the flowers salvageable?"
Bastien raised a bag he was holding, grasped both handles, and opened it wide for her to peer inside. Terri tipped her head and peered down at several boxes of Kleenex.
"Darn," she breathed, knowing what that meant.
"There are several more bags out in the living room," he told her dryly. "And some string."
Terri closed her eyes, then opened them again. Rais¬ing her head, she peered at him. "None of them were salvageable?"
"The garbage bags were ripped by the ceiling cav¬ing in, and the pipes poured water down on them, ap¬parently turning them into tissue stew. The landlady had them carted out with the rubble when they cleared it away."
"Ah."
"The good news is, I rented several movies to watch while we make the flowers. That was the sales-clerk's suggestion when I asked how much Kleenex I needed to make flowers for a wedding," he admitted, following her out of the office.
"Clever girl, suggesting that," Terri commented. In the living room, she saw the collection of