Нора Робертс - Vision in White

She let them be, he realized. How they were and who they were.

She tapped her headset. “Groom’s heading in. We’re on the move.”

Solidarity wasn’t the theme here, Carter noted, as the best man didn’t arrive with his brother. Mac did her work, in the cold, with her breath wisping vapors.

“Groom’s coming up,” she said into headset. “CBBM among the missing. Got it.” She turned to Carter. “We’ve set a lookout for the asshole. I’m going to go set for the formal gown portraits. Why don’t you find Jack and Del, relax awhile?”

“All right.” He looked around the Parlor at the rows of white draped chairs, the floods of flowers, the groupings of candles. “It’s quite a transformation. Like magic.”

“Yeah, and magic takes sweat. I’ll find you.”

He didn’t doubt that, but wasn’t sure where he should go to be found.

He wandered through the flowers and tulle, the tiny sparkling lights and into the Grand Hall. There, with some relief, he found Jack and Del, sitting at the bar.

“Want a beer?” Del called out.

“No. Thanks. I’m just getting out of the way.”

“Best place for all of us,” Jack agreed. “You hit the nail with Megan.” Jack lifted his bottle of Bass. “There are worse ways to spend a Saturday than comforting a pretty brunette. Canape?”

Carter perused the small tray of food. “Maybe.”

“Del seduced a sampling out of the caterer.”

“There are worse ways to spend a Saturday,” Del agreed. “So, Carter, now that we’re all here, what’s going on with you and my girl?”

“Your—what?”

“You’ve got your eye on my Macadamia. You got anything else on her?”

“Del’s territorial. Have a shrimp ball.”

So was he, Carter realized. “When did she become yours—from your point of view?”

“Since she was about two. Throttle back, Carter. The question’s brotherly.”

“Then you’d better ask her.”

“Discreet.” Del nodded. “That’s a good quality. Hurt her, and I’ll mess you up.”

“Protectiveness. That’s a good quality,” Carter returned.

“Then we’re square. And also busted,” he declared when Emma came in.

“Didn’t I tell you this area is off limits?” In her blue suit, her mass of hair pinned back, she clipped around the tables. “Where did you get that food?”

“Del did it.” Jack threw his friend into the fire without hesitation.

“I’m not having beer bottles and crumbs in here. Get out, and take that with you. Go outside or up to the family wing. I expect this sort of thing from these two,” Emma added. “But I’m surprised at you, Carter.”

“I just . . . I didn’t have a beer. Or anything.”

She only gave him a steely look and pointed to the door.

“We were going to clean it up.” Jack skulked out with the others, and turned to watch Emma check the table arrangements.

Carter bumped into him in the doorway. “Sorry.”

“No problem.” Jack glanced over as Del’s walkie beeped.

“I’m hooked up,” Del explained. “The asshole just got here. He’s alone. I guess that means we don’t get to go out and intimidate him, maybe smack him around. Too bad.”

IT SEEMED TO GO WELL, CARTER DECIDED. IF HE HADN’T SEEN so much of the behind-the-scenes, he might have believed it just unfolded. The flowers, the music, the radiant bride bathed in candlelight. He stood in the back with Del and Jack watching two people promise to love.

But he couldn’t keep his eyes off Mac.

She moved so smoothly, so silently. Not like a shadow, he thought. She was too bright for shadows. Still it seemed she barely stirred the air so all around her attention centered on the two people in front of the crackling fire.

“Got it bad, don’t you?” Del murmured.

“Yes, I do.”

As the newly married couple turned to start the recession, Mac dashed back, nudged Carter to the left. When they passed by into the foyer, she lowered her camera briefly. “I can use you for the group shots. Just stay behind me.”

Guests were escorted through another door. Mac made use of the staircase, the foyer, the now empty parlor.

She worked quickly, Carter observed. She didn’t seem to hurry, but she clicked along, posing various groups and couples—and smoothly avoiding any pose that put the feuding maid of honor and best man together.

The minute she was finished, Parker took over.

“Parker’s going to line them up for the introductions. We’ll go around this way.”

“Let me carry the bag for you.”

“No, I’m used to it.” She led him around, through doorways, through the kitchen bustling with catering, and out into the Grand Hall. “I’ll get some shots as they come in. B and G have the sweetheart table there. It’s a plated meal, numbered tables. Once everyone’s down, it’s just a matter of keeping an eye out for an op. How are you holding up?”

“Fine. You’re doing all the work.”

“We’re still on red alert. We need to keep an eye on the CBBM. If he leaves the hall, one of us has to go after him, make sure he’s just going to pee or catch a smoke. When we’re done in here and move up to the Ballroom for the dancing, that’s when it’s going to get crazy. Less structured, and harder to keep a bead on him.”

SHE WAS RIGHT. HE STUCK WITH HER WHEN HE COULD ONCE the party began in earnest. Guests took advantage of the band and danced, or gathered in groups to chat. Some wandered in, some wandered out. Since he knew what to look for, he noted various staff members by the exits. It was oddly exciting.

“I think we might be clear.” Laurel joined them. “I’m bringing the cake out after this next set, and he hasn’t made a move. No sign of the target either. The B and G don’t look worried about it.”

“Couldn’t look happier,” Mac agreed. “Another ninety and we’re clear.”

“I’m going to check the dessert table.”

“Wait till you get a load of it,” Mac told Carter. “The cake. It’s amazing.”

“Carter? Carter!” A pretty blonde in a red dress dashed over to grab his arms and beam up at him. “I thought that was you. How

are you?”

“I’m fine. Ah . . .”

“Steph. Stephanie Gorden. Corrine’s friend. How quickly they forget.” She laughed and tipped up to her toes to kiss his cheek. “I didn’t realize you were friends of Naomi and Brent.”

“Actually, I’m—”

“Brent’s my cousin. What a beautiful wedding. This place is just fabulous. Really, imagine having an actual

ballroom in your own house. Of course I suppose the Browns lease it out for events so they can maintain it. I’m going to have to find Greg—you remember my husband, Greg, don’t you? He’ll be so surprised to see you. What’s it been? It’s been a year at least. We haven’t seen you since you and Corrine—”

She broke off, gave him a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry that didn’t work out. We thought you were perfect for each other.”

“Uh, well. No. This is Mackensie Elliot. The wedding photographer.”

“Hello, how are you? You must be exhausted! I’ve seen you running around, snapping pictures. Naomi must be making it easy for you. She’s such a beautiful bride.”

“It’s been . . . a snap.”

“I’ve gotten some really nice pictures myself. Those digital cameras practically work themselves, don’t they?”

“Hardly need me at all. You’ll have to excuse me. I have to go pretend to work.”

When Carter caught up with her, Mac was taking candids on the dance floor.

“I’m sorry. I don’t think she meant to be insulting, but she’s an idiot and can’t help it.”

“No problem.” She switched cameras, handed him the other. “Fresh memory card. Remember how to do it?”

“Yes.”

“They’re decorating the limo. I want to go get a few shots out there before they bring in the cake.” She started out with Carter in her wake. “So a year ago—the breakup?”

“The . . . right. More or less. We were together almost that long, and lived together for about eight months. Maybe it was nine. Then she decided she wanted to live with someone else. So she did.”

Mac paused. “She hurt you.”

“Not as much as she should’ve been able to, given the situation. Which means we weren’t perfect for each other. Far from it.”

“If you lived with her you must’ve been in love with her.”

“No. I wanted to be in love with her. It’s not the same thing at all. Mackensie,” he began as they moved outside.

“Shit, damn, fuck!”

“Excuse me?”

“SBP. Red alert!” she said into her headset. “SBP sighted south side of main entrance. CBBM’s with her. Come on, Carter, we’ve got to head them off until reinforcements get here.”

HE WASN’T SURE WHAT HE INTENDED TO DO, AND WAS LESS sure of what she intended to do. But when Mac cut across the snowy lawn, Carter instinctively picked her up.

“What? What?”

“You’re only wearing shoes.”

“So are you! Put me down! I can’t project a stern and forbidding demeanor when you’re carrying me. Down, down, or they’ll get by us.”

The minute he set her down, she was off. In a kind of lope, Carter thought. A long-legged gazelle leaping through the snow. He wasn’t graceful, he knew. But he was fast when he had to be.

He passed her. Carter figured his ungainly slide on the path, thanks to his now ruined and snow-slicked shoes, cut back on the impact of the barrier, but he blocked the forward motion of the furious best man and his current amore.

“I’m sorry. Mr. and Mrs. Lester have expressly ordered that Ms. Poulsen not be admitted to this event.”

“She’s with me, and we’re going in.”

Not just furious, Carter noted, but a little bit drunk. “Again, I’m sorry, but we have to respect the wishes of the bride and groom.”

Just slightly out of breath, Mac reached them. “You were told, specifically and repeatedly, that your friend here isn’t allowed.”

“Donny.” Roxanne tugged on Donny’s sleeve. “You said it was all right.”

A combination of anger and embarrassment heated Donny’s face. “It’s all right because I say it is. It’s my brother’s wedding, and I can bring whoever I want to bring. Meg’s bent, and that’s too bad. But she doesn’t run my life. Out of my way.” He jabbed a finger at Mac and Carter. “You’re just the hired help.”

“She’s not going in,” Mac said. Too many trips to the bar, Mac calculated, so his ego, his pride, his resentment all swam in a pool of alcohol.

Where the hell was the backup?

“You just said it yourself, it’s your brother’s wedding. If she’s more important to you than his happiness today, then you can turn around and go with her. This is private property, and she’s not welcome at this time.”

“Donny.” Roxanne tugged at his arm again. “There’s no point—”

“I said you’re with me.” He whirled back to Mac. “Who the hell do you think you are? You don’t tell me about my brother. Now move!” Temper ripe in his eyes, he planted a hand on Mac’s shoulder and shoved.

Like a flash, Carter stood between them. “Don’t touch her again. Now, you’re drunk, and you’re obviously stupid so I’ll factor that in. You need to cool off and calm down, because you really don’t want to do this.”

“You’re right. I want to do this.”

He smashed his fist into Carter’s face. Carter’s head snapped back, but he didn’t give ground. Roxanne squealed, Mac cursed. Before she could leap forward, Carter pushed her back behind him.

“She’s not going in. You’re not going back in. All you’ve proven is that you’re too selfish to think of anyone but yourself. You’ve embarrassed Ms. Poulsen, and that’s a shame. But you’re not going to get the opportunity to embarrass your brother and his wife today. Now you can leave on your own, or I can help you with that.”

“Why don’t we all help him with that?” Del said as he and Jack flanked Carter.

“I don’t think there’s any need for that.” Parker clipped down the path, then muscled her way through. She stood, an ice queen in Armani, and stared down the best man. “Is there, Donny?”

“We’ve got better things to do. Come on, Roxie. This place is a dump anyway.”

“I’ll make sure they leave.” Del shook his head in disgust. “Go on back in. How’s the face, Carter?”

“It’s not the first time I’ve had a fist smash into it.” He wiggled his jaw experimentally. “It always hurts though.”

“Ice pack.” Parker watched the CBBM and SBP’s departure with cold eyes. “Emma.”

“Come with me, Carter.”

“It’s all right. Really.”

“Ice pack.” Parker’s tone brooked no nonsense. “I’ll signal the all-clear, and let’s get back inside. Nobody hears about this.”