The Undercover Bridesmaid (The Undercover Bridesmaid Romance Series Book 1)

by Kimberley Montpetit

  It was just an excuse to walk off her nerves. Besides, Liam kept watching her from wherever he was standing. She couldn’t quite catch her breath, and it took all of her self-control not to repeatedly glare at him.

  Aunt Aurelia and Uncle Max stood near the guest book table, which was currently empty except for the basket of flower petals. Aurelia Romano picked up a small bell, which she rang while Uncle Max raised a hand to get everyone’s attention.

  “My wife Aurelia and I would like to welcome everyone to our home on this lovely evening. We’re so happy to see our two families meet at last to celebrate Mercedes and Mark as they take their vows and begin their life together. We’ll rehearse the ceremony after dinner. At the moment, choose any seat you’d like, and enjoy the meal.”

  Gazing at the families milling around, the hired waiters already serving salads and beverages, Chloe had a moment of panic. So many people to keep track of and to watch. The FBI suspected someone here was planning to steal more than half a million dollars in jewels. It was preposterous. Insane.

  She tried to count how many people actually knew where the jewels were located in the house. Her uncle, her cousin, Liam, her father, and herself. None of them had any motive to steal a cache of diamonds. How did someone liquidate diamonds, anyway? She supposed the only way to do so was by taking apart each stone and selling them to a fence who would find a buyer masquerading as a distributor.

  Nobody could get into that safe. But did Chloe really know that? If it was true that Mark had means and motive, Sunday was going to be a horrible, ugly day for Mercedes when Mark disappeared, the police were called, and her cousin demanded an annulment. The idea of it made her stomach turn sour.

  Chloe had no idea if the groom was the potential thief, but if he was, what could she do about it—and was there any chance of salvaging her cousin’s marriage?

  Probably not. If there was a plan afoot, it was already in motion, which made Chloe want to bang her head against a wall.

  Having Liam here was both comforting and exasperating. The man had a knack for distracting her, which often left her unable to do her job very well.

  Chapter 14

  A few minutes later, Chloe found herself seated by Brett Sorenson, the groom’s cousin whom she’d been eyeing from afar. She was still thinking about that interesting jump in her stomach when they shook hands.

  Was he attracted to her? Did he have a girlfriend? She had surreptitiously glanced at his ring finger and found that it was bare.

  “Hello, Chloe,” Brett said, his deep voice running like smooth, hot liquid down her neck. “I’ve been hoping to get to know you better.”

  “How’s your room in the house? Everything satisfactory?”

  “I’m actually staying at the Hilton in town.”

  “You are? There’s plenty of room here. Besides, you’re family.”

  “I didn’t want to intrude. You have a lot of true-blue blood family here, and with the wedding on-site, I thought it best to lessen the crazy. Besides, the hotel is only five minutes away.”

  “That’s very thoughtful, but totally unnecessary. What if I need someone to lift heavy things?”

  Brett laughed. “You have a lot of capable brothers and hired reception hands. Plus, I spied that you brought along a date yourself, but I think I kicked him out of his seat.”

  “Nope, I’m right here,” Liam said, sitting down across the table.

  Chloe gave her old partner a tight smile, hoping it didn’t look like a grimace in front of everyone else. Really? Why did Liam have to sit only a foot away so she couldn’t flirt with Brett? The first available man she’d met in ages.

  Brett’s blond hair was streaked by the sun. Like a transplant straight from California. What was it about west coast men that were ruggedly handsome with easygoing personalities?

  Chloe had long ago determined that she could live in California and be very happy there. Santa Barbara for a summer cottage. San Francisco so she could ride the cable cars while the wind blew through her hair. All she needed to do was make a million dollars. Or maybe two or three. California was expensive, just like D.C.

  Liam gave her a strange look, quirking his eyebrows up. Chloe wondered if she was speaking her thoughts out loud. Her face felt hot, and she was glad that the dark evening could hide the red that was probably racing up her neck.

  “Brett, meet Stan Crowley,” she said tightly, getting the awkward introductions over with as fast as possible. “Stan, Brett Sorenson. Did I hear you say earlier that you live in Savannah, Brett?” Chloe asked, lifting a bite of her cranberry salad with vinaigrette dressing to her lips and trying to chew. The worry gnawing at her stomach was making her lose her appetite. “How long have you lived there?”

  “About two years. A transplant from D.C. I grew up on the same block as Mark and Gary.”

  “I’ll bet you were a bunch of wild boys terrorizing your mothers.”

  From the next table, Mrs. Westerfield leaned over. “You are absolutely right, Chloe. I could never keep enough cookies in the freezer when they were home all summer constructing forts, riding bikes, and shooting off firecrackers.”

  Brett sipped at his drink. “You make us sound like heathens.”

  “If the name fits, wear it proudly,” his aunt said with a smile, returning to her meal.

  Soft music was playing in the background, and Chloe saw that Suze Perry had arranged for a DJ to entertain them with a variety of love songs from the last decade with a little Neil Diamond and Frank Sinatra thrown in for the older generations, although he was taking requests, too.

  “Savannah is one of my favorite cities. Do you just love living there?” Chloe asked Brett.

  “It’s so completely different from the Beltway. Like a breath of fresh air—even though it’s got an old history. I’m kind of a history buff, especially about the antebellum and Civil War Era. I guess you could say I’m boring because I spend at least one weekend a month touring old houses and monuments.”

  “That’s not boring at all. When you live in the South, a person can’t help being surrounded by the past. I grew up with a mother who took me to the old plantations all throughout Mississippi and Louisiana on long weekends.”

  Liam didn’t speak, just shoveled his salad into his mouth and watched while she and Brett chatted. She wanted to yell at him to go away and find somebody else to bother. But she couldn’t, since he was her “date.”

  “Have you stayed on the historic squares of Savannah?” Brett asked.

  “A few times. I adore the Bonaventure Cemetery, too. It’s so spooky and mysterious.”

  “I always feel like I’ve stepped back in time when I wander around there,” Brett agreed.

  “I often tell myself to stay on the lookout for wandering ghosts. Isn’t that silly?”

  Brett gave her a warm smile, which sent Chloe’s heart skyrocketing. Or was that the ice water she was gulping down? “Not silly at all. You must be a mind reader. We’re two of a kind.”

  “Accused and convicted,” Chloe said. “Earlier today, somebody mentioned that you’re in the shipping business.”

  “My father’s company relocated me there. Savannah is a smaller port than, say, Charleston, but busy. We send all kinds of goods overseas. Mostly wood products and steel. I feel like a goofy kid drooling when the naval ships come in. And the container ships are massive. Jaw-dropping, in fact. You should visit again and spend a day at the port ship-watching.”

  Chloe wondered if that was an official invitation to go visit him, too. She’d wait and see how the weekend turned out.

  Meanwhile, the main course was served and eaten, with dessert a light lemon cheesecake. By the time Chloe was finished, she’d only eaten about half of every course and felt weighed down by the weekend. Brett was a lifesaver, distracting her from the FBI job at least for a little while. Their chatting grew friendlier over the hour.

  Meanwhile, Liam had a severe look on his face. Pursed lips. Jaw twitching. Eating everything in sight as
though he’d been fasting for a week.

  Chloe didn’t care what Liam thought about her friendly conversation with Brett, but underneath, the whole evening bothered her. Why it bothered her didn’t make a bit of sense.

  She had a history with Agent Esposito that was unforgivable. He should never have shown up here tonight. She was handling the assignment, there was no sign of a thief, the wedding was going off without a hitch, and even if there was a master locksmith on the premises, it would take a few hours to decode the combination to Uncle Max’s safe.

  The FBI were paranoid for no reason, or Agent Esposito was up to some shenanigans of his own.

  “Time for rehearsal,” Suze Perry said, clapping her hands for attention. “If you’re not in the wedding party proper, please take a seat on the folding chairs on either side of the aisle and play the part of the audience. Mr. Westerfield, will you please stand in place of the minister?”

  The groom’s father nodded while chairs were pushed back. The chatter increased as everyone moved from the dinner tables to the wedding ceremony location. The waitstaff went into action, removing the dessert plates.

  When Mercedes walked past Chloe, she had a pale expression on her face. “Are you all right?” she asked her cousin.

  “I want to scream a little, Chloe,” she admitted. “Its like we’re all play-acting, but I know it’s real. In less than twenty-four hours, I’ll be Mrs. Mark Westerfield. For real. Forever. Am I ready for this?”

  “That’s good,” Chloe assured her. “The man of your dreams will be all yours for the rest of your life tomorrow evening.”

  “I’m shaking with nerves.”

  “We’ll jump on the bed and yell when we get back to the house.”

  Mercedes gave a weak smile. “The walls probably aren’t soundproof.”

  “Do you have a trampoline in the vicinity?”

  She mustered a half-smile. “Daddy put that away years ago.”

  Chloe took Mercedes’s cold, clammy hands in her own and rubbed them. “Deep breaths. It’s going to be fine. Spectacular and wonderful and dreamy.”

  “It is beautiful, isn’t it?”

  “Groom up here at the top next to the minister,” Suze called out, moving like a cannonball around the yard to line everyone up in their places. “Bride, bridesmaid, best man, flower children, Mr. Romano—all down the slope to await the music.”

  The DJ put on the romantic background music that would play while guests arrived and took their seats. When everyone was ready to practice walking up the aisle, the music changed to Pachelbel’s Canon.

  “Tomorrow it will be performed live by a string quartet,” Chloe whispered to Brett as she took his arm to walk up the aisle. “That will be beautiful.”

  Aunt Aurelia shoved a small handful of flowers into her hands and another one from the vases off the dinner tables into her daughter’s hands to practice walking with them. Tomorrow, the real bouquets would be delivered, along with centerpieces, boutonnières, and fresh water lilies for the pool.

  Brett looked down at Chloe and smiled. She swore her heart fluttered. Some days she was desperately lonely—especially after Jenna’s tragic death—and wished she could find the right guy, and other days she was so desperately busy, she didn’t think she had time for a man in her life at all.

  A trip to Savannah could be interesting, though.

  “Bridesmaid and best man!” Suze yelled out. “What are you doing? Did you hear the music? It’s time to walk!”

  “Oh! That’s us,” Chloe said, startled away from her daydreaming.

  Brett placed a hand on top of hers and tucked her fingers into the crook of his arm. They began to walk in time to the music up the grassy aisle toward the canopy dais where Mr. Westerfield was standing.

  He wore a stiff smile on his face as if unsure what he was supposed to do. Or worried that Suze was going to ask him to recite the wedding vows without notes or a Bible in hand.

  The idea made Chloe smile, and Suze yelled, “No grinning. Pleasant smiles. And take your hand off the bridesmaid’s, Mr. Best Man. It’s too intimate. Let her take your arm while you crook it just so, your free arm at your side. Like this.” Suze demonstrated, and the watching family members tittered with laughter.

  “Hey, it’s my first wedding,” Brett said.

  “Hopefully not your last,” Mark called out, hooting at his cousin.

  “Enough with the male testosterone,” Suze said, her voice so stern the entire company went silent. “Mr. DJ, please increase the music’s volume. With a rustling audience and birds chirping in the trees tomorrow, we may not be able to enjoy the ambience of it all. Let alone get our steps in sync.”

  The DJ waggled a button on his system, checking the speakers. Pachelbel soared forth again, and before she knew it, Chloe and Brett were at the dais. He clenched his arm just before breaking her grip, and Chloe could feel his biceps flexing.

  Wow, it had been a long time since she’d felt a man’s muscles. She wanted more of that, but Brett was already turning to stand by Mark while she went to the other side of the “minister”—Mr. Westerfield.

  “Flower children!” Suze snapped with a gasp of remembrance. “Where are they?”

  “Asleep, I’m afraid,” Debi Westerfield said, and then lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “Nope, waking up now.” She took her two daughters by the hand and scurried them around the chairs to the end of the aisle.

  Placing a basket of rose petals in each of their hands, their mother tried to demonstrate what they were supposed to do, but the twins just giggled and began throwing the petals like confetti into the air.

  Suze tapped her foot. “Mrs. Mommy, please show the flower girls the proper etiquette.”

  Debi Westerfield bit her lips and escorted Amy and Anna up the aisle while demonstrating how to nicely toss their petals along the bridal path, which allowed them to flutter softly to the lawn.

  “Practice that tomorrow morning, please,” Suze said. “Now for the bride and her father! Hold your hand lightly on his arm, Mercedes. Head up, back straight, smile as you walk down the aisle. You’re headed for the groom, and you should look enchanted and in love.”

  “That’s not hard to do,” someone in the audience called out. Chloe swore it was Granny Zaida and bit at her lip to keep from laughing.

  She watched Mercedes walk slowly up the aisle on Uncle Max’s arm and sighed at how beautiful her cousin was in her evening gown and the diamond earrings swaying against her neck, dark hair flowing over her shoulders in perfect waves.

  Tomorrow, Mercedes was going to sparkle and shine brighter than all those carats of diamonds around her neck.

  All of a sudden, Mercedes let out a cry and stopped. “My feet are stuck!”

  Chloe raced forward. “Are you okay? What’s going on?” She kneeled down on the grass and lifted Mercedes’s hem. Sure enough, her spiked heels had sunk into the grass and wouldn’t lift up again. “Try to yank once more,” she told her.

  Mercedes tugged at her foot, but they weren’t budging. Then, all at once, one foot shot up and then the other—just as the first one sank again.

  “It’s much too soft for these shoes, I’m afraid, Mercedes.”

  “But I adore my new shoes,” her cousin said with a whimper. “How did you manage not to get stuck?”

  Chloe glanced at her feet tucked under her. “Wedge heels. Not stilettos.”

  “My legs look better in stilettos,” Mercedes said.

  “Nobody will see your legs in your long dress,” Chloe tried to assure her.

  “But they’ll see my shoes, especially during the dancing.”

  “You’ve got to use other shoes or else go barefoot.”

  “Trade me,” Mercedes said. “I’ll use yours. At least for now. We wear the same size.”

  “We do?”

  Mercedes turned a slight shade of pink, but didn’t answer.

  “Okay, I’ll wear your shoes tonight.” After all, she was the professional bridesmaid, here to serve
the bride for her once-in-a-lifetime day.

  Bending over, she took off her wedged dress shoes, stuffed the hidden key that had slipped into the toe of the shoe down her bra, and then handed the pair over to her cousin. When Mercedes slipped them on, Chloe noted, “How about that? They fit perfectly.”

  “I told you they would.”

  “Okay, but that was pretty random.”

  Looking contrite, Mercedes admitted, “At our last family reunion, I sort of borrowed your shoes a couple of times.”

  A giggle rose up Chloe’s throat. “Oh, Mercedes, I think I like you more all the time. And now I’ll try not to fall over in your stilettos.”

  Suze clapped her hands. “Music from the top. Let’s do this all over again. Everyone back to your places.”

  The second time went much more smoothly. Chloe held lightly on to Brett’s arm, enjoying the texture of his suit coat and the feel of his hard muscles while he crooked his arm just so as per instructions.

  She smiled when the twin girls tossed their rose petals, their chubby cheeks grinning from ear to ear, and then Mercedes was radiant once more when her father walked her up the aisle.

  “I think we have the music timed correctly now,” Suze declared after three trial runs. “The last run-through was perfect. Does anyone have any questions about when you come in or how fast to walk?”

  Everybody was silent, eager to move on with the evening.

  “The bridal party will wait down the hill by the river at exactly five minutes before the hour so as not to spoil the surprise of all the lovely gowns and suits and, of course, the magnificent wedding dress.” Suze assumed a professional air. “We’re also going to have a string quartet playing, and they’ll be seated on the same side of the yard, which will help hide the view of the bridal party getting into position.”

  It seemed a little overkill, but Chloe just tried to enjoy the cool grass blades between her toes after so many hours running around like a maniac.

  A few of the males, Liam included, began to saunter toward the dessert table, where leftover cheesecake had been laid out. The DJ was back to playing love ballads.