Summer straightened. “So. What do you think?”
You don’t have the sense God gave a corn muffin.
“Wow,” I said. “You’ve done a lot of work.”
“Indeed I have.” Summer beamed a smile that could have sold a million tubes of Crest.
How to maneuver the minefield?
Psychology. No chance muffin brain would catch on.
“How would you describe the floral arrangements?” I asked.
“Kind of pink and yellow. But
“So you want simple.”
“But elegant. It has to make a statement.”
“Clearly green is out.”
“Clearly.”
As Summer snatched up the first reject, I raised my brows to Pete.
“Very funny,” he mouthed.
“Do you like a monochromatic look?”
Summer regarded me blankly.
“Things being the same color.”
“I like more punch. Ah. I see what y’all mean.”
The ecru napkin disappeared into the bag.
“Stark contrast?”
“Not so much.”
“Then black is probably wrong.”
“Totally.”
Black. Gone.
“An earthy look?”
“Not for summer.” She giggled. “Not me. The season.”
“Then forget brown.”
Gone.
That left silver and pink.
“Are you leaning toward one of the patterns?” I asked.
“I love this one.” She stroked a swatch with ghastly pink swirls on a cream background.
I remembered the outfit she’d worn on her last visit.
Bingo.
I laid the pink napkin artfully across the swirly swatch of fabric.
“Yes!” Summer clapped in glee. “Yes! Yes! I agree! See, Petey? You just have to use good taste.”
Petey held his applause.
“Now.” Summer arranged the four silver frames in a row. “Every place setting will have one of these. So the guests know where to sit. Then they keep it as their gift. Clever, right?”
“Um.”
“Which is your favorite?”
“They’re all very nice.”
As Summer pointed out the minutiae that set each frame apart, I noted that she took longer with one than the others.
“I like the dotted border,” I said.
“So do I! Tempe, we are so much alike, we could be sisters!”
Behind his fiancee’s back, Petey winced.
Summer was gathering her samples when my mobile sounded. Excusing myself, I stepped into the kitchen.
Area code 704. Charlotte. I didn’t recognize the number.
Preferring a sales pitch for funeral plans to further interaction with Bridezilla, I clicked on.
“Temperance Brennan?”
