LITMIR.BIZ

      This book is dedicated to Brenda Chin,

       my adventurous editor,

       who trusts me to run with my stories.

      CHAPTER ONE

      ALWAYS A BRIDESMAID…and always broke. Fighting the phone cord, Piper Shepherd glanced in the mirror at the yellow satin dress she held draped over her torso. With her cropped, dark hair, the ruffled netting around the shoulders made her look like a molting bird in a nest, but it would do. “Personally, Justine, I think lemon yellow would be stunning for an August wedding.”

      Her friend sighed at the other end of the phone, obviously unconvinced. “Mother says yellow won’t stand out in the outdoor photos. Besides, didn’t Barb have yellow for her bridesmaids’ dresses?”

      Piper winced. “Did she?” She tossed the dress on her bed, then withdrew a long, off-the-shoulder lavender gown from the closet and held it under her chin. A sloshed usher had ripped off a ribbon rosette during someone’s reception, but the dress was serviceable. “How about lilac?”

      “Hmm,” Justine mused, tapping her fingernail against the phone. “Nah, I don’t think it would complement Stewart’s carrottop. Besides, didn’t Sarah use lilac?”

      Piper frowned. “Did she?” She tossed the dress on top of the other one and withdrew an emerald organza mini with a sequined cape. “Green would look great next to Stew’s red hair—maybe something short and snazzy to catch the sunlight?”

      “I don’t think so,” Justine said slowly. “Green makes me look sallow. Besides, didn’t Joann use green?”

      A low throbbing started in Piper’s temple. “Did she?” She discarded the dress, then pivoted back to her closet and flipped through the hangers. “Mauve?”

      “Carol.”

      “Fuchsia?”

      “Cindy.”

      “Sapphire?”

      “Hmm, wasn’t that your mom’s color?”

      Piper grunted. “For which wedding?”

      “To Roger, I think.”

      Biting back a disrespectful remark, Piper forced her fingers to travel on. “Ruby? Teal? Metallic gold?”

      “Jan, Tina and Jennifer.”

      Piper jammed her hand through her short hair. “My God, Justine, how on earth do you remember who used which color in what wedding?”

      “I just do,” Justine said, and Piper could picture her friend’s thin shoulders shrugging. “But then I’ve always loved weddings—unlike you, Piper. If you’d spent less time moaning about the high heels and more time checking out the groomsmen, you’d be getting married, too. Out of twenty-three of us, you’re the last one, you know.”

      Piper frowned. “Not true—Tillie is still single.” Not that being in the same company as their chubby, hypochondriac sorority sister was anything to boast about.

      “Uh-uh, she got engaged three weeks ago—haven’t you heard?”

      Piper yanked down the phone cord, unaware she had managed to wind it around her neck. “Who to?” she croaked, then unwound herself with an impatient twist.

      “She spent so much time at the clinic, she managed to snare a doctor—her diamond is a freaking boulder.”

      For an instant, Piper experienced a pang of panic. Even allergic, insomniac, headachy, PMS-ing Tillie had snagged a man—and a rich one, to boot. She sighed and glanced at her watch. She’d promised her grandmother she’d be over to help box up some things for her upcoming move.

      “Piper, are you there, or is your life passing before your eyes?”

      “I’m here,” she snapped. “And thirty-one doesn’t exactly make me eligible for a discount at the bingo parlor.”

      Justine sighed dramatically. “People are beginning to talk, Piper. You would tell me, wouldn’t you, if you were, um…you know.”

      “I don’t know what the heck you’re talking about.”

      “You

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