in wrapped her arms around his neck, so grateful to be back in his warmth that she dragged him over the stick shift to get him closer to her.

“Ouch,” Cal said.

“Sorry,” Min said, trying to pull back.

“Not a problem,” Cal said, holding on. “God I’ve missed you.” He kissed her and the glittering heat flared low just like always, except that this time she wasn’t fighting it and it went everywhere. She clutched at him, amazed that he was kissing her again, breaking the kiss to kiss him again, over and over until he stopped to breathe.

“Listen,” she said. “About my heart. Don’t break it.”

“Right. Me, too.” Cal pulled her back, and she fell into him and lost herself, drunk on the knowledge that she could have him, would have him, that everything was going to be wonderful. She felt his hand slide under her shirt and touch her breast, and she shuddered against him and bit his lip, and his hand tightened on her, and then her cell phone rang.

He pulled back, breathing hard, his eyes dark for her, and she held on to him.

“Ignore it,” she said, gasping, “it’s Diana, she calls twelve times a day, come back here and love me,” and he shook his head.

“Answer it,” he said, between breaths. “We have to stop. We’re parked on a public road.”

“I don’t care,” she said, reaching for him again.

He put the car in gear. “Your place or mine, Minnie, not in a car.”

“Whatever’s closer,” Min said, and answered the phone to stop the ringing as Cal pulled out into traffic.

“Min,” Diana said, her voice tight. “Oh, Min, we’re in trouble”

“Okay,” Min said, trying not to sound dizzy with lust. “What?”

“The rehearsal dinner,” Di said. “Greg was going to get the caterers because he could get us this deal.”

“Oh.” Min looked at Cal, who was much too far away. “Greg was going to get the caterers for the rehearsal dinner. In four hours.”

“I hate Greg,” Cal said.

Diana sounded as breathless as Min felt. “Mom’s going to crucify Greg and he’s already a nervous wreck. This is my perfect wedding.”

“Okay,” Min said. “Let me think.” Cal, naked, in my bed, in me. No, not that thought.

“What are we going to do? There’s nothing,” Di said.

“I’m trying to think,” Min said and met Cal’s eyes for a long moment, until the car drifted and hit the edge of the pavement and Cal yanked it back.

“Where is this dinner?” he said, keeping his eyes on the road.

“At some bed and breakfast near the chapel,” Min said. “Down by the river. Why?”

“How many people?” Cal said.

“Fourteen, I think,” Min said and spoke into the phone. “Dinner for fourteen, right?”

“Yes,” Diana said.

“We can do it,” Cal said. “Tell her it’s okay.”

“We can?” Min said. “We who?”

“Tony and Roger and I worked in a restaurant, remember? We’ll get supplies from Emilio’s, you make chicken marsala, and they’ll plate it and serve it. Your parents don’t know Tony and Roger so they’ll buy them as servers. It’ll work.”

“I’m making chicken marsala?” Min said, and then thought, What the hell. “Okay, I’m making chicken marsala.” She spoke into the phone. “We’ve got it covered. Relax. Your job is to give Mom a story if Cal and I are late and to make sure the back door to that kitchen is open. We’ll do everything else.”

“Oh, thank God,” Di said. “I didn’t interrupt anything, did I?”

“Yes,” Min said. “But it’s okay. We have a couple of hours before we have to cook. You can do a lot in a couple of—”

“No, you don’t,” Diana said. “Are you crazy? You’ve got the last fitting right now. We thought you were on your way. We’re here now. We’re waiting for you. You can’t miss the fitting. Mom will kill you. I need you. You can’t—”

“Right. Now,” Min said. “I forgot.”

“Don’t tell me,” Cal said as he slowed the car.

“Fitting,” she said to him. “I have a fitting right now. I have to—”

“Not a problem,” Cal said, taking a deep breath. “I’ll drop you off at the fitting, I’ll get the food for the dinner, we’ll cook, we’ll go to the dinner, and then—”

“I have to spend the night with my sister,” Min said, closing her eyes. “I hate it, but it’s the night before her wedding, I promised—”

“Fine,” Cal said. “Not a problem.”

“Maybe not for you,” Min said, and thought, Loud voice, loud voice. She took a deep breath. “I want you now. I want—”

“Oh, Christ,” Cal said. “I’m trying to be—”

“Min?” Diana said from the other end of the phone.

“I’ll be there,” Min told her and hung up.

“Where’s the fitting?” Cal said, his voice resigned.

“Bridal department at Finocharo’s,” Min said bitterly. “Why couldn’t Greg have been in charge of the dresses?”

Cal drove to the store, kissed her several times, and then drove off to get the dinner supplies, and it wasn’t until he was gone that she realized that he still hadn’t mentioned the bet.

We didn’t have time, she thought. There’s a good reason, I didn’t give him a chance, and even if there’s not a good reason, I don’t care, nothing is going to screw this up for me.

Then she went to face her mother and that damn corset.

“You’re late again,” her mother said as she came through the door.

“Hi, Mom,” Min said, prepared to savage her if she said anything nasty.

“Eat this,” Nanette said and handed her an apple.

“Why?” Min said.

“Because God knows what those caterers that Greg got will make. He is completely unreliable. And you know he didn’t tell them not to use butter. So fill up on that.”

“On this.” Min looked at the apple, shook her head, and put it down to go jam herself into the corset. Half an hour later, the fitter left Min’s dressing room, and Min stared at herself in the mirror, all heat gone, and thought, I’d kill myself, but this is not the last thing I want to see before I go.

She was once again in the blue skirt that zipped up only when she sucked in all the air in the room, the lavender chiffon blouse that still pulled across the bust, and the new blue corset that only laced shut when Min gave up breathing and the fitter used the force of ten. And she wasn’t going to be taking any deep breaths now that the damn thing was on: one good heave and she’d pop out the top of it.

Why would Cal want to sleep with somebody who looks like this?

Min came out of the dressing room, and Nanette said, “It still doesn’t fit,” in a tone that did not bode well for her fat daughter.

“As God is my witness, I have followed that diet,” Min said to her, feeling depressed. “Mostly.”

“You’ve had a year,” her mother said bitterly. “And now you’re going to ruin Diana’s beautiful wedding.”

“Here’s an idea.” Min tried to tug the corset up. “Why don’t I sprain an ankle and Karen can be the maid of honor? That way the entire wedding party will be beautiful and thin, and—”

“No,” Diana said from the doorway, and they both turned to her.

“Not your loud voice, dear,” Nanette said.

Di pointed at Min. “You’re my sister and you’re going to be my maid of honor and you’re going to look beautiful because that lavender is just your color and it’s all going to be perfect.” She had the same maniacal look in her eye that Nanette did, so Min shut up.

“Well, there’s nothing we can do about it now.” Nanette stood up, disgusted. “You were late, and we have a million things to do. The dinner’s in three hours, for heaven’s sake. You’ll have to try on the rehearsal dinner dress without us.”

“Rehearsal dinner dress?” Min said. “Why—”

“I found something for you that will be slimming.” Nanette shook her head at her eldest daughter, the disappointment. “Make sure the hem is in the right place. If it cuts you at the knees, your legs will look like fence posts.”

“Thank you, Mother,” Min said, figuring this was a fight she didn’t care about. She just felt tired.

Her mother stopped and met her eyes. “I know you think I’m awful. But I know how the world works. And it’s not kind to fat people, Min. It’s especially not kind to fat women. I want to see you happy and safe, married to a good man, and it’s not going to happen if you don’t lose that weight.”

“She’s not fat,” Diana said from behind her. “She is NOT FAT.”

“Not your loud voice,” Nanette said, and Diana glared at her.

“Screw my loud voice, stop telling her she’s fat.” Diana stopped, looking as surprised as Nanette and Min that she’d said it. She went on, in a calmer voice. “Leave her alone.”

Nanette shook her head and leaned forward to grip Min by the upper arms. “I just want you to be happy,” she said, and then stopped and squeezed Min’s arms again. “Have you been lifting weights the way I told you to? Because if your arms aren’t toned, those chiffon sleeves—”

“We have to go now,” Diana said, pushing her mother toward the door. “We’ll be late as it is.” She turned back at the door and said, “You look great,” before she left, too.

“Yeah,” Min said and turned back to look at herself in the mirror. The chiffon blouse wasn’t too bad, but her breasts were just obnoxious. “Oh, Lord,” she said, and tried to sit down but the skirt was too tight.

“Wait a minute, wait a minute,” the fitter said and scurried around behind her to unzip the skirt before it split.

“I hate this,” Min said as she stepped out of the skirt.

“The color is wonderful on you,” the fitter said, and Min looked back into the mirror and thought, She’s right. Diana has a perfect eye for that kind of thing. “You’re lucky you didn’t get the green one,” the fitter went on as she unlaced the corset and Min began to breathe again. “The colors are going to look lovely going down the aisle, green and blue and your blue-violet, but the little blonde who has to wear the green is so unhappy about it.”

Wet, Min thought. Well, that’s what you get for dating the groom.

“Now, I’ll bring you the dinner dress, and we’ll get you all fixed up.”

“Yeah,” Min said. She took the blouse off and stood looking at herself in the mirror. Full breasts, full hips, full thighs... She tried to remember what Cal had said but her mother’s voice was louder.

“Here we go,” the fitter said, coming back. “We’ll just slip this over your head...”

Min looked at herself in the mirror as the dresser zipped her up. Her mother had chosen black, of course, a sheath dress with a vertical white insert down the front that made her look vaguely like a penguin. V-shaped inserts at the waist were supposed to give the illusion of a waistline but instead made her look like a penguin whose bow tie was riding low.

“It’s very slimming,” the fitter said.

“Right,” Min said, and picked up her mother’s apple. “Slimming.”

From behind her Cal said, “God, that’s an ugly dress,” and she turned to see him leaning in the doorway, holding a bottle of wine and two glasses.

Min’s heart gave a leap. “Oh, good, it’s you.”

“What were you thinking, Minnie?” Cal said, coming into the room, his eyes on hers. “Take that thing off. It’s an insult to your body.”

“Only one of many today,” Min said. “My mother picked this out. She has excellent taste.”

“I don’t think so.” Cal put everything on the low table by the couch. “I could pick out a better dress than that.”

“You’re on,” Min said. “I’ll give you five minutes while I eat this apple, and then we’re hemming this thing so my legs don’t look like fence posts. Did you bring a corkscrew? I could use the wine, too.”

Cal took the apple out of her hand. “Apples and wine? I don’t think so.” He tossed the apple in the small gold wastebasket beside the table and pulled a corkscrew out of his pocket. “Your legs are great. Take that dress off. There must be a better one someplace.”

“Downstairs,” the fitter said eagerly, looking at Cal as if he were the best thing she’d ever seen.

Min looked at Cal and remembered he was gorgeous.

“Hi.” Cal smiled at the fitter. “I’m Cal.”

“Hi,” she said back, smiling wider. “I’m Janet.”

Oh, for crying out loud, Min thought.

“Janet, you look like you have exceptional taste,” Cal said to her. “I know you didn’t pick that thing out.”

“No, no,” Janet said, disavowing all knowledge.

“I bet you could find her the perfect dress,” Cal said, looking right into her eyes, sincerity made flesh. “Maybe something bright red.”

“Blue,” Janet said. “She looks wonderful in blue or violet.”

“So she does. Go find a great blue dress and we’ll celebrate with a drink.”

Janet hesitated. “Mrs. Dobbs was very clear...”

“I’ll take care of Mrs. Dobbs,” Cal said. “You take care of the dress.”

When Janet was gone, Cal screwed the corkscrew into the cork and yanked it, and the cork popped out without a fight. Then he poured her a glass. “Here. You’re tense.”

“My mother was here,” Min said, taking the glass and wishing he was touching her. Except she was fat.

“That explains why Janet looked like a deer caught in headlights.” Cal looked over his shoulder. “She’s not here and you haven’t kissed me in an hour, Minerva. Come here.”

Min stepped down off the platform and went to him, loving the way his arms went around her, trying not to think about how fat she must feel under his hands, and then he kissed her hard, and she sighed against him, grateful to have him even if she didn’t know why he wanted her.

The bet.

Nope, never, that was not it, she believed in him.

“What’s wrong?” he said.

Min shook her head. “Rough fitting.”

“Let me guess,” he said. “Your mother. Ignore her. Think about me.”

She smiled in spite of herself, and he kissed her again, his mouth gentle on hers, and she felt the tension in her body begin to ease.

“There you go,” he said, patting her back. “Now drink your wine. I’m going to get you drunk and then have my way with you under the table at the rehearsal dinner.”

“Oh, if only,” Min said and sipped her wine.

Half a glass of wine and several kisses later, Min was feeling much better, and Janet came back with a hanger full of something dark purple and slinky.

“You’re kidding me,” Min said. “This is for me, remember?”

“No, this one’s for me,” Cal said, looking at it on the hanger. “I’m taking you to this thing and I’m not going to look at a butt-ugly dress all night.”

“Leave,” Min said. “I’m not undressing in front of you.” Yet. She thought of Nanette grabbing her arm and squeezing. Maybe never.

“Well, a guy can hope,” Cal said, and took his wine out the door with him.

When he was gone, Janet said, “That’s your boyfriend?”

“Yes,” Min said, surprised to realize he was.

“My God, he’s beautiful,” Janet said.

“He’s nice, too,” Min said. “But about this dress—”

“No, it’ll be good,” Janet said, shaking the dress out as she held it up. “Your boyfriend likes it. Does he know anything about women’s clothes?”

“I think he’s removed a lot of them,” Min said, stripping off the penguin dress.

“He could remove mine,” Janet said and then froze. “Sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“Not a problem,” Min said, handing her the penguin dress. “I’m used to it. How does this one go on?”

“You pull it over your head,” Janet said, giving her the purple dress. “It’s a draped surplice top.”

“I don’t know.” Min held the dress up.

“Try it on,” Janet said. “He likes it.”

“And he brought me wine,” Min said. “Where’s my glass?” She tossed back the rest of her glass and then, with a sigh, pulled the dress over her head and looked in the mirror.

There were many things right with the dress. The surplice neck made her look thinner and the way it draped over her breasts was downright sexy as long as she didn’t slump. And the drape made her hips look voluptuous instead of buslike. But still, this was the kind of dress that thin women wore, this was—

“The handkerchief hem is genius,” Janet said. “He’s right, you do have good legs. They’re just... curvy.”

“Thank you,” Min said. “The rest of me is curvy, too.”

“You look really sexy in this,” Janet said. “I’ll go get him so he can see.”

“I’ll have some more wine,” Min said, but the dresser was already gone, Cal-hunting. Min poured a second glass and sipped it while she stared into the mirror. The dress was a vast improvement over the penguin dress. Plus her mother would be annoyed, which served her right. Even better, she wouldn’t be able to say anything because Min could tell her that Cal liked it. “So, okay,” Min said, toasting her reflection, and knocked back the entire glass. The warmth of the wine spread through her, melding nicely with the warmth from Cal’s kisses, and she sighed.

She was bending over the table to get a third glass of wine when Cal came back.

“I hear you look—” he began and stopped.

“What?” Min said, looking up from the wine.

“Uh,” he said and she followed his eyes to her cleavage, most of which was displayed because the surplice was gaping. “You look good,” Cal said with enough tension in his voice to make it an understatement.

“It’s not a fat dress,” Min said, turning back to the mirror. “It doesn’t hide anything.”

“Haven’t we talked about this?” Cal said, coming to stand behind her.

“Yes, but my mother has talked since then,” Min said. “Also, there’s this mirror which tells me I don’t have much of a waistline.”

“You have a waistline.” Cal put his hands on her hips. “It’s right here.” He slid his hands across her stomach and she shivered, watching him touch her in the mirror. With Cal’s hands on her, she looked different, good, and when he pulled her back against his chest, she relaxed into him and let her head fall back on his shoulder. “Very sexy dress,” he whispered into her ear, and then kissed her neck. She drew in her breath and he whispered, “Very sexy woman,” and moved his hand up to her neckline, drawing his finger down the edge of the silky fabric, making her shudder as the heat spread and she began to feel liquid everywhere.

“I have to stop drinking wine when I’m with you,” she whispered to him in the mirror. “I start believing all this garbage you tell me.”

He grinned at her, his reflection warming her as much as his body against her back.

She bit her lip. “It feels so good to be alone with you. And I can’t because we have to go to this rehearsal dinner, we have to make this rehearsal dinner, and then tomorrow I’ve got to go to this wedding in a ridiculous dress and I’m feeling fat again.”

“That’s because you’re not paying attention,” Cal said in her ear. “Look at yourself.”

“I am,” she said, and he said, “Not the way I look at you.” His hand moved up her side and he whispered, “Look at the beautiful curve of you, how full you are,” and as his voice in her ear made her dizzy, his hand moved up around her breast.

She turned her head and said, “Hey!” and brought her hand up to move his, and he stopped her breath with his mouth, kissing her hard, catching her hand to press her open palm against the warm heaviness of her breast, and she thought, That feels so good, and let the heat wash over her.

“Look how beautiful you are,” he whispered in her ear as he laced his fingers in her other hand. “There’s not a man alive who could see you like this and not want to touch you.” He rolled her other hand so her palm was against her stomach and slid it up to her breast. “You’re a fantasy, Min. You’re my fantasy.”

He pressed both her palms against her breasts and she felt the fullness there and shuddered under his hands and believed him. She turned in his arms and kissed him with everything she had, pressing herself against him with no other thought than to get close, loving how hard his body felt against hers, the way her body yielded to him, the heat of his hands on her as they slid down and pulled her to him. She arched her hips against him, bit his lip and licked his mouth, felt him shaking as she whispered, “I want you,” and heard his breath shudder as he kissed her on the neck and then softly bit the place he’d kissed.

“Whoops,” Janet said from behind them, and Min pulled back, dizzy and breathless.

“We’ll take the dress,” Cal said, without looking around, his voice husky.

“This is a very dangerous dress,” Min said, trying to catch her breath.

“That’s why we’re taking it,” Cal said, and kissed her again before he let her go.

When they got to the bed and breakfast, Diana had left the back door unlocked as promised. “It’s a decent kitchen,” Cal said when they’d unloaded the car. “We can work here.”

“It’s a great kitchen,” Min said with envy. She turned to Cal and said, “I think—” and he kissed her while she smiled against his mouth and moved closer to him. “What was that for?”

“Because I can,” Cal said and pulled her closer. Her cell phone rang, and he leaned back. “What did Greg forget now?”

Min clicked her phone on. “Hi.”

“Where are you? We’re at the B and B. Mom’s fussing over my dress,” Diana said, all in frantic whisper. “She wants to know where you are.”

“We’re downstairs getting ready to cook,” Min said, as Cal kissed her on the neck. She stifled a giggle and said, “Stall her.”

“She’s going to be mad at you,” Di said.

“And this is news,” Min said. “She’d have been mad when she saw my dress anyway. Cal picked it out. I look like a ho.” She felt Cal laugh against her hair.

“Really?” Di said. “What color is it?”

“Di—”

“I’ll stall Mom,” Di said. “Thank you!”

“You don’t look like a ho,” Cal said when Min clicked off her phone. “You look like an expensive call girl.” He slid his hand down to her rear end. “And I have money.”

“Try to think of cooking as foreplay,” Min said, and Cal sighed and started to unpack the food.

Fifteen minutes later, Min had the bottoms of four frying pans covered in hot olive oil, Cal had pounded sixteen chicken breasts flat as flounders and was washing mushrooms, and Diana had stuck her head in to say, “No butter. And thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“Where am I, by the way?” Min said as she began to dredge the chicken breasts.

“Cal’s car broke down and you’re somewhere on 275,” Di said.

“My car did not break down,” Cal said, stopping in mid-mushroom. “I keep that car in—”

“Thank you, that’ll work,” Min said, and Diana left. “I know, but can you park your male pride for the night?”

“What’s in it for me?” Cal said.

“My eternal gratitude,” Min said and leaned over the table and kissed him on the mouth, loving the way his mouth fit hers.

“How much gratitude?” Cal said, leaning to follow her as she pulled away.

“More than I can express in a single night,” Min said. “Slice some of those, will you? We need some for the salad.” She held the first chicken piece over the hot oil and stopped.

“Problem?” Cal said.

“No,” Min said and put down the chicken. She rummaged in one of the bags and pulled out a pound of butter. “You know,” she said as she opened the box, “you really can’t cook without a little butter.”

“Yep,” Cal said and grinned at her.

Min dropped a healthy pat into each of the four pans and inhaled the sweet smell. Then she smiled and dropped the chicken breasts in.

“They’ll never know anyway,” Cal said.

“My mother can smell butter on me three days after I’ve eaten it,” Min said. “She’ll know. I just don’t care. Tear up the romaine next, will you? I’ve got to steam beans.”

Half an hour later, Tony and Roger showed up in white shirts and black bow ties with Bonnie behind them.

“What?” Min said, trying not to laugh at the ties.

“Yeah, you snicker now, but you’re going to be impressed later,” Tony said, and did water goblets faster than she could have imagined, as Roger slung fourteen plates in a row and squirted raspberry sauce on them in a pattern and then plated salads that looked like they’d come from the Ritz.

“I’m impressed,” Min said.

“So am I,” Bonnie said from her stool at the end of the table where she was cutting scallions into strips, and Roger beamed at her as Tony carried the glasses out.

When Tony came back, he said, “They’re all out in the parlor, being polite. Di looks bored. Well, she did until she saw me in this tie.”

“Must be hell,” Min said over the steaming pan of beans. “I’d much rather be in here with you guys. From now on, I’m catering all my mother’s dinners.”

“Not once she tastes the butter,” Cal said, and helped Tony lay out another fourteen plates for the entrée.

Ten minutes later, the plates were ready for the chicken, the chicken looked like heaven simmering in its dark wine sauce, the green beans were tossed with the almonds and tied into bundles with the scallion strips, and Min was talking to herself.

“Salad, done,” she said to herself. “Meat, beans, done. Emilio’s corn relish, ready to plate. Rolls out of oven and in baskets. What have I missed? Oh, damn. Dessert.”

“I got dessert.” Cal picked up the last bag and pulled out two boxes that said KRISPY KREME.

“Doughnuts” Min said, appalled.

“Get me a cake plate,” Cal said, and Bonnie rummaged in the cupboard and found one. Then while they watched, he made a ring of seven chocolate-iced cake doughnuts with one in the middle topped by a ring of five chocolate cake doughnuts, topped by a ring of three vanilla-iced glazed, topped by one beautiful chocolate-iced Kreme on top, all stuck together with the white glaze icing that Bonnie had dribbled between the layers.

Min’s mouth began to water.

“I read about this,” Bonnie said, standing back. “It was in People magazine. People do this all the time.”

Cal picked up a box he’d set to one side, ripped it open, and dumped out a very small bride and groom under a plastic arch. It looked like hell until he shoved it into the top doughnut, and then it looked funky.

“This is the cake I want at my wedding,” Min said. “Of course, my mother is going to go into cardiac arrest.”

Cal grinned at her, and she laughed as she took off her apron. “You’re a genius, Calvin. I need one moment in the closet to put on my dress, and then it’s showtime.”

She changed as fast as she could, and when she came back she heard Tony say to Cal, “Okay, we got it. You can go—” He stopped when he saw her, and then Roger turned to follow his eyes and stopped, too, and Bonnie peered out from behind Roger.

“Oh, Min,” she said. “You look wonderful.”

“Very hot,” Tony said, staring at her, and Cal clipped him on the back of the head. “I’m just saying,” Tony said.

Cal handed the cake to Roger. “You guys can handle everything now?”

“Piece of cake,” Tony said, and Min stopped, startled. “What?” he said.

“Nothing.” Min shook her head and then checked her face in the mirror by the door to make sure she wasn’t wearing flour as foundation. The heat from the kitchen had flushed her skin and kinked her hair and she looked...

“You look beautiful,” Cal said, and Min turned and saw Roger and Tony with him, and realized that a month before, she hadn’t known any of these guys, and now they’d all come together to bail her sister out of trouble.

“This is so great of you,” she said to them. “This is so above and beyond the call of friendship.”

“Anything for you, babe,” Tony said. He bent down and kissed her cheek, and Min blushed, and Cal said, “Enough with the flirting with other men, Minerva,” and took her hand, and Roger patted her shoulder as Cal pulled her out the back door.

“Those are the best people,” she said to him, as they hit the gravel path around to the front of the house.

“Yes,” Cal said. “And now we get to have dinner with your family.”

“Oh, hell,” Min said.

Looking back on the rehearsal dinner later, Min was hard put to choose the low point of the evening.

There was the moment when Nanette spotted them coming through the door and was so caught off guard by Min’s purple dress that she stopped after “You’re late...” and just glared while Min braced herself.

But then Cal patted her on the back and Greg’s best man said, “Whoa,” and nodded at her.

“Thank you,” Min said.

“I told you so,” Cal said in her ear. “Stay away from him.”

Or there was the moment when Min saw Greg, who had decided to have his hair cut in a Caesar cut the day before his wedding, and looked, if possible, dumber than ever.

“Don’t ever do that,” Min whispered to Cal and Cal said, “No, I don’t think so.”

Or the moment when Roger and Tony were serving the salads, and Di grinned and said, “Gee, such cute waiters,” and Roger almost dropped Greg’s salad in his lap.

“Watch it,” Greg said sharply, and Di lost her smile.

“Very cute,” Min said, and frowned at Greg, who blinked back at her.

Or the moment when Greg’s mother said, “This chicken is delicious. Who did you say catered this?” and all eyes turned to Greg. Min let him flounder for a couple of seconds and then said, “Emilio’s, wasn’t it?”, throwing him a rope that he grabbed on to so gratefully she almost felt sorry for him.

That was followed by the moment when Nanette said, “There’s butter in this.”

“Yep,” Min said and kept eating while Cal patted her back.

But the low point probably came toward the end of the meal when Min’s cell phone rang. She looked over at Diana, startled, since Diana was the only one who would be calling her, and then remembered the trio in the kitchen. “I’ll be right back,” she said, and slipped outside to answer it. “Hello?”

“Min,” David said. “I’ve been trying to get you all day.”

“Why?” Min said. “Never mind, I don’t care. This is my sister’s rehearsal dinner, David. Go away.”

“It’s about Cal,” David said, and Min grew still. “I still care for you, Min, and you need to know something about Cal Morrisey.”

“Do I,” Min said flatly.

“That night he picked you up?” David said. “He did it because he made a bet that he could get you into bed in a month.”

“He did,” Min said, thinking, What a waste you are.

“The bet’s up next Wednesday, Min,” David said, sincerity oozing through the phone. “And Cal Morrisey does not lose. He’ll do anything to win that bet. I thought you should know. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Gee, thanks,” Min said.

“You don’t sound upset,” David said.

“Boys will be boys,” Min said.

“I thought you’d be shocked,” David said, sounding shocked himself.

“David, I knew,” Min said. “I overheard you. Which is why I also know that Cal didn’t make the bet, you did. It was your idea, which makes you the chief slimeball in this.”

“No,” David said hastily, “no, I was upset because we’d broken up—”

“David, you dumped me,” Min said. “What the hell were you upset about?”

“—I’ve regretted that bet a thousand times since, but Cal won’t call it off.”

“Asked him to, have you?” Min said, not believing him.

“Over and over,” David said.

“David?” Min said.

“Yes?” David said.

“Rot in hell,” Min said, and clicked off the phone.

She stood on the porch of the bed and breakfast and looked out over the river beyond. It was very pretty. “Damn,” she said. She believed in Cal, she really did, but that bet...

I’ll ask him after the wedding, she told herself. When she was out of that awful corset, when they were alone, when they could talk it out without Diana tugging on her arm for help, she’d ask him then.

Tomorrow night, she told herself and went back inside in time to catch what was definitely the high point of the evening, Nanette’s face when she saw the Krispy Kreme cake.

“Hey,” David said when Cynthie picked up the phone on Sunday afternoon. “I haven’t heard from you. What’s—”

“It’s over,” Cynthie said, and she sounded as if she’d been crying. “They’re in infatuation. It could be years before he comes to his senses. We lost, David.”

“No, we didn’t,” David said. “I don’t lose.”

“Cal loves her. He’s being honest with her. There’s nothing—”

“No, he isn’t,” David said, fed up with hearing about Cal. “He’s chasing her to win that damn bet.”

“What?” Cynthie said.

“Uh,” David said, trying to find a way to explain that without looking like slime.

“Tell me,” Cynthie said, her voice brooking no nonsense.

“That first night,” David said. “I was mad. And hurt. And—”

“David, I don’t care about you,” Cynthie said. “Tell me about the bet.”

“I bet Cal that he couldn’t get Min into bed in a month,” David said.

“Cal would not make that bet,” Cynthie said, her voice sure.

“Oh, because he’s too noble.”

“He distracted you with something else.”

“He bet me he could take her to dinner.”

“She left with him because you made a bet?” Cynthie said, fury in her voice.

“It wasn’t my fault,” David said.

“It doesn’t matter now anyway.” Cynthie’s voice dropped back into misery. “Even if you told her about the bet, she’d check with Cal.”

“She already knew,” David said, resentfully. “I called her and told her last night. She said she’d overheard us.”

Cynthie didn’t say anything.

“I think she went to dinner with him to make me mad,” David said. “He sounded like she was pretty snippy, so she must have made him pay, too.” The silence stretched on until David said, “Cynthie?”

“Does he know?” Cynthie said, her voice tight. “Does he know that she went out with him to make him pay?”

“I don’t think so,” David said. “He hasn’t called me to tell me the bet’s off, and once he knows that she knows, it’s off.”

More silence.

“Cynthie?”

“Do you know where Cal is now?” Cynthie said.

“No, but he’ll be at Diana’s wedding tonight,” David said. “What diff—”

“I know how to break them up,” Cynthie said, her voice like lead.

“How?” David said.

“Take me to the wedding. If she hasn’t slept with him yet, he’s frustrated to the breaking point. I’ll watch them, and if something makes him tense, if she turns him down again, if something goes wrong...” Cynthie paused again, and then he heard her take a deep breath. “I’ll tell you, and you go tell him that Min’s been making a fool of him all along. Tell him that everybody thinks he’s stupid.”

“That’s enough to break them up?” David said.

“That’s enough to give Cal nightmares for years,” Cynthie said, her voice miserable. “It’s illogical, but it’s been his trigger since he was a kid. Push that button and he explodes. If he does it in front of her family and friends—”

“Wow,” David said, impressed with her once again.

“What time is the wedding?” Cynthie said.

“Seven,” David said. “Diana wanted it at twilight. Some fairy tale garbage.”

“Pick me up at six,” Cynthie said, and hung up.

Min had spent the night with Diana, who’d been so manic that she’d still been up, fixing bows on cake boxes, when Min gave up and went to bed, too tired even to miss Cal. But the next day, Di was quiet, still tense but not manic with energy anymore.

“I just didn’t get enough sleep,” she told Min.

When they got to the chapel dressing room, Wet, Worse, and Nanette were waiting, and Min ducked Nanette and her hair combs (“Min, you look awful with your hair like that”), took the cake boxes to the reception hall next door, and then went into the bathroom at the chapel to put her dress on. She was not going to struggle into the damn thing while Nanette made comments and Worse smirked.

Something was very wrong, she thought as she tried to get the corset tied around her. Something besides her insane mother and the idiot wet and weeping bridesmaid in green, something beyond the cake Bonnie was now trying to decorate in orchids and pearls, something, she was pretty sure, much like the groom. I’ve got to talk to Di, Min thought, but what was she going to say? “You’re miserable and your groom is a moron and I think we should eat the cake and go home”?

“Oh, hell,” she said and left the bathroom to go back to her sister.

“You’re late,” Worse said, patting her ornate chignon as Min came into the room.

“Bite me,” Min said, and went to stand beside Di. “Hey, baby, what’s up?”

“Nothing,” Di said. “I’m just... glad you’re here.”

“Yes, I am in all my glory,” Min said, holding her arms out to show off her gaping corset.

“That corset’s not tight enough,” Nanette said, and turned her around. “Honestly, Min.” She untied the bow at Min’s neckline and then began to tighten the laces, working up from the bottom.

“Uh,” Min said, as her lungs constricted. “Mother.” She put her hand on the back of Di’s chair to stabilize herself as Nanette yanked on the ribbons. “I have to be able to... breathe... during... the ceremony.”

Nanette gave the ribbons a final excruciating pull at the top, tied them with a knot that would have had Boy Scouts staring in awe, and stood back to consider her work.

“Well, it’s the best I can do,” Nanette said, and Min thought, That pretty much sums up our entire relationship, and turned away from her, her hand on her side, trying to breathe and see Diana at the same time.

“Di?” Min said, and when Di didn’t say anything, she leaned over to see her sister’s face, constricting her lungs even more.

Di was staring into the mirror, her eyes huge, the line of her beautiful jaw rigid, and Min forgot she couldn’t breathe.

“Di? Are you all right?”

“Fine,” Di said faintly, not taking her eyes off the mirror.

“You look beautiful,” Min said. On Di, even the corset looked right. “Swanlike,” Min added, hoping to get a flicker.

“She’s just got pre-wedding jitters,” Wet said as she settled her wreath of ivy and white baby orchids on her smooth, blond hair. She looked miserable.

Worse nudged Min aside. “Go put your wreath on straight.” Her own wreath of cornflowers and orchids was perfectly centered on her head, balanced in back on her chignon.

“Oh, Min,” Nanette said. “Your wreath.”

Min picked up her wreath of lavender and orchids and slapped it on her head. At least it smelled good. She jammed a couple of hairpins in to hold it, watching Diana in the mirror the whole time.

Di met her eyes and sat up straighter. “Go away.”

“Okay,” Min said.

“Not you,” Di said. “Everybody but you.”

“What?” Worse said, stopping with her hands in midair, reaching for Diana’s wreath.

“Diana,” Nanette said, shocked.

Min took a look at Di’s frozen face. “Sister time. We’ll see you all outside in a minute.”

“Hey,” Worse said. “I’m a bridesmaid—” Then she saw Diana’s face and stopped.

“Out,” Min said, jerking her thumb toward the door.

“Well, I’m not going,” Nanette said. “This is my daughter’s wedding.”

“So go to it,” Min said. “Weren’t the pews all supposed to have flowers?”

“Honestly, Min,” Nanette said and stopped. “Of course they’re all supposed to have flowers.”

“Better check,” Min said, and Nanette took off for the chapel.

Wet picked up her bouquet of orchids, leaned over, and kissed Di’s cheek. “You look wonderful,” she whispered. “You look like a size two!” She handed Worse’s bouquet to her and pushed her toward the door, and Worse looked back, not so cocky anymore.

Then Min and Di were alone.

Min leaned against the counter and tried to work her fingers under the edge of the corset to gain a millimeter more of air so she could say what needed to be said. “Okay,” she said. “This is it. You tell me what’s wrong now, or I’m stopping this wedding.”

“I want a Krispy Kreme doughnut,” Di said, the threat of a sob under the words.

“I’ll get you one,” Min said, regrouping. “I’ll go out and—”

“I can’t have one,” Di said. “There are twelve grams of fat in every Krispy Kreme.”

“Well, yes,” Min said, “but I’m thinking since it’s your wedding day—”

“Everything is perfect,” Di said.

“Not even close,” Min said. “Listen, if you want out of this wedding, I’ll get the car keys from Cal, and you and I can go back to the apartment and drink champagne and eat many Krispy Kremes.”

“Want out?” Di straightened. “No. No.”

“Okay,” Min said. “But if you change your mind, I’m not kidding about the car keys and the doughnuts.”

“I won’t change my mind,” Di said. “This is my fairy tale wedding.”

“Then it’s time to go,” Min said, hoping action might jog something loose in Di’s brain.

Di stood up and Min held out her arms again to show her the corset.

“So what do you think?”

“This was a dumb idea,” Di said, her voice unsteady as she looked at Min. “Why would I put you in a corset?”

“So I’d have a waistline,” Min said.

“You have a waistline,” Di said. “It’s not a small waistline, but there’s nothing wrong with it.” She stood looking into Min’s eyes, breathtakingly beautiful, cold as ice.

“Okay,” Min said, taking her hand. “You have to tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing is wrong,” Di said. “Everything is perfect.”

Worse knocked on the door and poked her head in. “Are you ready?” she asked, sounding more tentative than Min had ever heard her. “Because we’re supposed to be lining up.”

Di ignored her, and Min said, “We’ll be right out.”

Worse opened the door farther. “You look wonderful, Di.”

Di picked up her bouquet.

“Wreath,” Min said, and Di reached down for the wreath of white orchids and roses and slapped it on her head, the fingertip-length veil askew. “Oh. Okay. I can just pin—”

But Diana was already crossing the room.

“I’ll fix it,” Worse said, giving Min her usual “You’re impossible” stare.

“I don’t think you can,” Min said, and picked up her bouquet and followed Diana out.