“You’ll have to work together on this.” Melody frowned at them both. “I’d hate to see these needy families deprived because you two can’t get along.” The phone rang again and Melody scooped up the receiver.

“You’re impossible to work with,” Mary said, practically shoving Sarah aside.

“I won’t stand here and be insulted by the likes of you,” Sarah insisted. Talk about impossible!

“This isn’t going to work.”

“You’re telling me!” She was ready to walk out the door. But then she realized that was exactly what Mary wanted her to do. She’d been provoking Sarah from the moment she’d made that stagy entrance. This was a low, underhanded attempt to prevent her from holding Kristen’s wedding reception at the club. Somehow Mary had found out about the wedding and hoped to thwart the McDowells’ plans. That had to be it. But Sarah refused to let a Sutton—especially this Sutton— manipulate her.

“There are ways of doing what needs to be done without tripping over each other’s feet,” Sarah murmured, trying to sound conciliatory. She could only hope that Kristen truly appreciated the sacrifice she was making on her behalf. If it wasn’t for the wedding, she wouldn’t be caught dead working on a project with Mary Sutton, charity or not!

“What do you mean?”

“There must be a way.” She personally didn’t have any ideas, but perhaps the club secretary could think of something. “Melody?”

Another line rang, and Melody put the first caller on hold in order to answer the second. She placed her palm over the mouthpiece and said, “Why don’t you two go talk this out in the lobby?” She waved them impatiently away. “I’ll be with you as soon as I can.”

Sarah took a few steps back, unwilling to voluntarily give up hard-won territory. This was more of a problem than she’d expected. For her part, she was willing to make the best of it, but she could already tell that Mary had her own agenda.

“The Christmas decorations are lovely this year, aren’t they?” Sarah said, making an effort to start again. After all, she was stuck with the woman.

“Yes,” came Mary’s stilted reply. “I’m the chair of the decorating committee.”

“Oh.” She studied the staircase again and noticed a number of flaws apparent on closer inspection. Walking to the bottom step, she straightened a bow.

“Leave my bows alone!”

“A little possessive, are we?” Sarah murmured.

“You would be, too, if you’d spent twenty minutes making each of those velvet bows.”

“I could have done it in ten.”

“Next year, I’ll let you.” Then, as if she was bored with the subject, Mary said, “I understand Noelle’s in town.”

“Yes, and I’d appreciate if you’d keep your son away from her.”