Wife On Approval. Leigh Michaels

wasn’t the first time that Jennifer’s precocious insight had set Austin back on his heels. Sometimes, he thought, she seemed to be five years old going on thirty—both perceptive and acute.

      And even more dead on target than Paige had been, as she’d so curtly diagnosed his weaknesses. Paige, he thought, had missed the mark in a couple of critical areas.

      He’d made his share of bad choices, just as she’d deduced, and he wouldn’t deny it. But not everything he’d done in the months after their divorce had fallen into the category of things to be regretted.

      Take Jennifer, for example. She had been anything but a bad choice.

      Why, Paige asked herself miserably, had she let herself be drawn into that insane discussion? Why had she allowed herself to voice her opinions at all? And why had she left herself open to that cutting remark about his lack of interest in what she thought of him?

      She could have simply refused to take part in the whole conversation. She could have maintained a cool silence. She could at least have avoided any mention of Jennifer’s mother.

      But no—she’d had to go behave like a shrew. Not that she didn’t have some cause; Austin must have taken up with the woman practically before the ink on the divorce decree was dry, to have a child who was almost six. And it wasn’t much comfort to tell herself that many men wouldn’t have waited even that long; for all she knew, Austin hadn’t waited, either. Though Paige hadn’t so much as suspected the existence of another woman at the time, perhaps he had just been very careful, very lucky at keeping a double life under wraps—

      “At this rate,” she said aloud, “you’re going to drive yourself nuts over something that happened years ago and has no significance now. So cut it out.”

      Paige took a deep breath and tried to clear her mind as she steered the minivan out into rush-hour traffic.

      At least, she reminded herself, the first and most difficult encounter was over. And now that Austin knew about her, he’d no doubt be every bit as careful to avoid another runin as Paige intended to be.

      Her cell phone rang, and she took advantage of a red light to dig it out of her leather tote bag.

      Sabrina said, “When are you going to be leaving Austin’s apartment?”

      “I’m headed for home right now. Why?”

      “Can you stop by Caleb’s house? It’s practically on your way.”

      “My mother will be expecting me.”

      “Fifteen minutes,” Sabrina wheedled. “That’s all. I picked up your bridesmaid’s dress from the shop this afternoon, because I figured if you were ever going to have time to try it on, it wouldn’t be during regular business hours.”

      Paige tried to smother a sigh. Right now, with every inch of her body still smarting from Austin’s words, she didn’t want to face either of her partners. She just wanted to go home and…

      Not face your mother, she finished. A few minutes’ respite from Eileen McDermott’s all-observant gaze would be a blessing. In comparison, Sabrina—perceptive as she could be—was downright oblivious. “Sure. I’ll be there in a few minutes if traffic cooperates.”

      “Great. I want to talk to you about something, anyway.” Sabrina sounded almost somber.

      Paige forgot her own troubles. “It’s not Caleb, is it? I mean, you haven’t had a fight?”

      “Too many to count. It’s our favorite pastime.” The bounce was back in Sabrina’s tone. “But nothing serious. It’s my mother that’s the problem.”

      “Again?”

      “Are you sure you don’t mean still? I’ll tell you when you get here.”

      When Paige parked her van in front of Caleb Tanner’s three-story Georgian house, Sabrina opened the door to greet her and while she waited for Paige to come up the walk, idly began picking off fragments of loose paint from the siding next to the entrance.

      “It’ll be a mansion again someday,” Paige said as she climbed the crumbling concrete steps. “With your taste and Caleb’s money, anything’s possible.”

      “It’s just too bad I can’t buy enough good weather to work on the exterior in the winter.” Sabrina led Paige upstairs to a newly decorated guest room and pulled a garment bag from the closet. “Conversation later,” she decreed. “Let’s get the important stuff out of the way first.”

      The dress she displayed was raspberry silk, in an Edwardian style which even included a tiny bustle. It was one of the most beautiful—and impractical—things Paige had ever seen. “Gorgeous,” she said as she turned to the mirror, hands holding the neckline in place while Sabrina started to deal with the long row of buttons up the back of the gown. “But don’t tell me Cassie’s enthusiastic about this color. With that red hair of hers—”

      “She’s wearing periwinkle blue, but it’s styled the same.” Sabrina sounded abstracted.

      Paige watched her for a moment. “So tell me what your mother’s up to.”

      “She invited my cousin and a friend I haven’t seen in at least ten years to be bridesmaids.”

      “How thoughtful of her.”

      “Wasn’t it, though? And that’s not the worst of it. She invited them before she bothered to tell me. The first I knew of it was when the old friend called this afternoon to tell me how excited she was about being in my wedding and to ask where she should pick up her dress.”

      “So what are you going to do? Look around for a couple more ushers to keep the numbers even?”

      Sabrina shook her head. “I can’t add more bridesmaids, even if I wanted to. Caleb is edgy enough at the very idea of having a formal wedding. I don’t dare suggest making an even bigger production out of it. Two bridesmaids, two ushers—that’s his absolute limit.”

      “Then if you’re wondering whether I’d mind stepping aside for a substitute in order to keep the peace—”

      Paige ran a hand over the sleek heavy silk as she thought about Sabrina’s truce with the parents who had once disowned her. It was, she thought, too new and too fragile to risk. And even if Sabrina’s mother had veered over the line from helpful to managing…well, she was still Sabrina’s mother, after all.

      Paige half turned to face her friend and went on, “Surely you know you don’t have to ask, Sabrina. I wouldn’t be offended, and I’m sure Cassie feels the same. And it wouldn’t be too late to have the dresses altered if—”

      Sabrina’s eyes widened. “I wouldn’t dream of asking anything of the sort! You and Cassie are my best friends—if the two of you weren’t standing beside me through the ceremony, I wouldn’t even feel married.”

      “It’s nice to be appreciated,” Paige said lightly, but she felt a tremor deep inside. How lucky she was to have friends like this. “So what are you going to do? Tell them there’s been a mix-up, and talk to your mother?”

      “You think I haven’t already? Their feelings were hurt, and Mother cried and said she was only trying to help.” Sabrina sighed. “I’m just afraid of what this desire to be helpful will make her do next.” A knock at the door made Sabrina break off, and she went to open it.

      Paige turned back and forth in front of the long mirror, admiring the play of light and shadow against the distinct weave of the fabric, only half hearing the murmur of the butler’s voice at the door.

      Sabrina came back to the mirror, her eyes alight. “Now that’s downright lucky,” she said. “That I called you over here tonight, I mean. Austin’s in town—you must have just missed him at his apartment.”

      “Actually,” Paige began.

      “He’s downstairs right