Veil of Night by Linda Howard

Sean and she held up one finger for Estefani to wait. She took a deep breath, plastered a smile on her face, and answered in a sweet voice.
    “Hi, honey.”
    Sean was cute, rich, and gullible. What more could a woman ask for in a husband? For now, she let him have his way in almost everything, but that would change after the wedding. Once she walked down the aisle, she’d be in the driver’s seat. Actually, she already was; getting Sean to propose had been the first big step, but just yesterday she’d taken the second step, the money step. Things were working out just as she’d planned.
    Sean was planning the honeymoon. It kept him busy, and out of her hair, and he was excited about being in charge and giving her the perfect honeymoon. Thank goodness he took her hints to heart. He was taking care of the last details today, and wanted her opinion. She simply agreed with everything he said, smiling the whole time because the smile was part of the persona she’d created to catch and keep Sean. Physically smiling changed the tone of her voice, kept it light and sweet.
    She glanced up to find the wedding planner and the veil-maker staring at her as if she’d sprouted another head. Piss on ’em. Soon she wouldn’t have any need of them. She listened to Sean’s plans, laughed as if he were saying things that were either witty or amusing, told him how wonderful he was and how much she loved him, all the usual bullshit.
    As she and Sean talked, she watched Jaclyn and Estefani move across the room, where they huddled with Bishop Delaney and Audrey Whisenant, the pastry chef. The caterer, Irena, stood off to the side making notes and didn’t join them, but the reception hall manager—Melissa somebody—walked over to add her two cents’ worth of nonsense. Carrie couldn’t hear what they were saying; she had to concentrate on Sean, who kept rattling on even though he’d already covered the reasons why he’d called, but from the look Estefani threw at her Carrie knew they were talking about her. Jaclyn’s tone was soothing, which meant she was probably telling them she’d deflect Carrie’s complaints.
    Cold rage bubbled through her veins at the idea of anyone thinking she could be handled, as if she were a difficult child. And Jaclyn, with her smooth skin and her smooth hair and the way she had of dressing as if she were really old money and embedded in the Buckhead social structure, instead of being nothing more than a wedding planner, made her even angrier. If it hadn’t been for Jaclyn, things might have gone differently, but from the beginning she’d been an obstacle instead of a help … and now she was talking about Carrie, undermining her even more. That simply couldn’t be allowed to happen.
    “If the custom-made crystals hadn’t already been ordered, I’d be out of here,” Bishop Delaney told Jaclyn. “But I don’t want to be hung out to dry on that expense, so I’ll see it through. I won’t ever take another job for the Dennisons, though.”
    “Thanks for sticking it out. I’m sorry the job has been such a disaster, for all of us.” Jaclyn felt as if she’d been apologizing since she’d first walked through the door. Come to think of it, she had . So far Gretchen had been the only vendor to quit—though the bridesmaids’ dresses were finished so she hadn’t left the job in the lurch. Estefani might walk out at any moment, though. Her veils and headdresses were works of art and she was justifiably proud of them. Her schedule was packed; she wouldn’t miss the income from this job at all. In fact, she could probably make two phone calls at the most and have an open slot filled. That was what Carrie didn’t seem to realize, that she was dealing with top-flight vendors whose reputations were already made, and who didn’t have to put up with her demands and insults.
    “I’ve never before dealt with anyone this difficult,” Melissa whispered. She’d been the manager of the reception hall