The red light on Kate Lawrence’s cell phone blinked a staccato warning. But before she could retrieve the message, her maid of honor, Anna Doherty, waved her pale arms from the beach, stealing her attention.

Anna’s smooth voice sounded in her headset. “Kate, can you come here? We’ve got a few glitches.”

“Be right there.” Kate tucked her clipboard in the crook of her elbow, took the steps down Jetty Pavilion’s porch, and crossed the heel-sinking sand of the Nantucket shoreline. In six hours, thirty-four guests would be seated there in the rows of white chairs, watching Kate pledge her life to Bryan Montgomery under a beautiful hand-carved gazebo.

Where was the gazebo anyway? She checked her watch, then glanced toward the Pavilion, where workers scurried in white uniforms. No sign of Lucas.

She approached Anna, who wore worry lines as naturally as she wore her Anne Klein pantsuit. Anna was the best receptionist Kate could ask for. Her capable presence reassured the troubled couples she ushered through Kate’s office.

Right now, Anna’s long brown hair whipped across her face like a flag gone awry, and she batted it from her eyes with her freckled hand. “Soiree’s just called. Their delivery truck is in for service, and the flowers will be a little late. Half an hour at the most.”

Kate jotted the note on her schedule. “That’s okay.” She’d factored in cushion time.

“Murray’s called, and the tuxes haven’t been picked up except for your dad’s.”

Bryan and his best man had been due at Murray’s at nine thirty. An hour ago. “I’ll check on that. What else?”

Anna’s frown lines deepened, and her eyes blinked against the wind. “The carriage driver is sick, but they’re trying to find a replacement. The Weatherbys called and asked if they could attend last minute—they were supposed to go out of town, but their plans changed.” Kate nodded. “Fine, fine. Call and tell her they’re welcome. I’ll notify the caterer.”

“Your publicist—Pam?—has been trying to reach you. Did you check your cell? She said she got voice mail. Anyway, your book copies did arrive this morning. She dropped this off.” Anna pulled a hardback book from under her clipboard. “Ta-da!”

“My book!” Kate stared at the cover, where the title, Finding Mr. Right-for-You, floated above a cartoon couple. The man was on his knee, proposing. Below them, a colorful box housed the bold letters of Kate’s name. She ran her fingers over the glossy book jacket, feeling the raised bumps of the letters, savoring the moment.

“Pam wants a quick photo shoot before the guests arrive. You holding the book, that kind of thing. You should probably call her.” Kate jotted the note. While it was on her mind, she reached down and turned on her cell.