Wife On Approval. Leigh Michaels

      CHAPTER ONE

      THE deli had obviously been busy through the lunch hour, for when Paige came in, the serving counter looked as if it had been ravaged by a horde of hungry sailors. She eyed the feeble remains and said, “Just a cup of soup, please.”

      Looking doubtful, the woman at the counter stirred the contents of the big black soup kettle. “There’s not much left but broth, I’m afraid, Ms. McDermott. Now that the lunch rush is past, I’m just starting to restock the sandwich bar, if you’d rather have something heartier. The pastrami is extra good today, the mustard’s really hot, and the rye bread is so fresh you can smell it across the room.”

      Paige’s stomach churned at the very idea of the spicy combination. “No, thanks. The soup will do just ne.” She carried her thick stoneware mug over to a table where her two business partners were already seated.

      Sabrina looked up with a smile and pushed her sandwich wrappings aside to make room for Paige, tipping over her half-full iced tea glass in the process.

      Cassie fielded the glass, set it upright without losing a drop, and said without rancor, “Perhaps I was being foolish, Sabrina, to hope that falling in love and settling down would make you just a little less—”

      “Clumsy?” Sabrina asked brightly.

      “I was going to say, exuberant.”

      “You don’t need to hesitate for fear of hurting my feelings, darling. Caleb doesn’t—he says he’s going to have his tuxedo tailored out of the stuff they use for bulletproof vests, just in case I trip over the train of my gown and slam into him at the altar.”

      “Not only knocking down the groom but pushing all the ushers over like dominoes, I suppose,” Cassie mused.

      Ushers. Paige didn’t want to ask who Sabrina’s fiancé had ended up asking to accompany him at his wedding; she was afraid she already knew the answer. “Have you ever thought of eloping?” she asked.

      “Frequently,” Sabrina said dryly. “Especially since my mother got into the act and started coming up with ideas to make my wedding truly unique. But do I sense a little personal tension in that question? You can tell me, Paige. You don’t like the bridesmaids’ dresses I chose?”

      “I wouldn’t know,” Paige said. “I haven’t had time to get to the shop to look at them.”

      Cassie gathered up the remains of her lunch. “They’re absolutely luscious—but have you ever known Sabrina to choose something that’s not?”

      “Not exactly,” Paige murmured. “Sabrina’s taste is flawless—as long as we’re leaving Halloween costumes out of the discussion.”

      Sabrina sipped her tea. “You looked great in that costume, and you know it. Besides, Halloween is ancient history. Let’s not be distracted from the real news of the day, which is that Paige is half an hour late for a business meeting. I’m not lecturing you, mind, just pointing out that this has never been known to happen before.”

      Paige shrugged off the question. “You wouldn’t believe the crowd at the supermarket. It’s hard enough to try to stock a kitchen from scratch, but having to fight through the aisles in order to do it—”

      “Austin Weaver’s kitchen?” Cassie asked.

      Paige nodded.

      “Tough job,” Sabrina sympathized. “I wouldn’t have any idea what to buy.”

      “That’s an understatement,” Cassie murmured. “When was