Wouldn’t that be perfect?

She stepped into the powder room to splash cold water on her face. They were her friends, she reminded herself. They had to forgive her. That was the rule.

Steadier, she went back into her studio.

She let her machine take her calls and gave her current task all her concentration. When she’d finished she decided the client would never know the package had been created by a bitch in the throes of a massive attack of self-pity. Once everything was loaded in her car, Mac drove to the main house.

True, they had to forgive her, but first she had to ask. That was another rule.

Out of habit, she went in the back. When she stepped into the kitchen, she saw Laurel working at the prep counter. With a hand steady and precise as a surgeon’s, she monogrammed heart-shaped chocolate.

Knowing better than to interrupt, Mac held her silence.

“I can hear you breathing,” Laurel said after a moment. “Go away.”

“I just came in to eat some crow. I’ll be quick.”

“Make that very. I’ve got another five hundred of these to finish.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for acting that way, for saying those things. Things I didn’t mean in the first place. I’m sorry for walking out on the meeting.”

“Okay.” Laurel laid down her brush and turned. “Now, the question would be why.”

Mac started to speak, found her throat snapped shut. The sudden barrier had her eyes filling. She could only shake her head as tears spilled over.

“Okay, okay.” Laurel crossed over, folded Mac into a hug. “It’s going to be all right. Come on. Sit down.”

“You have five hundred chocolate hearts to monogram.”

“It’s probably more like four hundred and ninety-five at this point.”

“Oh, God, Laurel, I’m so stupid!”

“Yeah, you are.”

Quickly, efficiently, Laurel had Mac sitting at the counter with a box of tissues and a small plate of as yet unadorned chocolate hearts.

“I can’t take your candy.”

“It tastes a lot better than crow, and I’ve got plenty.”

Sniffling, Mac took one. “You make the best.”

“Godiva should tremble in its boots. What happened, honey? Was it your mother? Light went on,” she added when Mac didn’t speak. “Right after you did the outraged stalk.”

“Why can’t I suck it up, Laurel?”

“Because she knows every button to push when it comes to you. And no matter how much you suck up, she’s got more.”

It was, Mac had to admit, the heart of the target. “It’s never going to change.”

“She’s never going to change.”

“Meaning that’s on me.” Mac took another bite of chocolate. “I know it. I do. I said no. I said no, and I meant no, and I would’ve kept saying it even if Del hadn’t taken the phone and hung up on her.”

In the act of getting down a glass, Laurel glanced back. “Del was there?”

“Yeah, he came by to tease me about Carter—which is a whole other area of what the hell am I doing—and she called from Florida wanting another couple thousand so she could stay another week and finish her recovery.”

“I’ll give Del credit for hanging up on her, but he should’ve come back here to tell us.”

“I asked him not to.”

“So what?” Laurel demanded. “If he had any sense, he’d have done what you needed not what you asked. Then you wouldn’t have wallowed all night and woken up the bitch.”

She set a glass of ice water beside the chocolate. “Drink that. You’re probably dehydrated. How many times did she call after Del left you alone?”

“It’s not his fault. Twice. I didn’t answer.” Mac heaved a sigh. “I’m really sorry I took it out on you.”

“What are friends for?”

“Let’s hope Parker sees it that way. Can I take these up, to sort of sweeten the deal?”

Laurel chose two white chocolate hearts from her supply. “She’s no match for the white chocolate, and you might need the edge. Me, you just pissed off. Easy to get over it. You hurt her feelings.”

“Oh, God.”

“I figure it’s better you know that going in. She’s pissed, too, but it’s the hurt feelings you’ll need to get down to.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

Knowing Parker, and she did, Mac went directly to the conference room. The incident had occurred there, so Parker-logic dictated its follow-up would take place in the same venue.

As she’d expected, Parker sat at the table working with her Crack—her BlackBerry. The fire had calmed to a cozy simmer, and the coffee had been replaced with the bottle of water Parker was rarely without. Her laptop sat open and beside it rested a tidy stack of files and printouts.

Parker was never anything but prepared.

As Mac came in, Parker set the BlackBerry aside. Her face was cool and blank. Her business-to-attend-to face, Mac knew.

“Don’t say anything. Please. I come bearing chocolate and every possible variety of apology. You can have as many of them as you want—the chocolate and the apologies. My behavior was ass-hatty in the extreme. Everything I said was from the box of stupid I brought in with me. Since I can’t take it back, you have to forgive me. You don’t have a choice.”

She set the plate down. “There’s white chocolate.”

“So I see.” Silently, Parker studied her friend’s face. Even if she hadn’t known Mac nearly all of her life, she’d have seen the signs of a recent crying jag.

“You’re just going to come in here and say you’re sorry after I did all this work so we could fight it out and I could make you crawl?”

“Yes.”

Considering, Parker picked up a white chocolate heart. “I assume you’ve already been through this with Laurel.”

“Yes. Hence the chocolate. I blubbered all over her. I got most of it out, but if you don’t eat that so I know we’re okay, I’m going to start up again. It’s like a symbol. Men shake hands after they beat each other up. We eat chocolate.”

With her eyes on Mac, Parker bit into the heart.

“Thanks, Parker.” Mac dropped into a chair. “I feel like such an idiot.”