Best Man For The Wedding Planner. Donna Alward

message me. I might have something up my sleeve.”

      “Thank you,” she murmured, looking down at the phone and back up. “That’s...kind of you.”

      He took a step back. “I might still be a bit angry with you, but it doesn’t mean I want you to fail, Delly.”

      “No one calls me that.”

      “I can call you Adele if you want.”

      She swallowed against a lump in her throat. “It doesn’t matter.”

      “If nothing goes wrong, I’ll see you at the ceremony.”

      “Or before. I’ll be taking the boutonnieres to Peter’s suite before your photos. Those are the last flowers to arrive.”

      He gave her a mock salute and headed off down the hall, leaving her standing there, feeling unsure and off-balance. And only a little of that was because of her illness.

      * * *

      A brief discussion with the contract manager gave her the ability to bring in three additional servers, paid out of her own pocket. She called Emmeline and Jerry Richards, who owned a catering business she’d used often. They’d send three servers to the hotel by four o’clock so they could meet with the banquet staff ahead of time. Then she went to the bridal suite, where she faced a radiant and excited Holly.

      “How is it? Is it all coming together?” Holly asked. “What do you think? The dress is still perfect, isn’t it?” Harper was there, snapping pictures, and despite her growing fatigue, Adele went forward and adjusted the zipper and hook at the back of the dress.

      “It’s lovely. And it is all coming together, with one hitch.”

      Holly’s face fell. “Oh, no. Is it bad?”

      “It’s nothing I can’t handle, but it’s big enough you need to be aware. Your string quartet has backed out. Half of them are down with the flu.” And apparently not as amenable to working while sick as she was.

      “But...that’s all the music!” Her voice raised with panic. “That’s what I’m supposed to walk up the aisle to!”

      “I know,” Adele said, feeling a little panic herself but keeping calm for the sake of the bride’s sanity. “I’ve got calls in to a few replacement ensembles that I’ve worked with before. I’m hopeful, because January isn’t a busy wedding month. We might be lucky.”

      “And if we’re not?”

      Adele reached out and took her hand. “I have never let a bride down yet, and you won’t be the first.”

      “Okay.” Holly let out a breath. “I’m going to trust you with this, Adele. Please, please make it work.”

      “Everything else is ready, and your flowers should be on their way up in the next thirty minutes. The weather is perfect, too, so don’t fret.” She sent a reassuring smile. “I’ve pulled off miracles before.”

      She left the suite and rested against the wall after the door was shut. Keeping a bright face had been a big chore. She needed to take another dose of pills soon; the fever and chills were worsening, and her whole body ached.

      Her phone dinged with a text message—the quartet she’d used before was already booked for this evening. That only left one option. If they weren’t available...

      She grabbed a bottle of water, but then stopped and got a bowl of soup to get her through the day. The warm broth helped her throat, which was feeling a bit raw, and revived her a bit. Until she got the final refusal. They were two and a half hours from wedding time and had no music. Holly was not the sort of bride who would want a recording played for her walk down the aisle, either.

      Desperate times called for desperate measures. She tapped in a text message to Dan, asking for his help. By the time she’d finished her soup, he’d messaged back, saying that a pianist and flautist would be there and set up by two thirty, and if guests could wait until after that to be seated, it would allow them a few minutes to warm up.

      She hadn’t wanted to rely on him, but he had come through anyway. Just like he always had when they’d been together.

      Her heart ached a bit thinking about it. If she’d told Dan she’d been diagnosed with cancer, he would have stood beside her. If she’d told him it had spread to her uterus and she had to have a hysterectomy, he would have held her hand and insisted it would be all right.

      And then she would have had to face him every day, feeling responsible for denying him the joy of his own children. Wondering if he would grow to resent her as his siblings had children and they remained childless. If he’d regret staying with her all that time, and if he’d eventually stop loving her.

      The way her dad had stopped loving her mom.

      Dan was still a good man. And he had come through today, helping her out of a jam. But nothing had really changed.

      Nothing at all.