by Lorin Grace
Preston extended his arm. “I’ll introduce you, then make myself scarce. Don’t let them intimidate you.” They had already discussed this. Gale’s middle-class roots dismayed his mum. Gale’s ignorance of her DAR worthiness compounded the problem in his great-aunt’s eyes. As if qualifying for membership in the Daughters of the American Revolution mattered to a woman who still refused to give up her UK passport.
The five women stopped talking when Preston and Abbie stepped onto the veranda.
“Mum, I would like to introduce my fiancée, Miss Gale Henderson.” He turned to Abbie, then went down the line. “My mother, Aunt Judith, you know Felicia, my great-aunt Josephine, and my second cousin Dorcas.”
Abbie shook hands with each woman but was tempted to curtsy to Great-Aunt Josephine.
Preston kissed his mother’s cheek and stage whispered, “Be nice to Gale. We have tickets to the theater tonight, and I don’t want to go alone.”
The women’s laughter rang false to Abbie’s ear. She followed them to a table where they were seated with the aid of the household staff. Abbie sat between Mrs. Harmon and Felicia.
“Preston tells me you don’t drink alcohol. I hope you don’t mind if we do. But I have asked our cook to make sure to have a selection of other drinks on hand. Just tell the server what you desire.”
“Water with lime, please.”
Felicia spoke. “Such simple tastes.” Then she turned to the waiter. “Lemon seltzer.”
When no one else ordered, Abbie figured their preferences were well-known.
Aunt Judith leaned forward. “So, how did you catch our boy’s heart so quickly?”
“I believe they call it love at first sight for a reason, although it took me watching him fly a kite before my heart turned.” Abbie was grateful when her water came. The salads followed.
Abbie blinked at hers. She had never seen anything like it.
Felicia leaned over and pointed with her fork. “They are all edible blooms. The honeysuckle is my favorite, although the nasturtium is delightful too.”
Abbie picked up her fork, and Great-Aunt Josephine cleared her throat. “I believe it is appropriate to say grace before a meal.”
The lengthy prayer offered by Great-Aunt Josephine left Felicia fidgeting next to her before the end. Abbie again picked up her salad fork.
“Try some of this dressing. It’s our cook’s secret recipe.” Mrs. Harmon passed a crystal dressing bottle to Abbie.
As the first golden drops fell from the bottle, she saw one of the flowers move, then another. She set the dressing down and used her fork to move a spinach leaf to the side. A tiny face emerged, greeting her with a flickering tongue. “Well, hello, little guy. How did you get there?”
The simultaneous screams of Felica and Mrs. Harmon and the scrape of chair legs against the tile were the only answers to Abbie’s question.
“Snake!” shouted one of them.
Dorcas fanned Great-Aunt Josephine, who appeared to have fainted.
“Don’t worry, he is only a little opheodrys aestivus, or green snake. Abbie lifted the six-inch-long snake from her plate. “If you will excuse me for a minute, I’ll go find him a better home.”
“Kill it!” screeched Mrs. Harmon.
“Whatever for? He isn’t poisonous and is very beneficial in gardens.” Abbie gently held the snake and stood.
Two security team members joined them.
“If one of you will point me in the direction of an appropriate garden, I’ll help this little guy find a better lunch than my salad.”
When she returned, the table had been cleared, and only Felicia remained.
“How could you touch it?”
“I had one as a pet when I was seven or eight. Is our luncheon over?” Abbie used her discarded napkin to wipe her hands.
“Yes, I am to send my regrets, but Aunt Margaret feels like it would be best to try another day.”
It took Abbie a moment to realize Aunt Margaret was Mrs. Harmon. “Yes, too much excitement from a salad does ruin a meal.”
One of the guards shadowed her all the way to the car. Preston failed to appear.
“How is your aunt?” Abbie weighed the rock she held in her palm.
Preston attempted to skip his across the pond. “Better today. Mum is still talking about you picking up the snake and walking into the garden. I am not sure what bothers her most—the snake or that you picked the slithery reptile up. To hear them tell the story, the anaconda you pulled out of the salad could have killed them all.”
“I take it I didn’t score any fiancée points.”
“You did with Dad. He can’t wait to meet you on his yacht tomorrow. Mum is going to be there too, and maybe Grandfather.”
“So fewer witnesses if I don’t pass muster?” Abbie’s rock skipped nine times before sinking.
“I’d deny it, but Felicia is pretty much trying to talk me out of my rash decision to marry you at every turn. She likes you well enough but thinks you’re too middle-class to fit in. I think she is torn about you. Usually she dislikes my girlfriends from the start.” Felicia spent an hour telling him all the reasons why Gale was wrong for him while at the same time preparing for tonight’s movie party with some of his friends. Preston would have been fine without the flavored popcorn and Italian soda bar, but Felicia wanted the party to be a success and insisted she be the one to throw it for the couple.
“I’m sorry my little green friend couldn’t tell me how he ended up in the salad. I know this is frustrating to you and costing you a fortune preparing for a wedding that will never happen.”
Preston’s rock made it four skips. “How was your fitting this morning?”
“It went well. The dress is amazing, and it’s only the model. What are you going to do with the real one?” Abbie studied Preston’s profile. His forehead puckered.
“I hadn’t thought about that. I retained Mateo when I expected the dress to be for Yvette. I suppose we can always use the gown in a spread to help launch his wedding collection.”
“It isn’t going to fit a model if he is making it for me, I am not exactly a size one.”
Preston turned and faced her. “You could model it. With your bone structure and coloring, you would do well in print. Only runway models fit the old standard.” He jestingly held his chin in his hand and walked slowly around her. “Not to be offensive or cross any lines, but your figure isn’t bad either.” It was good, but he best not let her know he was thinking just how attractive he found her. “I do prefer your natural eye color over the brown.”
“Are you offering me a modeling job?” Abbie’s cheeks pinked.
“Sure, why not?”
“I’m not the model type.” Whether Abbie had bent down to search for another rock or to break out of the conversation, Preston couldn’t be sure.
He squatted down beside her and reached over to move her hair out of her face. “I know you probably don’t hear this working the job you do, but you are a beautiful woman.”
She rolled her eyes. “You’re only saying that because I’m your fiancée.”
“Not true.” He held her gaze as long as he could, hoping she believed him.
She nodded and stood. Her rock only skipped twice before sinking. “I guess we better head back. We do have a movie to watch.”
He took her hand as they started on the path back to the main house. “Someday there will be a man who can make you believe it. Then I can tell you I told you so.”
Her blush deepened. “Thanks, Preston. It does mean a lot coming from you.”
At least she hadn’t called him a liar.
eleven
Candace wrapped another gag gift for Araceli while Mandy watched. Zoe munched on a celery stick—her last-ditch effort at a diet before the wedding.
Mandy turned her attention to Abbie. “So, no closer to finding the stalker?”
“No, I hoped catching him would only take a week so I wouldn’t have to be two people this weekend. The PIs discovered a girlfriend from four years ago. From her social media posts, she blames Preston for ruining her life. When she and Preston were dating, he walked in on her and a male photographer modeling their birthday suits to each other. Preston fired both of them. They went to Paris but couldn’t get regular work. She started to eat all the chocolate croissants she could and tipped the scale at nearly three hundred pounds when she wrote the posts. However, the PI can’t locate her or the photographer.”
Mandy giggled. “That girl has a few problems, but I doubt Preston was one of them. How serious were they?”
“According to Preston, they had only gone out once and it was a disaster.”
Candace packed the last gift into a suitcase. “Any other promising candidates?”
“The PIs have eliminated most. There are the usual vague, anonymous threats and such. Which brings me back to my dual identity. Araceli’s wedding is going to be entertaining. Zoe, you are in charge of making sure I put in my contacts and extensions every time I leave you guys.”
“I looked at a map. At least the two hotels are close. It should only take you a few minutes to get from one to the other. Just don’t change in the back of the taxi,” said Mandy.
“I told Preston I intend to have a case of food poisoning after Thursday’s lunch so no one will get suspicious when I don’t come out of my room until Saturday morning.”
Candace looked up from her package. “You know, I like Preston a lot more than I did two weeks ago. I didn’t think he was really human. He seemed so detached. But making it possible for you to go to the wedding is decent of him.”
“He is trying to make the best of this. I thought he was just buying himself a solution, but after his apology for the engagement kiss—”
Mandy sat up. “Wait! What?”
Candace scowled. “Lie back down before your mom or Daniel come in here and make us leave. Abbie explain.”
This had been why she hadn’t told them last week when the proposal happened. “Last Monday night after the proposal, we went back to my apartment. He was agitated. It turns out he felt bad about paying me to kiss him. Since then he has only kissed me on the cheek a couple times, mostly around his family, like on the yacht Saturday.”
“That is so sweet!” Zoe bounced off her chair.
Abbie looked at her hands, waiting for the inevitable blush to settle. Best to change the subject. “So, you guys will get me checked into the Four Seasons and have my suitcase, and I’ll come over Wednesday for a bit. Then I am all yours Thursday, from three until the happy couple leaves.” Her phone pinged. “I’d better go. Adam and Alex are meeting me at the apartment. They are a bit upset about this job, so I am letting them have a sit-down with Preston.”
She hugged Mandy and the others. Candace followed her to the elevator. “How invested is your heart in this?”
“Not much. It’s hard to play dress up for the fake wedding. Margaret, Preston’s mom, took me to pick out china patterns yesterday afternoon. Get to know the mother-in-law time, and since there were no snakes in sight, things went well. She is formal with me, but she is a Brit. Which might explain the ugly pattern she wants me to get.”
“Not what I asked.”
The elevator bell dinged.
“I know, but don’t worry about me. He isn’t leading me on or anything. Sometimes I wish he was the person I thought he was when we met. This job would be easier if he were arrogant.” And if I didn’t spend so much time wondering why Yvette said he was a bad kisser. The one we had was better than good, even if his heart wasn’t in it...
Preston entered the elevator in Abbie’s building with the pizza-delivery guy, hoping the pizza was the order for their meeting. He had been party to a hostile takeover or two in his career, and food usually helped keep tempers down. The meeting with Abbie’s brothers demanded a meal. When they reached Abbie’s floor, the pizza guy pushed his way past Preston and rushed to Abbie’s door, so Preston hung back and waited until the transaction was finished before stepping in through the open door.
Abbie smiled at him. “Come on back. My brothers are in the kitchen impatiently waiting with the other pizza. I guess we double ordered.”
He braced himself for the inevitable masculine showdown with the two men in her kitchen. They did the same Hastings intimidating stare their father, and, on occasion, Abbie used, as if dissecting him, searching for some weakness or ulterior motive.
“Adam, Alex, back down. He is a client, so stop the games.” Abbie set the box down with the others, then stepped over and hugged her twin. Alex’s stare softened a fraction. “You have already met Alex. This is my oldest brother, Adam.”
Adam extended his hand, the handshake firm but not painful. “Nice to meet you.”
“Sorry, Preston, I guess I should have written FAKE in all caps for their memo. My brothers may have taken one too many to the head. Let’s sit down and eat. No one needs to defend my honor here.” Abbie pulled four plates out of the cupboard and set them on the table. Alex grabbed bottles of water out of the fridge.
They sat and passed around the pizzas.
“Who ordered the veggie with mushrooms? Alex?” Abbie looked at her brothers and took a slice. Both brothers shook their heads. Abbie opened her mouth to take a bite.
“Stop!” Preston grabbed her wrist and yanked the pizza away from her mouth.
Alex stood so fast his chair shot several feet across the floor.
“What?” Abbie looked at him, the pizza still in her hand.
“The mushrooms are the wrong shape.” Preston released her wrist. “Your brothers didn’t order that pizza, and I didn’t. You must not have, or you wouldn’t have asked.”
Abby dropped the slice onto her plate, blanching at the realization that someone had bypassed their security, no warning this time.
Adam put the pizza slices back in the box. “This was the one that showed up late, wasn’t it?”
Abby nodded.
Adam took charge. “Alex, get a garbage bag. We can get the mushrooms analyzed. Abbs, was it the same guy who delivered the first pizza?”
“No, he was taller. Looked like he might work out. I don’t think he wore the red shirt under his jacket. The cap was low over his sunglasses so I didn’t see his face.” Abby took a drink of her water.
“Preston, you were on the elevator with him. Did you notice anything?” asked Adam.
“He wore sunglasses with the baseball cap. Most people take them off inside, but the pizza smelled so good I didn’t think anything of it.”
Abbie stood and left the room. Preston got up to follow her, but Alex cut him off. “She’s my twin. I’ll go.”
Adam sat back down. “How did you realize the mushrooms were the wrong shape?”
“One summer, years ago, my cousin wanted to be a mycologist. She collected all sorts of pants and fungi and kept them in our greenhouse as my aunt didn’t like her hobby. She was forever talking about them. I guess I remembered something. I can’t even tell you what kind they are.” Preston looked at the pizza on his plate, but his appetite was gone.
“Any chance your cousin could be the stalker?” asked Adam.
Preston tried to picture his cousin running off his girlfriends. “Not a chance.” She liked most of them but didn’t think they were right for him. Felicia liked Abbie better than all of them. What would be the point? “My getting married doesn’t affect her inheritance. Besides, she has always been my best bud.”
Abbie’s phone pinged. Preston looked at the screen, the message still visible: Hope you enjoyed the pizza. Don’t worry, the cramping and nausea will only last a day. Break up wi
th Preston, and I’ll text you the cure.
Preston read the text to Adam. Adam grabbed the phone and left the room. They all joined him in the living room.
Abbie sat on the couch next to Preston. “Thanks for stopping me.”
“Are you all right? I didn’t hurt your wrist?”
Abbie laughed. “No, I grew up with them.” She nodded to her brothers. “I’m upset I let my guard down. I just—”
Alex crossed his arms. “You shouldn’t have taken this job.”
“Don’t you dare tell—”
Adam stepped between the twins. “Alex, you are not always very objective when it comes to Abbie. Why don’t you deliver the pizza to the office so it can get out to a lab tonight?”
Alex grunted but complied.
Adam waited until he left before continuing. “The stalker has just escalated the game. None of us were expecting it. I know you two are leaving for Boston tomorrow. I don’t want trouble following you there. Preston, what kind of security are you taking?”
“Just a two-person tag team. I am going to be in meetings most of Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday to cover for Abbie not being with me. On Saturday we’ll go out to Martha’s Vineyard to the cottage and come back Sunday night.”
“Do you know who the team will be?”
“No, but after I tell Simon about this, I doubt he will assign the type of person Abbie wanted.”
Adam turned to his sister. “What did you request?”
“Someone who might not notice me slipping in and out of the hotel,” said Abbie.
“Abbie, do you know if Kyle Evans will have a security team there for his wedding?”
“He should. With a high-profile wedding, he would want to keep the paparazzi at bay, if nothing else. Araceli’s family isn’t exactly used to the spotlight. They aren’t even announcing the location until the morning of the wedding and then only to RSVPed guests.”