“I don’t want names. I said I wanted my wedding here. It’s important to me, Parker. I want to be married somewhere I feel at home, where I have a connection, to have people I love and trust looking after the details. I want—”

“Tears won’t work on me.” Parker’s voice turned cold as Linda’s eyes filled. “And I don’t care what you want. You’re not getting married here. So.” She got to her feet. “If that’s all, I’m busy.”

“You always thought you were better than us, looking down like you’re so much more important. A Brown of Connecticut. What are you now, renting out your big house, scrambling around serving drinks and running other people’s errands.”

“I’m a Brown of Connecticut, following a time-honored family tradition and earning a living.” She picked up Linda’s coat, offered it. “I’ll show you out.”

“When I tell Ari how you’ve treated me, he’ll put you out of business. You won’t be able to run a kid’s birthday party in this place. We’ll ruin you.”

“Oh, Linda, you have no idea how happy it makes me to hear you say that because it allows me to say something I’ve wanted to, for years. All the years I’ve watched you undermine and emotionally manipulate my best friend. All the years I’ve watched you alternately smother her or ignore her, as it suited your whims.”

Shock leached color from Linda’s cheeks. “You can’t speak to me that way.”

“I just did. Now I’ll finish. You’re not welcome in this house. Actually, you’ve never been welcome here, but tolerated. That ends now. You’ll only be permitted to walk in this door again if Mac wants it. Now get out of my house, get in your car, and get off my property.”

“And to think I wanted to do you a favor.”

Parker stood in the doorway, watching while Linda slid into her car. By the time she’d driven halfway home, Parker estimated, she’d believe that. She’d tried to do them a favor. She waited until the car gunned down the drive, then grabbed a jacket for the walk to Mac’s studio.

Mac met her at the door. “Parks, I—”

“Don’t apologize to me. You’ll piss me off.” She glanced at the studio space, noted the backdrop, the floor pillows. “You’ve got the engagement shoot. Soon,” she realized with a glance at her watch. “I’ll be quick.”

“How’d the consult go?”

“We didn’t get the job.”

“Did she cry or yell?”

“A little of both, with bribes and insults.”

“It’s amazing. She’s amazing. She really believes everyone’s world should revolve around her.” Weary of it, Mac pressed her fingers to her eyes and rubbed. “Within the hour, she’ll have turned this around to she was only asking as a favor to us, to try to boost the business. She was secretly relieved when we couldn’t manage the job, probably because it was too big for our business.”

“She was already on the way there when she walked out the door.”

“It’s a skill. Maybe it’ll last this time. The marriage, I mean. It’s pretty clear the guy’s got money, and plenty of it.”

“Bright side? She’ll be moving to New York.”

Mac paused. “I didn’t think of that. That whizzed by me. That’s a very bright side.” Still Mac sighed and moved in to drop her head on Parker’s shoulder. “Oh God, she tires me out.”

“I know.” Parker wrapped her arms around Mac in a hard hug. “Be okay,” Parker ordered.

“I will.”

“You want to come for ice cream after the shoot?”

“I might.”

“There’re the clients. I’ll get out of your way.”

“Parker? Even if we’d had the date open . . .”

“Oh, baby,” Parker said with some cheer as she went to the door. “No way in hell.”

With a shake of her head, Mac ordered herself not to feel guilty about that. At least not until after the shoot.

CARTER LOADED THE STACK OF ESSAYS IN HIS BRIEFCASE. THEY rode in the section that held a stack of test papers. His homework, he mused. He wondered if students had any idea how much homework the average teacher hauled away from the classroom every day.

On the board behind him he’d written the springboard for the essays he’d read that night.

Explore and compare the attitudes and philosophies of Rosalind and Jaques on love, and why you think each holds them.

The optimist and the pessimist, Carter thought, the melancholy and the joyful. His goal in the in-depth study of the play had been to guide his students under the surface of what might appear to be a light romantic comedy full of jokes and clever banter to the currents beneath.

Under all that, Carter supposed, his goal was to make his students think.

“Excuse me? Dr. Maguire?”

He glanced over at the woman in the doorway. “Yes. Can I help you?”

“I’m Suzanne Byers, Garrett’s mother.”

“Mrs. Byers, it’s nice to meet you. Come in.”

“I hoped to catch you before you left for the day. I won’t take up much of your time.”

“It’s no problem.”

“I couldn’t make Parents’ Night. I was down with the flu. I’d wanted to come, especially to speak to you. I guess you know Garrett didn’t have a strong start at the academy last year. And he didn’t come out of the starting gate with a bang this year either.”

“He’s made considerable progress, I think. Finding his stride. He’s bright. His participation in class has taken an upturn, and so have his grades and test scores this last semester.”

“I know. That’s why I wanted to speak to you. His father and I had been discussing taking him out of the academy.”

“I hope you won’t. Garrett—”

“Had been,” she interrupted. “We worked with him, threatened him, bribed him, tried private tutoring. Nothing got through, and we felt we were tossing away the tuition. Until a few months ago. It was like a light went on. He talks about books. He actually studies. He was genuinely disappointed when he got a B on his last paper in your class. I couldn’t speak for ten minutes when he told me, with some heat, he was going to ace the next one.”