"Sheldon?"

"Six."

"Got that?"

The sales girl, used to the various idiosyncrasies of new, possibly hormonally charged brides-to-be, merely nodded.

"So, we do the dresses today, and if we get the shoes out of the way as well, then we're almost eighty percent to completion. Way to go, ladies."

Sheldon picked at the row of tiaras, and sat one on her head. On anybody else it would have been over the top, on Sheldon, she looked like a princess. Mercedes sighed wistfully.

Sheldon frowned in the mirror. "I've been thinking."

"About what?" asked Jamie, plucking at the tiara, frowning, and putting it safely away.

"I have this project I've been working on."

"You're going to rent yourself out as a professional bridesmaid and spare others the indignity?"

Sheldon made a face. "Please. No, this is something serious."

"Serious sounds serious."

Sheldon looked around nervously. "I'm starting a foundation. Music for kids in the inner-city. All the politicians are proposing to cut the funding for the arts, and I thought I could make a difference."

"Wow, that's so...so, worthy," said Mercedes.

"Do you think I can do it?"

"h.e.l.l, yeah, I think you can do it." Sheldon, being rich, and gorgeous, naturally had self-image problems. "Do you need help?" asked Mercedes.

"Yeah."

"I know absolutely nothing about fund-raising, nor am I musically gifted like you-"

"I'm not gifted."

"You play the violin. In my book, that's gifted."

"Fine. You'll help?"

"Yeah."

"Jamie?"

"I can spare four hours a week, six when it's not end of the quarter, but you'd be surprised what you can get done in a few hours."

"I'm always amazed," muttered Mercedes.

Right then, Jamie's PDA rang and she picked it up.

"h.e.l.lo?"

Her face turned dark.

"No, we're not having a horse-drawn carriage. A standard town-car is fine...That's what Andrew said?" Jamie asked, her face turning a shade darker. "Okay, let's table this until tomorrow. I'll give you a definitive answer then."

Jamie hung up and braced herself against the wall. "I've created a monster."

Mercedes tried not to smile, but it was difficult. Jamie didn't ever get fl.u.s.tered, but Mercedes had lived with Andrew during her formative years and she knew better. "Problem?"

Jamie blew out a breath. "Andrew. He keeps interfering in my wedding plans."

"Well, he is part of the ceremony," added Sheldon. "A key part."

"You don't understand. We had this discussion, almost a debate."

"An argument?" asked Mercedes.

"No, not an argument." Jamie worked her mouth for a moment, putting the words together. "In the beginning, we created a plan and a budget, and everything was wonderful. I was determined to stick to that plan, but then one of Andrew's golf buddies started bragging about his daughter's wedding, some big foo-foo thing at St. Patrick's, and Andrew decided that I should have something bigger, more romantic. It's completely not like him to do this, but he's worried that I won't be satisfied. I won't be satisfied? He's going to blow our budget by four hundred percent. Now that will make me unsatisfied."

"He's made up his mind about this?" asked Mercedes, because when Andrew made up his mind, well, it wasn't going to change. Jamie might as well throw in the towel now.

"I don't want doves or horse-drawn carriages," Jamie insisted.

"It could be worse," added Sheldon.

"How?"

"You could rent a Hummer Limo for the getaway car."

Mercedes laughed, because Jamie had met Andrew when they were forced to share a Hummer Limo ride to Connecticut. Complications ensued when they shared more than a ride.

However, instead of laughing, Jamie's eyes flashed with an a-ha gleam. "Sheldon, that's perfect!"

Sheldon looked startled. "Really?"

Jamie nodded, her lips curving up with fond memories. "Yes. But I want it to be a surprise. And no horse-drawn carriages. I will make this budget, I will."

Mercedes thought Jamie was fighting a losing battle, but Jamie was made of tough stuff. She sat down on the tiny, pearl-encrusted bench and looked at her sister-in-law-to-be. "Are you getting nervous?" she asked curiously.

"Why would I be nervous?"

Actually, Jamie seemed completely unfazed about putting her entire future into the hands of one man. "A lot of people would be nervous about getting married."

"Maybe so, but they aren't marrying Andrew."

Mercedes loved her brother, thought he was the best, but still....

"How're the book sales coming?" asked Sheldon.

Mercedes made a pickle face. "Eh."

Jamie looked up. "Your book's out?"

"Yes."

Jamie clicked into her PDA and then looked up triumphantly. "Just ordered seven copies from Amazon."

Mercedes's jaw dropped, awed at Jamie's super-caffeinated level of productivity. Mercedes was slightly in awe of her. "Thanks," Mercedes said. "It's appreciated."

"How was San Francisco? The show was pretty good. I TiVoed it, because GE was releasing their earnings after the market closed, and I needed to update a report for a client, but Andrew and I watched it later. I thought you were good."

The a.s.sociate returned with the shoes, and Sheldon pulled hers on. "Your segment was too short, though, and Jeff said you kept tapping your fingers on the table. You really should let him give you media training. It'd help."

"Thanks," answered Mercedes, sitting in a chair, tugging off her shoes.

"How was Sam?" asked Sheldon, in a sly voice.

"Who?" asked Mercedes, trying not to remember his fingers on the arch of her foot.

"Your host?" asked Jamie, suddenly ganging up on her as well. At that point, Mercedes knew she'd been tag-teamed. Outmaneuvered by her brothers'wenches. It was demeaning, because at one time, n.o.body had pulled this off better than Mercedes herself. Pooh. She was slipping.

"Oh, that Sam. Yeah, he was good. Nice."

"What was the look for? The one you gave him right at the end of the show? Jeff said something that I can't repeat, but I was right there with him."

Mercedes forced a laugh. "I write s.e.xy stuff, so I want to keep that image for the press. It's my persona."

Jamie stood, a shoe tapping in her hand. "Yeah, uh, huh."

Mercedes buried her face in her hands. "Guys, please don't tell me that I embarra.s.sed myself on national TV."

Jamie came over and patted her on the shoulder. "I wouldn't have noticed it myself until Andrew pointed it out. He said you used to look at-what was that guy's name?"

"Johnny D'Amato?" offered Sheldon.

"Yup, that's the one. Andrew said you had it really, really bad for this Johnny dude in high school and you used to flash him the look. Did it work in high school?"

Mercedes lifted her head. "Yeah."

Sheldon wiggled her brows. "Did it work in San Francisco?"

"I am not saying a word. My lips are sealed. Not saying a word."

"That's a yes," laughed Jamie.

"It's a no."

Sheldon shook her head. "No, if it was a no, you would have just said no."

"It was a no," insisted Mercedes.

"Sure thing, Mercedes. We believe you."

"Can we try on dresses now?" asked Mercedes, needing to run away and hide in the dressing room before the evil women pulled more secrets out of her. She grabbed the fluted gown from the hanger, and zoomed into the dressing area.

"How's Andreas?" asked Sheldon.

Mercedes shrugged into the dress, pulling up the sleeves. "I broke up with him. Not that we were actually in a relationship that could be broken up, but in case he thought that, I broke up with him."

"Really? Why'd you do that?"

"Just tired of the B.S."

Sheldon giggled. "Mercedes? Mercedes Brooks? Is it the real Mercedes Brooks? You live and die by the B.S."

"Maybe in the past."

"There's a difference in the Mercedes of the past and the Mercedes of the now? Why?"

"I don't know," answered Mercedes, looking at herself in the mirror, and frowning. That was her, but it didn't feel like her. She felt older, smarter, sadder.

"I'm glad you broke up with him. He treated you like garbage and it's about time you realized it."

"He didn't treat me that bad."

"Did, too," added Jamie.

"Fine, judge me, all of you who are both happily involved in stable, healthy relationships."

"There's a guy at the office I could fix you up with," yelled Jamie. "He's nice, but he's a bit boring."

"No," answered Mercedes.

"What kind of guy do you want?" asked Sheldon.

"I don't know," replied Mercedes.

"Don't give me that. You write erotic fiction for a living. You have to know in explicit detail exactly what sort of man you want."

"s.e.x and a relationship are two different things," she explained patiently. "s.e.x is easy. Relationships are root ca.n.a.l-esque in their pain."

"Let's a.n.a.lyze the painful choice first, shall we? What do you want in a relationship?"

"He's got to be ripped," commented Jamie.

"Andrew isn't ripped," answered Mercedes, wondering if this tell-tale clue meant that the guy you fantasized about wasn't meant to be the guy you were meant to be with.