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even though she’d spent little more than an hour, if that much, in his company. He might not insist on having a woman’s undivided attention, but she had the feeling that the sheer force of his personality would make him as hard to ignore as an elephant in the living room. Just because he’d been playing nice tonight didn’t mean she couldn’t see the force beneath that civilized veneer. As a general rule, the meek and mild didn’t become cops. And as another general rule, cops were almost perpetually on call even on their days off, worked long, irregular hours, and, like marrying a doctor, a woman should go into a relationship with a cop accepting that the job wasn’t a regular nine-to-fiver in either schedule or importance. Having Eric around would do nothing but muck up her orderly life.
    Not that she’d mind being mucked by him.
    Crap!
    Exasperated by the way her thoughts kept going back to him, Jaclyn rummaged in her bag, snagged her cell phone, and hit the speed dial for her mom.
    Her mother answered with her usual, confident “Madelyn Wilde,” her husky voice touched with a Southern accent deeper and richer than Jaclyn’s. Madelyn had the type of accent that could turn a two-syllable word into four, slow and redolent with a lazy charm that was in no way reflected in her personality. Madelyn was charming, beyond a doubt, but she was also tough and ballsy. She’d been a rock for Jaclyn during the tough days when her marriage was disintegrating beneath her, though maybe that was more along the lines of returning the favor, because Jaclyn had comforted her mother more times than one could count during Madelyn’s own breakup with Jaclyn’s dad.
    “How did the rehearsal go?” Jaclyn asked. Sometimes she and her mother shared the duties of an event, if bookings were slow, but when things were busy they would split up. This week, things were way beyond merely “busy.”
    “As smoothly as can be expected,” Madelyn drawled, her tone calm and amused. “The groom was late, the bride went into hysterics because she thought he was leaving her at the altar, never mind that they weren’t even at the altar yet, and one of the bridesmaids showed up with a black eye. A door, she said, but no one believed that story. I heard she got drunk at one of the showers, knocked over the punch bowl, and the ladle hit her in the eye.”
    Jaclyn took a moment to imagine that scenario, and couldn’t keep the smile out of her voice. “Since you didn’t call earlier with bad news, I’m assuming the groom arrived and the wedding is on.”
    “Yes, and Peach called a friend of hers who’s a whiz with makeup. She made an appointment for the girl. Tomorrow evening, no one will realize that one of the bridesmaids is sporting a shiner.”
    Peach was Madelyn’s friend and assistant, and together the two women could work wonders. It was a large part of the reason Premier not only survived, but thrived. Between the two of them, they knew almost everyone who was anyone in the Buckhead area—and in Buckhead, everyone was someone. What made Premier different was their ability to handle any situation with aplomb, and Jaclyn was definitely her mother’s daughter.
    Middle-of-the week weddings were unusual but not unheard-of. The happy couple had been able to snag the reception site they wanted for a bargain price, and they hadn’t been forced to wait months for the church to be available for the ceremony. The affair wasn’t one of the big, extravagant presentations, but Premier handled weddings in all price ranges, and how many duties Jaclyn and Madelyn handled depended on how much the bride wanted to spend.
    Madelyn sighed, and asked the inevitable question. “How did your meeting with the bride from hell go?”
    “I didn’t kill her, if that’s what you’re asking,” Jaclyn said drily. Even though she was the one handling Carrie Edwards’s wedding, no detail was unshared. Madelyn and Peach knew everything about the problems