Wanted: One Mummy. Cathy Gillen Thacker
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formula before finally selling out to that big cosmetics company?”
Jack shook his head and scoffed. “Thirty. But that’s not the point.”
Caroline held up a palm, silencing him. “It’s exactly the point. Your mother knows her own mind. And if she wants to marry Dutch Ambrose, then she should—with no interference from you!”
He narrowed his gaze at her. “You’re saying you won’t help me.”
She was going to have to let this job go. Better to steer clear of it than find herself in the middle of a familial contretemps that could ruin an otherwise spectacular wedding day, and along with it, her hard-earned professional reputation.
Her thoughts turned to the memory of another handsome, determined male, and the heartache he’d caused her while claiming to have her best interests at heart. What was it with guys, anyway, that made them think they knew better than the women in their lives, and hence, needed to go all out to protect them?
“Even if I pay you a lot of money?” Jack persisted.
Those words brought Caroline back to the present. She had nothing against the quest for money. She was doing everything she could to make a better, more secure life for herself, too, and like it or not, that meant having money in the bank. But the assumption that she could be bought rankled. She absolutely would not do to someone else what had been done to her. And it was time Jack Gaines found that out!
Caroline propped her hands on her hips and glared at him, making no effort to disguise her contempt. “Let’s get something clear, Mr. Gaines. I will not help you betray your mother. I will not destroy her dreams. And I most definitely will not smile and say one thing to her face and then go behind her back and do something else that will break her heart and simultaneously benefit me. And furthermore, I’m insulted that you would even ask!”
With that, Caroline picked up her briefcase and stalked out.
“WHAT DO YOU MEAN Caroline Mayer refused to plan my wedding?” Patrice Gaines demanded later that same day as she looked up from the notepad in her hand. A veteran list maker, Patrice was rarely without paper and pen. Jack cast a glance at his seven-year-old daughter, Maddie, out in the yard, throwing a ball for her accident-prone dog, Bounder. Relieved that at the moment the sweet-tempered and energetic two-year-old golden retriever was not involved in any mischief, or doing anything that would require yet another emergency trip to the vet, and that his equally lively daughter was happily entertained, caring for her favorite “friend and companion,” Jack smiled. At least two members of the Gaines clan were happy.
Jack pushed aside his guilt at his deception and turned back to his mother with a shrug. “I’m sorry, Mom. I asked her this afternoon. She said no.” And a lot of other things he would prefer his mother never hear.
Patrice put down her list, took off her bifocals and let them rest on the gold chain around her neck. “Caroline Mayer is the best up-and-coming wedding planner in the entire Fort Worth area! Weddings masterminded by her are incredible, memorable events!”
“So you mentioned,” Jack said drily, trying not to think about the elegant woman who had shot him down and then walked off without a backward glance. It wasn’t just her refusal to be intimidated by him that kept Caroline Mayer in his thoughts. Or the tousled layers of copper hair that framed her face and curved against her chin. It was the mix of innocence and cynicism in her crystal-blue eyes. The sense that she’d been around the block more than once when it came to business and having her pride hurt.
He’d heard she had not come from money, yet she was elegance defined, from her high femininely sculpted cheekbones and pert nose to the slender curves on her five-foot-five frame.
She knew how to dress—as had been evidenced by her pale pink business pantsuit, silk shell and heels. She knew what understated jewelry to wear. The only thing lacking in her presence, Jack had noted, was perfume. Caroline hadn’t worn any.
Although the subtle sunny fragrance of her hair and skin had been pleasurable enough. He wondered, when she did wear perfume, what kind of scent did she favor? Something light and innocent, or mysterious and deeply sensual?
Oblivious to the direction of his thoughts, Jack’s mother pressed on. “Is it money? Did you not offer her enough? Is that it?”
“We never got to the part about the money,” Jack admitted reluctantly. “And I told you, if you’re going to get married, I want to be the one to pay for it.”
Patrice frowned. “Was there a conflict with the time frame I selected, then? Is that the problem?”
Jack thought of the ramrod set of Caroline Mayer’s slender spine and the seductive sway of her hips as she stalked out. Coming or going, she was one beautiful woman—who now couldn’t stand the sight of him. Jack cleared his throat. “We never got that far, either.”
Clearly exasperated, Patrice threw up her hands. “Then why did she say no?”
Because she’s a wedding planner, not a spoilsport. And I made the mistake of being honest with her about my sentiments regarding the impending nuptials, Jack thought irritably. Caroline hadn’t accepted the fact he was only trying to protect his mother from a mistake that could destroy her. Aware his mother was still waiting for a plausible explanation, Jack said finally, “It was just a personality thing, Mom.” Clashing personalities. “The woman took an instant dislike to me.”
Astonishment warred with the skepticism on her face. Patrice furrowed an artfully shaped brow. “I know you can be a bit linear at times, especially when you’re involved with your work …”
Why not just say it? Jack thought. There are times when I lack people skills….
“But surely Caroline Mayer has worked with her share of engineers and other task-specific people before. She knows how, well … unromantic … and practical to the point of insanity … you all can be.”
“Thanks, Mom,” Jack said wryly.
“You know what I mean. I know you sometimes say and do the wrong thing, but it’s always obvious to me you mean well and have a good heart.”
“Well, she apparently didn’t think so,” Jack muttered.
“Why on earth not?” His mother looked all the more perplexed and incensed.
Not about to go down that road, Jack shrugged and said carefully, “Bottom line—I think I just annoyed her on a lot of levels, and she decided she would rather not have to deal with me.”
“I don’t want anyone else,” Patrice said stubbornly.
Dutch Ambrose, Patrice’s fiancé, chose this time to wander into the room. On the surface, the guy was the perfect husband for his petite blonde mother. Tall, rangy, slightly stooped—at sixty-two, Dutch had a ready smile, a full head of thick white hair and the kind of deep ever-present tan that came from years spent at the beach and on the golf course. He dressed in sneakers, bright plaid golf pants, solid polo shirts and cardigan sweaters. He’d been practicing his shot in the study, and had his putter and a golf ball in hand. “What’s the problem?” Dutch asked genially, as unerringly polite as ever.
Patrice looked over at the fiancé she’d only known three months, and explained the difficulty Jack had encountered with Caroline Mayer.
Jack had only to look at his mother’s face to know where this was going.
“I’ll call her again,” Jack promised. “I’ll get down on my knees and beg, if necessary.”
“No,” his mother said even more firmly, giving him The Look that had always preceded a grounding when he was a kid. “You won’t.”
“WHO IS HERE TO SEE ME?” Caroline asked her administrative assistant from her office in Weddings Unlimited.
Looking much younger than her fifty-something years, Sela Ramirez shut the door behind her. Her vibrant red-and-gold dress sparkled in the late-afternoon