She was becoming used to flying on private planes by now, but it was still a thrill. She and Kendall went over Kendall’s super-organized wedding-planning to-do list. Since Kendall didn’t trust a wedding planner to keep her secret, she’d decided to do the job herself. No one could have been more organized in Taylor’s opinion.

  The guys talked sports.

  They landed at La Guardia just after noon and there was a town car and driver waiting. Being a rich NASCAR driver certainly had its advantages, she thought, as she slid into the backseat.

  Their first stop was an exclusive bridal shop. As they drew up, Kendall patted her stomach. “I’m nervous. What if we’ve come all this way and I hate the dress?”

  “You’ll find something fabulous, I know it,” Taylor said.

  “Excellent encouragement. You’re the best maid of honor I ever had.”

  “Thanks.”

  They walked up four steps to get to the door, and before they opened it, Kendall said, “Call me superstitious, but I’m not lying to anyone this time. I’m the bride, damn it. I’m trying on my own dress, and if your mother finds out about the wedding…” She petered out and looked at Dylan who merely raised his brows. “Well, we’ll think of something.”

  “Celine is still in Vegas, I think. I doubt she can sing at your wedding.”

  “Madonna might be free,” Dylan murmured.

  “I have a connection in Nashville,” Mike offered. “I might have a line on Emmylou Harris.”

  “Would you guys stop?” Kendall said, half laughing. “I don’t want any household names at my wedding except Dylan and his NASCAR buddies.” She took a deep breath. “And if I have to tell your mother to butt out, Dy, I will.”

  “I knew there was a reason I fell in love with you,” Dylan said, taking her hand and kissing it.

  The four of them walked in and a young, pretty woman wearing a sleek navy dress and pearls approached them. “Hi. Which one’s the bride?”

  “I am,” Kendall said, and she sounded so happy that Taylor wanted to hug her. It was easy to get cynical about love and marriage, but when you saw two people who worked so well together, how could you help but believe in happily ever after?

  “Do you have anything particular in mind?” the woman asked, leading them deeper into bridal heaven. Vera Wang, Givenchy, Chanel…If they’d ever designed a bridal gown, they were represented. Her heels sank into the rich carpeting as they followed the woman. There was a slight floral scent in the air.

  “Yes,” said Kendall, pulling a folded magazine page from her bag and showing it to the young woman.

  “Oh, fabulous choice for you. Simple, clean lines, absolute elegance.”

  It was the only gown she tried on. The second the tiny buttons were done up and she turned to face the mirror, Taylor knew Kendall had found her perfect dress.

  “It was made for you, Kendall,” she said, feeling unaccountably misty. “You look so beautiful.”

  They both stared at Kendall’s reflection in the mirror while the saleswoman put a few pins here and there and pronounced it perfect. “We can have this dress ready in three weeks.”

  “I can’t believe it. This is the perfect dress.” She turned slowly around. “It’s not that there weren’t great dresses in those other stores, but I’d already seen the dress I wanted.”

  “I know. Are you going to show Dylan?” Taylor asked.

  She bit her lip. “No. I think I must be more superstitious than I thought. What if he sees me in the dress before our wedding and then we end up getting divorced one day? I don’t want the guilt of thinking it was because I showed off my dress too soon.”

  The young salesclerk agreed. “No one should see your dress before the wedding but you and your bridesmaids. And maybe a few special female relatives.”

  “And speaking of bridesmaids, my maid of honor here needs a dress.”

  The bridesmaid dress they chose was the least bridesmaidy dress Taylor had ever seen. It wasn’t teal, but a pale green cocktail-length, pretty and feminine. She loved it.

  “Thank you for not making me look like a fruit.”

  “A what?”

  “Haven’t you ever noticed that most bridesmaids’ dresses are colors like apricot, cherry, peach or some kind of melon?”

  Kendall laughed. “This is more of a mint.” Then she impulsively hugged Taylor. “We’re going to look fabulous.”

  “Yes, we are.” After the marathon day when they’d ended up with nothing, Taylor was beyond relieved to have so much progress completed in such a short time. “I can’t believe that was so easy.”

  “I know. Now we need to get a few more things and we’re done.”

  The few more things included a tux for Dylan, fortunately in an equally fancy shop next door, ordering wedding invitations from the fanciest stationer Taylor had ever seen, and then Tiffany’s.

  “Listen, Dy,” Mike said when they got to the familiar landmark on Fifth Avenue, “Taylor and I will do some window-shopping while you get your ring.”

  Taylor gave him full marks for tact even as she dreaded being alone with him. Still, she could always ditch him. Who needed a man when Fifth Avenue stretched ahead like the road to paradise?

  “Taylor?” Kendall asked, a concerned look on her face. “Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?”

  “You two should pick out the ring together.” Then she held out her arms as the glorious truth struck her. “I’m on Fifth Avenue and I have a credit card,” she said with a grin. “Go ahead and dump me.”

  “Okay.” They agreed to meet at their hotel, a top-rated boutique hotel in Midtown, in two hours. Taylor and Mike watched as the bride and groom headed into Tiffany’s hand in hand.

  “That was a nice thing you did,” Taylor said.

  “I figured they wanted to be alone. Besides, I do not want to be called on to give advice on princess cut versus bezel.”

  She laughed. “Lucky for you there wasn’t much selection in the gift shop in Hawaii.” She could have bitten off her tongue for bringing up their wedding, but he merely laughed.

  “That pink coral ring looked damned good on you.”

  “I always liked it,” she said, feeling nostalgia creep up on her along with the smell of hot dogs from a street vendor.

  “You still have it?”

  “Somewhere.”

  There was silence for a second as they stood there looking at each other. Then she shook off the unfamiliar mood. “Well, I don’t know about you, but I am going shopping.”

  “I think I’ve had about all the shopping I can stand for one day. I’ll go for a walk. See what I find.”

  She nodded, relieved that he had no intention of following her.

  “I’ll meet you back at the hotel.”

  “Can you find it okay?”

  “I’ll manage.”

  He headed one way while she went the other.

  By the time she grabbed a cab, almost two hours later, she was nicely laden with bags and her feet hurt. An excellent afternoon’s shopping.

  Her room at the hotel was sleek, modern and utterly luxurious. There was a message on her room phone that they were meeting in the lobby at seven for a drink. She squeaked when she realized it was after six and threw herself into the shower. She spent some time on her hair and on applying some of the new makeup she’d bought today, used her new toothbrush and then slid into the new lingerie, and the much nicer little black dress that she’d been unable to resist.

  When she got to the lobby at a few minutes before seven, Kendall and Dylan were already there. The glow of happiness in Kendall’s eyes made her own light up. “Well? Did you get it?”

  She held out her left hand and Taylor oohed and aahed at the emerald-cut diamond solitaire, which was large enough to draw attention but not ostentatious. “It’s gorgeous,” she said.

  “Thanks.”

  She handed Taylor an iconic blue box. “We got you a bridesmaid present.”

  “Ohmygod. You shouldn’t have.”

  She opened the box and there were a pair of dainty diamond drop earrings. “Oh, oh, oh, I love them.”

  She stood there in the lobby and attempted to jab the earrings into her lobes.

  She hadn’t heard Mike arrive, but suddenly he was there. “You are so impatient,” he said, taking the earring out of her hand and raising her chin. “Hold still,” he said.

  How many times had they done things like this? She doubted he even realized how much he was revealing. His fingers felt warm and familiar against her chin, and while he focused on her lobe, she had the leisure to study his face up close. He’d just shaved, she realized, seeing the smoothness of his skin. Only a hint of shadow indicated where he’d sport stubble in a few hours. His eyes were espresso dark, his hair black and tumbling over his forehead the way it always did.

  He smelled the same. She wanted to close her eyes and breathe him in.

  She felt her chest rising and falling with her breath, felt her own hair shifting against her neck as he pushed it behind her ears to fit the second earring in her ear.

  “All done,” he said with a quick smile. He leaned forward and for a second she thought he was going to kiss her, as he would have done if they had really traveled back in time the way this felt.

  But he caught himself in time and gave her a quick pat on the shoulder before turning to say something to Dylan about women and their jewelry.

  The dinner was a huge success. Dylan and Kendall were happy, Mike was funny, and she’d always been his best audience. At least, that’s what he used to tell her. She and Mike were soon as festive as the happy couple.

  The town car dropped them off back at the hotel. Dylan and Kendall were clearly in a hurry to say good-night.

  Taylor and Mike looked at each other. “You two go ahead,” Mike said. “I want to show Taylor the spot where Joe DiMaggio married Marilyn Monroe.”

  “Great. See you in the morning,” said Dylan, practically dragging Kendall into the elevator.

  “How did Joe DiMaggio marry Marilyn Monroe in a hotel that wasn’t built yet?”

  “I couldn’t think of anything except that there was no way I was getting in that elevator with those two.”

  “Good thing they don’t know that the wedding also took place in San Francisco.”

  “I could have said I was showing you the place where martians abducted me when I was a kid and they’d have said, ‘Fine, okay, good night.’”

  She chuckled. “I wouldn’t take that bet. Do you think it’s safe to get another elevator?”

  “Sure, unless you want to take a walk with me. Explore Manhattan by night.”

  Did she? It was getting too weird being with him all the time and surrounded by wedding fever. The entire experience was bringing back too many memories, some good, some bad, but the combination was pushing her off balance.

  She shook her head. “It’s been a hectic day. I think I’ll turn in.”

  If he was disappointed, he hid it well. “Pleasant dreams,” he said, and turned to the street door.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  KENDALL AND DYLAN’S WEDDING day dawned exactly as sunny and perfect as every wedding day should. The July sun shone, but not too hot, and a light breeze licked the flowers in the garden of Gordon Winfield’s house on Lake Norman where the two would exchange their vows. Since Kendall and Dylan had also bought a house on Lake Norman, they would soon be neighbors.

  Taylor couldn’t believe the big day had finally arrived. There’d been almost a dozen races between the time she’d come up with the crazy wedding-decoy idea and now. Races that were starting to blur together in her memory. Hotel rooms that she couldn’t tell apart.

  Since she’d turned down his offer of a walk in Manhattan the night they’d shopped in New York, she and Mike had lapsed into a friendly enough relationship that was all business. They bumped into each other in the garage area and the pits. They’d say “hi” or simply wave. If her heart always lurched in a very unbusinesslike way, she figured that was her problem. She’d get over it in time.

  In her down times there’d been wedding preparations—this maid of honor business was a serious undertaking, she’d discovered. Especially since Kendall was frighteningly well organized and left nothing to chance.

  However, once she’d made the decision in New York not to hide her wedding anymore, Taylor had seen a new woman emerge. She had loved the story of how Kendall had insisted Dylan take her down to visit his parents. On that visit, she’d showed off her new engagement ring and laid down the law. Taylor hadn’t heard all the details of that memorable confrontation, but, looking around at the gorgeous grounds, she knew Kendall had got her way. Not a president, ex-president, congressman or a singer who’d appeared in Vegas or won a Grammy was present.

  In fact, there was a casual atmosphere that no one knew better than Taylor had taken a huge amount of work to create.

  The tents were perfectly positioned, so they appeared casually dropped on the lawn by giant hands. Waiters in Dylan’s racing colors instead of stuffy tuxes would wander among the guests, dispensing drinks and appetizers as soon as the ceremony was over. A quartet played in front of the rose arbor.

  Kendall had her wish, Taylor thought. The garden wedding at home was casual, but everything was first class.

  She peeked out of the upper windows of the Winfield home and watched the guests take their seats in the garden. Kendall’s mother had arrived earlier, an older version of Kendall and one, Taylor was amused to note, who’d obviously passed on the organizing gene.

  “I think pinning the flower headpiece slightly to the left will look better in photographs,” she said, her nimble fingers busy. Kendall and Taylor exchanged one helpless glance in the mirror, and then Taylor turned away to busy herself with unbuttoning the dress, readying it for Kendall to step into.

  “Take my advice, Taylor. When you get married, elope,” Kendall said, dusting her nose with powder at her mother’s direction.

  Taylor would never have a mother to fuss over her, of course, but she’d have Reena, who would do an admirable job standing in. She shook her head.

  “I’m going to have a wedding like this one. Traditional. There’s something about eloping that’s too much like running away.” And she was beginning to think she’d done enough running in her time.

  “Can I plan your wedding?” Kendall asked. “I’m an excellent wedding planner. I think I have a real talent for this.”

  Taylor laughed. “Excellent. I have my wedding planner all picked out. Now all I need is a groom.”

  “What about—”

  “Darling, the time,” Kendall’s mother said, glancing at the clock on the dresser.

  “Oh, right. Better not be late for my own wedding.”

  When Kendall and her mother had decided the hair and makeup were flawless, Taylor helped her bride into her dress.

  As she did up the tiny buttons and the three women chatted and giggled, she decided that if she ever got married again she was definitely going to have this. A traditional wedding, with women helping her on with her clothes.

  A wedding was a ceremony. It should be celebrated by a person’s friends and community. A backyard post-nuptial party simply didn’t do the job.

  Taylor’s cell phone rang. This was their cue.

  “Hello?”

  “How’s the bride holding up?” Mike asked.

  “Fantastic. How’s the groom?”

  “Looks pretty green around the gills. I think the Scotch for breakfast helped.”

  She glanced out the window. She could see from here that Dylan was gazing up at the window, eagerness in every line of his body. All the guests were seated.

  “How can you tease at a time like this?” She shook her head reprovingly even though he couldn’t see her. “We’re on our way.”

  She put down her phone and turned. Kendall glowed with happiness, giving her a quiet beauty.

  “Ready?”

  She nodded.

  On impulse, the three women hugged—gently—and Kendall’s mother touched her daughter’s cheek before the three of them headed downstairs.

  “Shoulders back, girls. Big smiles. This is a happy day.”

  Yes it was, thought Taylor as she stepped out of the French doors and began the short walk up the grassy aisle. The string quartet moved smoothly into Mozart. Behind her, Kendall had chosen to walk up the aisle on her widowed mother’s arm.

  Dylan was gazing in goofy-eyed adoration at the woman who looked stunning in the simple gown she’d flown to New York to pick up.

  However, his best man’s gaze was glued to Taylor.

  She couldn’t help returning his stare as she walked slowly up the aisle. He was gorgeous in a tux. How had she never known he could dress up so well?

  When she reached the top he leaned over and said, “You look beautiful.”

  “Thanks,” she whispered back. “I can’t believe we made it.”

  Then Kendall reached Dylan and the service began. They’d chosen a simple service, but the familiar words rolled through Taylor with the power of tradition. “Will you take this man?”

  She had, when she’d been asked the same question, but not for all that long as it turned out.

  In times of health, when things were better, there’d been no problem. The minute they were hit with sickness and worse, the marriage had crumbled.

  Till the first sign of trouble do us part.

  When she heard the words, “I now pronounce you man and wife,” Taylor took refuge in the embroidered handkerchief Kendall’s mother had given her as a keepsake.

  “This is a perfect wedding,” Taylor said, hugging the bride.

  “I couldn’t have done it without you and Mike,” she said, hugging back.

  Suddenly, the subterfuge, the days spent shopping and tasting wedding delicacies and inspecting cakes, were worth every minute and calorie.

  “I know you will be very happy.” They would, too, she was certain. Taylor could tell when they looked at each other that what they had going was the real thing.