A Latte Difficulty

by Angela Ruth Strong

  Moria dipped her cotton swab then dabbed at the dress. “Per your instructions, I have not had any private conversations with Marissa.”

  Marissa stood taller. She narrowed her eyes at Mom. Whose wedding was this? “Per your instructions?”

  Mom smoothed her French twist. “I am the one paying for the event.”

  Really? Mom was paying? “You haven’t paid for a thing since you won Miss Ohio thirty years ago.”

  “Marissa,” Mom hissed.

  They stared at each other.

  What? Was Marissa supposed to apologize? It was true. Mom majored in marketing, but since meeting Marissa’s father she had only used that degree to go shopping. If she’d stayed home to make Marissa her first priority, that would have been one thing, but Marissa had pretty much been raised by her grandmother.

  “It’s working.” Moria continued dabbing at the dress as if she wasn’t in the middle of a standoff.

  “That’s good,” Mom said. “Because there’s no way I’d pay for another dress now.”

  Marissa pressed her lips together though her eyebrows arched rebelliously. Tandy and her urban pirate ways were rubbing off on her.

  Mom turned her head to glare out of the corner of her eye. “Don’t you dare go to your father about this behind my back.”

  Marissa held her hands wide. Mom made it sound like that was something Marissa had done in the past. Okay, she’d tried once in junior high when Mom wouldn’t support her playing the tuba, but that was her last attempt. Not because Marissa’s parents were united, but because Dad was scared of his wife. “I’m not asking you or anyone to buy me a new dress.”

  Mom planted a hand on her hip. “But sunflowers? This isn’t Kansas.”

  “If only I was marrying a guy whose family owned a farm where he could grow sunflowers for me, then you wouldn’t have to pay for them at all.” Marissa crossed her arms. “Oh wait. I am.”

  Mom lifted her chin. “A wedding is supposed to be a bonding time for mother and daughter, but it sounds like you don’t even need me here.”

  Moria shot to her feet with that. “Mrs. Alexander, sunflowers can be a very beautiful selection. You could mix them with white roses for the bride to add some class, and…”

  “Class?” Marissa stared down the woman who could be her own evil twin. The wedding planner was even bonding with Marissa’s mom over fixing her. Like Marissa was their project. Is this how Marissa used to act before she’d met Tandy and turned her back on pageanting? “You don’t think I have enough class?”

  Moria’s sapphire eyes widened. “I didn’t mean it that way.”

  Mom blinked in boredom. “Well, you should.”

  Moria held up her hands to smooth things over but paused as if not sure in which direction to start. “By class I don’t mean stylish excellence. You have style. What I mean is sophistication. We don’t want anything to embarrass you on your big day. I’m only thinking of you the way your mother was when she suggested the tea length dress so you don’t trip over the train.”

  Marissa’s spine stiffened. She turned slowly to face her mother who’d twisted her lips into a disapproving grimace. “You told me I should get tea length because I like tea.”

  Mom patted her hair. “That’s one reason.”

  Heat rose from Marissa’s chest like a furnace, warming her cheeks, her forehead, the tips of her ears. While she’d refused to let her cousins be in her wedding because of the way they’d made fun of her, they weren’t nearly as bad as her mom. So why was she letting the woman ridicule her this way? Just so she’d pay for the reception? She’d rather elope than let Mom poison one more moment of her life.

  She shook her head slowly. This was it.

  Mom’s gaze snagged on her movement. Hardened. Narrowed in warning.

  Moria looked around as if desperately trying to find a distraction from conflict, but there wasn’t any part of Marissa’s dream wedding that wouldn’t conflict with Mom’s plans.

  The front door swung open, pouring in sunlight. It took a moment for Marissa’s eyes to adjust to the brightness enough to make out Connor’s huge grin. “Hey, hon. I don’t want to interrupt. I’m only here to pick up Ranger.”

  Moria clapped at the sight of him like he was the distraction she’d been praying for. She stepped forward to shake hands. “You must be the groom. Connor, right? I’m Moria Evans, the wedding planner.”

  Evans? Marissa tilted her head to get a closer look at the woman. She’d never connected Moria’s last name with Randon before. The wedding planner didn’t look much like the other Evans in town.

  Connor shook hands then looked between the three women. “Are you sure you’re not related to the Alexanders? You look like you could all be sisters. Or Charlie’s Angels or something.”

  Marissa did a double take to question her boyfriend with lowered eyebrows. While the three of them may look alike, Marissa was the only crime fighter of the group. And the way these women tried to plan her wedding was the most recent crime.

  Mom chuckled. “Trying to get on my good side, eh, Connor?”

  Did Mom have a good side? Marissa had only seen her manipulative side.

  “Nah. Like I said, I’m here to…” His gaze landed on the dress hanging in front of the mirror. “Oh, is that your dress, ‘Rissa? I don’t see any blood on it. Were you able to get it out?”

  Moria squealed and rushed to block Connor’s view with her body.

  Mom gave Marissa another look as if it was her fault Connor had seen her dress. “Connor, it’s bad luck to see your bride’s dress before the wedding.”

  “Sorry.” Connor turned and held his hand up like a blinder to the side of his face. It was sweet and adorable, but Marissa didn’t want him to cater to her mother’s whims any more than she wanted to.

  “It’s okay, Connor.” Marissa reached for his hand, pulled it down, and laced her fingers with his. “I’m not wearing that dress anyway.”

  Mom huffed. “Marissa, I told you I’m not paying for another one.”

  “I know.” Marissa pulled Connor toward the door, feeling more free than she’d felt in a long time. “I don’t want your money, and I don’t want you planning my wedding.”

  Mom gave her signature huff. “You expect Connor here to pay for a new dress and wedding planner?”

  Connor froze, except for his gaze which locked onto hers. They probably should have talked about this first. Hopefully he understood.

  “Nope.” She apologized with her eyes. “I’ll do it myself. We’ve already got the farm and flowers. All I have to do is find a new dress.”

  “With this time frame, you’ll have to get a dress off…” Moria covered her mouth in horror, preventing whatever it was she wanted to say. She finally whispered the rest of the comment. “Off the rack.”

  “Sure.” Having her first gown custom made had become a bit of a nightmare. So why not? Moria probably only cared because it would cut into her commission.

  Connor squeezed her hand. “I’d like you to step outside with me for a moment.”

  Marissa squeezed back. “We might as well leave. There’s nothing more for me here.”

  “Marissa.” Mom stood regally and clutched her purse to her chest as if she held the winning ticket. “If you walk out that door, there’s no coming back. You’ll never get your dream wedding.”

  “My dream wedding or your dream wedding, Mom?”

  Mom slung her purse over one shoulder and strode out. Connor watched her leave. The door thudded shut and his eyes met Marissa’s once again, twitchy with concern.

  Without missing a beat, Moria grabbed a binder, flipped it open, and offered them a peek. “I don’t know what your budget is, but if you can’t afford the package your parents signed up for, there are still other options. I have the date open, and…”

  Connor held up a hand to stop her. “We’re going to have to get back with you.”

  “Yes, yes of course.” Moria set the binder on a glass counter and retrieved a lacy busine
ss card from its holder. “But you’ll need to do so quickly. This is wedding season, you know. I won’t stay available if you don’t pay the remaining balance for my services.”

  Marissa’s heart sank. She tossed it a figurative life preserver. If she could plan a grand opening for her tea house, then she could certainly plan a wedding, as well. They just might have to let some things go. Like the photobooth.

  Connor snagged the business card, nodded politely, then ushered Marissa out the double doors into the alcove entrance along Main Street. He wiped a hand along his slick forehead, though Marissa couldn’t be sure his sweat was from the steamy temperatures or the stress of the curveball she’d thrown him. “What happened in there?” he asked.

  Mom’s Lexus rolled by. She didn’t look up.

  Marissa’s stomach cramped. “I found out that Mom wanted me to get a short dress so I didn’t trip in it and embarrass her.”

  Connor’s touch tickled as he brushed hair away from her face. A sweet gesture, and one that made her want to elope even more, though he likely did it to give himself a moment to process. “Do you want to trip?”

  She jutted her chin forward. “No, I don’t want to trip.”

  A corner of Connor’s mouth curved up. “If you do, I’ll catch you.”

  Marissa’s shoulders sagged in relief. This was the kind of relationship she’d been looking for her whole life. This was what had helped her realize her relationship with her mom was not healthy. “And if I fire the wedding planner, will you also help me plan the wedding?”

  His arms wrapped around her waist so he could sway with her like he would on their first wedding dance. “I’ll even make sure my dog doesn’t splatter blood all over your next dress.”

  “Ahh… You whisper the best sweet nothings.” She smiled up at him.

  He kissed her nose.

  “But first I’ll have to find another dress.” She could do that in three months, right? “At least Tandy has her dress picked out, and…” Tandy’s dress. Marissa had shown Mom the picture but forgot to place the order. “Hold on one second.”

  She kicked off her heels so she could run her errand quicker, pushed open the door, and padded against the cool, smooth wooden planks. Where was that catalog again?

  “We’ll get you out of there, Cash.”

  Moria’s voice stopped Marissa in her tracks. She looked up from the glossy magazines to find the wedding planner pacing in a back office, phone to her ear. Could she be talking to Cash Hudson? And by getting him out of there, did she mean jail?

  Marissa’s heart hammered in her chest, threatening to drown out Moria’s next words.

  “Nobody has questioned my relationship to Randon so far, but if they realize we’re dating, that might give the prosecutor an even stronger motive to pin on you.”

  Marissa gasped and took a step backwards. She had to get out of there. Because her wedding planner’s boyfriend had her scared for her life.

  Chapter Eight

  Marissa spun and lunged for the door. A brocade upholstered bench got in her way. It caught her shin, tipping her forward. She dropped the catalog to catch herself on the bench.

  Her rear landed on the bench’s padding, but the momentum pushed her over the side. Her bare feet stayed up in the air, legs held by the bench, the slip underneath her sheer pleated skirt flared like a tutu.

  “Marissa.” Moria rushed over, setting her phone on the glass counter as she passed. She paused at the bench as if unsure how to help her bride-to-be up off the floor in a ladylike fashion. Though, if she was in cahoots with Cash, she could actually be looking for a way to use the position against her. Perhaps kill her, then blame it on Marissa’s clumsiness. She wouldn’t be the first criminal to try out such an evil plan. “Are you okay?”

  Marissa propped herself up on her elbows so she’d be prepared if Moria tried to stab her with a feather pen or smother her with a garment bag. If Moria didn’t make any moves, should she reveal that she overheard the woman’s phone conversation or play dumb?

  “I’m fine.” In the past, Marissa had gotten herself into trouble by trying to solve these things herself. With her wedding coming up, she really needed to stay out of trouble. She’d play dumb so she could take this info to Griffin and let him interrogate the wedding planner.

  “I…uh…” She looked around for any excuse as for why she might have been running around the shop without looking where she was going. The catalog lay open by her side. “I ran back inside to place the order for my bridesmaid dresses. Tandy likes that black one in a size six. Except—”

  The front door swung open.

  Marissa exhaled in relief at the sight of her fiancé. It was good to not be alone with the girlfriend of the guy who’d wanted to kill her. Except Connor stared at her like she’d announced she wanted to skydive for her wedding entrance. He should be used to her falling over things by now.

  “I didn’t see the bench,” she explained.

  “It happens.” A small smile softened Connor’s concern. “I just wanted to let you know that when I got Ranger out of your car, I put your shoes inside. If you’re okay, I’m gonna run—”

  “Wait.” Connor couldn’t leave her alone with a suspect. She rolled over and pushed up. “Don’t leave me.”

  A wrinkle formed between Connor’s sandy eyebrows. That had sounded weird, hadn’t it? She glanced at Moria whose blue eyes had turned steely. Had she guessed the reason Marissa wanted to get away?

  “I…” Marissa jerked upright and smoothed her skirt. “I want to kiss you goodbye.”

  Connor’s smile split wider. He pushed the door fully open and waved her through in front of him with a small bow.

  Oh good. He was playing along.

  Moria crossed her arms. “Come back when you can, Marissa. I’ll get Tandy’s dress ordered, and we’ll discuss other wedding planning options.” That probably wasn’t all Moria wanted to talk about.

  “Sure.” This is when Marissa’s fake smile from her pageant days came in handy. She beamed her brightest then bounced out the door, heart hammering the same way it had when she had to pirouette in stilettos on stage during the ballgown portion of competition.

  Connor followed to her Jeep.

  She fumbled through her purse, not sure which she should grab first—her phone to call Griffin or her keys to drive to the police station. She turned to tell Connor her dilemma.

  He wrapped his arms around her back and pulled her close. Oh yeah. He thought they were going to kiss.

  “Connor,” she hissed to keep him from silencing her with his lips.

  He paused an inch away, that wrinkle returning to mar his brow. “What?”

  She gripped his biceps to squeeze like stress balls, only they didn’t squish in her grip. Wow. All his construction work was going to pay off in more ways than one when they got married. She squeezed again.

  He gripped her waist and pulled her far enough away to draw her attention up to his face. “What’s going on?”

  She peeked over his shoulder at the storefront. Moria peered out the window, watching them. “When I went back into the shop, I heard my wedding planner talking to Cash Hudson. Not only are they dating, but if she’s related to Randon, she stands to inherit his fortune.”

  Connor’s eyes widened. “She’s related to Randon?”

  “Her last name is Evans.”

  Connor twisted to look over his shoulder.

  “Don’t look.”

  He faced her again. “I only wanted to see if she looks like Randon.”

  Marissa shook her head. With Randon’s dark hair and olive skin, she never would have guessed the two were related. “She doesn’t.”

  Connor narrowed his eyes. “Marriage then? Ex-wife? We don’t know much about Randon before he moved here. Perhaps this doesn’t have anything at all to do with an inheritance and everything to do with jealousy. Cash didn’t like the kind of relationship his girlfriend had with her ex.”

  Marissa bit her lip. As wealthy as Rando
n was, it was hard to believe money wasn’t involved. “Either one is a valid motive.”

  “I’m glad she doesn’t have to be your wedding planner anymore.” Connor reached behind her to pull open her door. “Now let’s get you to the police station before there’s another attempt on your life.”

  “I’m going to get this even if it kills me.” Tandy growled in frustration from behind the coffee shop bar.

  “It’s not going to kill you. It’s a napkin.” Zam demonstrated once again, flipping the folded napkin in the air like a frisbee, catching it on the side of his bent elbow, popping it into the air again to catch on the back of his hand, then turning his hand over to guide the napkin to the table with his knuckles.

  Tandy twisted her wrist to twirl the napkin up, but it rocketed forward against Zam’s chest. “You make it look so easy.”

  “It gets easier the more you do it.” He retrieved the napkin from where it had clung to his t-shirt like a dryer sheet. “Lead with the crease. The weight will guide it.”

  She took the napkin, angled the crease, and flicked. Up it went. “Oh…oh…” She bent her elbow then bent her knees to get under the napkin. It wasn’t pretty, but it was the first time she’d caught the flimsy piece of paper. She grinned triumphantly, afraid to move. “I got it.”

  Zam pumped a fist in the air.

  The front door swung open, ringing the bell. Was Tandy ready to try out her new skill on customers?

  Oh, it was only Marissa. Though that might be better.

  “Hey, watch my new trick.” Tandy grabbed the napkin, spun it in the air, and caught it on her elbow again. She didn’t even have to squat this time.

  Marissa stopped on the other side of the bar, watching. She continued watching as if she thought there might be more. “Is that in case I spill tea on your elbow again?”

  Tandy grinned at Zam. Had he read Marissa’s lips? If so, he might have questions.

  Rather than react, he simply demonstrated the full trick, placing the napkin in front of Marissa like a waiter would do before serving her drink.