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bows but eventually everyone managed to unwrap a bottle of perfume with THAYNE etched in the glass. “Maison Ricci has created a special fragrance for the wedding,” the honoree disclosed. “Perhaps you’d be kind enough to wear it tomorrow.”
    â€œOf course, Mrs. Walker! We love it!”
    As she circled the table distributing another small box to her bridesmaids, Thayne told the two reporters about the thousands of scents she and Madame Ricci had tested before creating Thayne, a fragrance unique in the universe. She gave each reporter a precious bottle as a keepsake before rounding back to her seat. “Pippa and I are thrilled to present these small tokens of appreciation to you, our bridesmaids.”
    Each young lady screamed with delight upon unwrapping a pair of diamond and Tahitian pearl pendant earrings from Mikimoto. “These will look lovely with your gowns.” Thayne described her search for the perfect ten-millimeter pearls as the reporters scribbled in their notebooks and took even more pictures. After presenting each reporter with a lavish gift box and an invitation to lunch elsewhere in the hotel, Thayne dismissed them: she and the bridesmaids needed to review tomorrow’s top-secret plans.
    Once the door shut behind the reporters, Thayne ordered the waiters to clear the table of everything but the centerpiece. As she opened her Vaio, the maftre d’ set up a picture screen. He attached Thayne’s PC to a projector. “Pay close attention, girls,” Thayne announced, inserting a CD into her laptop.
    Emboldened by the four ounces of vodka in her veins, Cora reiterated her burning question. “Wasn’t Mrs. Henderson coming with you, Mrs. Walker?”
    â€œI’m afraid she has a touch of upset stomach. She’s nervous about the rehearsal dinner tonight, poor thing.”
    â€œWill Mr. McCoy be coming?” asked Kimberly. She was going to try one last time to get him to switch the order of the bridesmaids’ walk down the aisle.
    â€œHe is indisposed as well. Turn down the lights, Lorenzo.” Thayne pressed a key on her laptop. Onscreen flashed a head shot of a model with a perfect French twist. “As you know, Brent has arrived from New York to do your hair. For the wedding rehearsal, everyone will wear this style.” Consumed by the image onscreen, Thayne did not see the grimaces passing between Ginny and the other bridesmaids. “Tomorrow we’ll go with a more romantic look. I just love this, half swept up, off the face, secured with a gorgeous barrette, and down in the back. You all have such lovely long hair and this style will show it to perfection.” She paused. “Were Mrs. Henderson here, you would have your barrettes. They are her gift to you. I hope she doesn’t forget to bring them to the rehearsal dinner tonight.” “Is that style our only choice?”
    â€œYes.” Thayne didn’t have to look to know who had asked: Ginny, of course. Pippa had threatened to elope if her SMU suitemate wasn’t in the bridal party. Thayne had acquiesced but considered Ginny her second serious mistake, after Wyeth McCoy. “Moving on to undergarments.”
    Onscreen flashed another model wearing a knee-length body suit attached to a bawdy push-up bra. “They don’t call this Lipo in a Box for nothing. Has everyone purchased a set?”
    â€œYes, Mrs. Walker,” chorused the angels.
    Onscreen flashed a pair of pink slingback shoes. “Everyone has virgin Manolos ready to go?”
    â€œYes, Mrs. Walker,” responded the chorus, even louder.
    Thayne thought she heard a giggle in the dark. She decided to ignore it. Onscreen appeared a pink Gucci clutch. “And your purses?”
    â€œYes, Mrs. Walker,” the chorus nearly shrieked. This time Thayne definitely heard three people laugh. Pausing in her presentation, she glanced imperiously at the faces beneath the Mad Hatter