The Ashtons - Cole, Abigail & Megan

balustrade. Crossing her arms over her chest, she tipped her head to one side and asked, “So. What do you want me to do, boss?”
    Megan nearly laughed. Boss indeed. Nobody told Paige what to do. Of course, that was probably an Ashton family trait, since Megan didn’t take orders any better than her sister did.
    And at that thought, memories of a conversationshe’d had with her father just two nights ago filled her mind briefly before she shut them off. Another man used to giving orders and expecting them to be obeyed. But, she didn’t have time right now to worry about what Spencer Ashton was going to say when she refused to go along with his latest plan.
    At the moment, she had her own predicament to pull out of the fire.
    “This cannot be happening,” she muttered and started pacing, the sound of her heels clicking furiously against the polished river stones. “The food’s hot, the cake is gorgeous, the musicians have been tuning up for a half hour.” She threw her hands wide, then let them slap down against her thighs. “There are reporters, for heaven’s sake, stationed right outside the hall. The minister’s inside tapping his foot and the groom is probably chewing on rocks. Why would the stupid bride do this to me?”
    “Um,” Paige pointed out, “my guess is she wasn’t thinking about you.”
    “Right.” Megan inhaled slowly and exhaled the same way. She tried a quick chant, but didn’t have the patience for that, so she jumped right back at her problem. “Okay, fine. We just have to do the best we can.”
    “And that is…?”
    Megan pulled in another deep breath and held it for a moment or two, just to steady herself. “You go into the hall and mingle. Chat up the guests and keep smiling, for pity’s sake.”
    “Uh-huh,” Paige said, pushing away from the stone railing. “Then what?”
    “Then,” Megan said, settling her phone’s headset back into place, “wait. I’ll talk to the groom, tell him what’s going on and let him decide how he wants to handle it.”
    “Better you than me,” Paige said.
    Megan snorted. “Yeah. This must be why I make the big bucks, huh?”
    Simon Pearce checked his gold wristwatch for the dozenth time in the last ten minutes. According to schedule, he should have entered the hall five minutes ago and even now be just about hitting the I do phase of the ceremony.
    He tapped one finger against the glass face of the watch and tried to quell the licks of anger lapping at his insides. This delay would only foster more delays in the remainder of the day’s schedule—and that was unacceptable.
    “Want me to find out what’s going on?”
    Simon shook his head at his friend and assistant, Dave Healy. “No. Give it one more minute, then I’ll ask some questions.”
    Dave shrugged and leaned one shoulder against the far wall. “It’s your funeral.”
    “Wedding, you mean?”
    Dave smiled. “All in the way you look at it.”
    “Right.” Simon paced the confines of the smallantechamber off the main hall. Dave had never been in favor of Simon marrying Stephanie. Since Dave himself was happily married to his college sweetheart, he was under the impression that love should have something to do with a wedding. Well, Simon knew differently. Love only got in the way. Muddied the waters. Better to deal with a marriage as you would with any business merger.
    He stalked to the wide bank of leaded windows overlooking the pool and gardens, and stared blankly out at the early spring day. Most of the trees were still bare-limbed and the rosebushes were just beginning to pop with buds. But there were a few splashes of deep rose and burnt orange from an assortment of fall and winter flowers lining the walkway leading to the pool house. He concentrated on those as his brain worked.
    He thought of Stephanie Moreland, the woman he should have been marrying at that moment. They’d known each other for several months and when Simon had proposed only six weeks ago, she’d accepted with calm dignity. Exactly as he would have expected her to react.
    She was just what he was looking for in a wife. Elegant, intelligent and wealthy enough in her own right that he needn’t be worried she was after him for his money. Though there were no starry bursts of excitement when they were together, Simon was content enough. He needed a wife—specifically to helphim in business. There were quite a few firms out there who were old-fashioned enough to think that an unmarried man