by Laura Durham
Eat, Prey, Love
An Annabelle Archer Wedding Planner Mystery
Laura Durham
Broadmoor Books
Contents
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Eat, Prey, Love
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
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About the Author
Acknowledgments
Eat, Prey, Love
An Annabelle Archer Wedding Planner Mystery
* * *
By Laura Durham
Chapter 1
I dropped my black carry-on bag in the foyer of the hotel suite and rubbed the deep groove it had left in my shoulder. Next time I wouldn’t pack so much for the plane, I told myself. Not that I’d be getting on another thirty-plus hour flight anytime soon.
The trip from Washington, DC, to Bali, Indonesia, had gone through New York and Taiwan before reaching the exotic island that would be home for the next week. It had taken over a day of travel to arrive, and I could feel the exhaustion begin to overtake me as I followed my Balinese room butler while he gave me a tour of the spacious suite.
“Your living and dining room, Ms. Archer,” the man said, sweeping an arm to encompass the beige-and-teakwood furniture that decorated the room. A large round mirror hung over a table that held an arrangement of white orchids and a russet-colored urn with a lid.
I took a quick peek at myself in the mirror. Aside from the fact that my long auburn hair hadn’t been washed in almost two days, and most of my makeup had worn off, I didn’t look as tired as I felt. “Call me Annabelle.”
“Okay, Ms. Annabelle.” The man grinned and swept an arm in the direction of the flat-screen TV on a polished-wood console.
I lifted the fresh-flower garland from around my neck and placed it on the round dining table beside a glass bowl of tropical fruits, feeling my stomach growl at the sight of the food. When had I last eaten? At this point, the meals on the airplane were a blur of blandness. I ran my hand over the bumpy green skin of a small fruit I’d never seen before and wondered if it would be sweet or tart.
“Your bedroom and closet, Ms. Annabelle.” The butler led me from the living room to the bedroom with a king-sized bed covered in white linens with huge wall mirrors to each side. This room, like the first one, had one entire wall of glass that looked out onto the balcony and was covered with beige linen drapes. He pulled open the drapes and light poured into the room.
I blinked at the brightness and made a mental note to close the curtains before I changed. I then poked my head into the walk-in closet with a series of blond wood drawers beneath the long hanging racks on two sides. “This is larger than some apartments in Georgetown.”
The butler smiled again and nodded. I fell in step behind him as he showed me the final room—the marble and glass bathroom with a sleek freestanding tub at one end, broken up by a long stretch of countertop and double sinks before the glass-enclosed shower at the other. I opened a frosted-glass door next to the shower and the lid of a modern-looking toilet rose automatically.
“It’s motion activated,” the butler explained, waving his hand up and down to demonstrate how to raise and lower the lid. “And the seat is heated. You have a control panel to the side.”
Wow, I mouthed.
The butler gestured to the glass wall at the far end of the bathroom. “The hot tub is outside on the balcony. You let me know when you want to use it, and I will remove the cover and turn it on for you.”
I looked at him. “I have my own hot tub?”
The dark-haired man smiled and nodded. He seemed pleased by how impressed I was with the suite. “Would you like to use it now?”
I waved away the thought. “No, not now. I should unpack first.”
He bobbed his head and smiled some more. “If you need anything at all, you call me.”
I followed him back through the suite, tipping him with American dollars since I hadn’t had the chance to change money yet. He seemed pleased as he closed the front door of the room behind him, although I suspected he would have smiled even if he’d been disappointed. So far the Balinese people had impressed me as the happiest people I’d ever met. Certainly they smiled the most.
I took a deep breath, enjoying being alone in my room after such a long time in a plane surrounded by people. I slid off my black cardigan and draped it over the back of a teak wood chair as I crossed the living room and pulled open the sliding glass door that led to the balcony. The long marble balcony stretched the entire length of my suite with a covered sunken hot tub at the far end and a collection of dark brown and cream lounge furniture topped with orange throw pillows that filled the remaining space. As tasteful as the furniture was, it was the view that had me catching my breath.
Standing at the glass balcony wall, I could see the blue of the Indian Ocean in front of me, blocked only by clusters of tall palm trees and one of the hotel pools dotted with lounge chairs at its edge as it ran the length of the resort. To my right, ivory curtain-draped cabanas sat along the side of the pool, and I could hear a few people splashing around in the clear water. I looked past the pool to the cliff that jutted out into the ocean and spotted a multitier Balinese temple perched on the edge. It reminded me of a wedding cake with its white layers getting progressively smaller until it reached a point at the top. As the owner of Wedding Belles, one of Washington DC’s top wedding planning companies, I had weddings on my mind more than most people.
I took a deep breath, smelling the faint scent of salt water and feeling my shoulders relax. I sat down on the nearest lounge chair and stretched my feet out in front of me, letting my head drop back against the cushion and closing my eyes. I breathed in slowly and tried to let the plane trip melt away.
“Can you believe this place?” Kate’s voice jerked me out of my moment’s peace. My assistant’s head was leaning over the divide between my suite and hers, her blond bob moving in the breeze.
“It’s pretty amazing,” I said.
She took in my balcony and nodded in approval. “You have a hot tub, too. I’m going to come over and check out your place.”
Her head disappeared before I could tell her that our rooms were probably identical, so I reluctantly rose from the lounge chair and walked to my front door as the doorbell chimed.
“Don’t you love the fact that we have doorbells?” she asked when I’d opened the door. “It’s probably because you wouldn’t hear someone knocking if you were all the way in the bedroom or bathroom. Speaking of bathrooms, can you believe that shower? Our entire crew could fit inside.” She lowered her voice as if an imaginary person might overhear us. “And the toilet seat is heated.”
I was amazed that Kate had as much energy as she did after our long trip and lack of sleep. I was also surprised that she’d already changed out of her leggings and hoodie from the plane and was wearing a pink-and-white sundres
s that, per usual, showed plenty of leg. “The hotel is spoiling us; that’s for sure.”
Kate kicked off her pink kitten heels, leaving them behind in the foyer. “I mean, we’ve been on FAM trips before, but this is incredible.”
I had to agree. As wedding planners, we’d been invited to stay overnight and familiarize ourselves with various hotels and resorts (the phrase “FAM trip” was short for “familiarization trip”), but never had we been invited to Bali and put up in suites in a luxury oceanfront resort that had been named one of the top in the world.
“When do you think we meet the other people on the trip?” Kate asked as she flopped down on my couch and tucked her bare feet under her.
I shrugged. “The official events don’t begin until tonight’s dinner.”
“Did you see the attendee map they emailed us? There are planners here from Paris, Australia, and Japan. It’s so cool that we’re the only planners from DC.”
I didn’t want to tell Kate that I’d been a little intimidated when I’d seen the list of the forty other planners, florists, and caterers who would be joining us. One of the LA planners had even had his own reality show.
“Don’t worry, Annabelle.” Kate seemed to read my mind. “We’re just as fabulous as the rest of the people here. Our Rose Garden wedding was featured in Insider Weddings magazine just last month.”
“And I’m sure that’s one of the reasons we’re here,” I said, joining her on the couch and lifting the glass dome off a plate of miniature sweets on the coffee table. “The owners of the magazine are co-sponsoring the trip.”
“Booking that White House wedding definitely made up for some of our past disasters.” Kate took a mini tart topped with tropical fruits when I held out the plate.
“I hope you don’t go around telling people we have wedding disasters,” I said, popping a tartlet in my mouth and sighing at the sweetness of the fruit and pastry cream.
Kate swallowed and dabbed at the edge of her mouth. “Well, what would you call the murders?”
I gave her my sternest look. “I would call them an off-limit topic of conversation on this trip.”
She held up her hands. “Fine. You’ll have to tell the rest of the gang, though. You know how Fern loves to gossip.”
I thought this was rich coming from Kate since she was usually the person to whom our friend, and go-to wedding hairstylist, Fern loved gossiping.
Kate stood up and bounded out to the balcony. “Do you think we can see their rooms from ours?”
I followed her with a little less bounce in my step. “Maybe. They should all be on the same floor as us.”
Kate craned herself over the glass barrier. “Fern, Richard, Buster, Mack!” She paused as she waited for a response, but no one answered.
“Maybe they don’t have their balcony doors opened.” I leaned my forearms against the glass and looked down on the pool area. “Richard looked pretty tired when we arrived. He might be taking a nap.”
“And Buster and Mack said they needed to meet with the in-house floral department about tonight’s design,” Kate said. “How cool is it that they’re going to be teaching the staff at the resort how to arrange flowers while we’re here?”
“Apparently, the guys at Insider Weddings talked up their design for our Rose Garden wedding so much to the hotel manager that she insisted they come and teach her floral team,” I said.
“They’ll still be able to have fun with us, won’t they?” Kate asked. “Although our schedule looks pretty packed, too.”
“What schedule?” I asked.
Kate flung a hand in the direction of my bedroom. “There’s an itinerary on the bed. Which reminds me, we’re supposed to meet the group in the lobby for afternoon tea in about ten minutes.”
I straightened up. “Ten minutes? Why didn’t you tell me? No wonder you look so cute.”
Kate winked at me. “Be honest, Annabelle. I always look cute.”
Before I could respond, my eye caught a glimpse of a blond man in beige pants and a mango-colored shirt walking along the pool deck toward the hotel. Something about the way he walked made me pause, and I tried to get a better look as he vanished inside the building.
“Are you okay?” Kate asked. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
I shook my head, trying to shake the thought out of my head. “It must be the jet lag. Either that or I think I did see a ghost.”
“Come again?”
“Do you remember Jeremy Johns, that awful New York designer who made our lives miserable during the yacht wedding?”
Kate crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes. “You mean the guy who tried to pull off a hideous South Beach meets South of France design scheme? It rings a bell. Why?”
I shuddered even though it was warm outside. “I could swear I just saw him walking into the hotel.”
Chapter 2
“Impossible,” Richard said as we walked down the wide hallway from our rooms to the elevator. The dark wooden floors and high ceilings of the hall made our voices reverberate, and since his suite was across the hall from mine, he’d heard us heading down to the lobby for tea.
My best friend, and arguably DC’s top caterer, looked impeccable, as usual, in black flat-front pants and a freshly pressed blue shirt. Even his dark hair was coifed into neat spikes, making him appear even taller than he was. No one would have guessed that he’d been on planes for nearly two days.
“Why is it impossible that Jeremy Johns would be here?” I asked, stepping around one of the glowing frosted-glass lanterns set along the walls every few feet.
“Jeremy Johns?” Fern asked as he ran to catch up to us, his shoes echoing off the wooden planks. “Why are we talking about that troll?”
Kate jerked a thumb in my direction. “Annabelle thinks she saw him walking from the pool into the lobby.”
Fern sucked in air and pressed a hand to his chest. “Why would Jeremy Johns be here? I thought he vanished without a trace.”
“Is that a Hawaiian shirt?” I asked, eying the oversized palm fronds gracing Fern’s shirt and stepping into the open elevator.
“It’s a tropical print.” He waved a hand in the air. “Since we’re in the tropics.”
No surprise that Fern had already dressed to fit the setting. He never missed an opportunity for themed clothing, and I could only imagine what other outfits he had planned for the trip.
Kate pressed the button for the lobby level. “Is it possible Jeremy is part of the FAM trip?”
Fern wrinkled his nose. “I didn’t see his name on the list. Unless he’s operating under an alias.” He nudged Kate. “Maybe he’s actually a spy, and the annoying, arrogant-designer persona is all an act.”
“Then he’s an excellent actor,” I said. “I’ve never been more convinced that someone is a dreadful human being in my life.”
The elevator doors opened with a ping, and Richard held them open as we exited. We walked around the elevator bank and down the short flight of stairs into the sunken lobby.
“Wow,” Kate whispered.
Wow was right. The wall facing the ocean was floor-to-ceiling glass, and towering square columns ran the length of the expansive open lobby. Multiple groupings of beige upholstered sofas and rattan swivel chairs were topped with orange cushions and clustered around large wooden coffee tables. From the glass wall, we could look out onto the pool, which featured two facing rows of massive stone statues of women carrying shallow bowls on their heads. The statues, ten on each side, rose forty feet in the air and were spaced every ten feet until the pool deck met the sand.
I scanned the lobby and spotted the trip organizer, Carol Ann, sitting with a pair of men and a young blonde. Even though we’d never met, I’d been following her on Instagram since we’d gotten the invitation, and I would have known the curly brown hair and wide blue eyes anywhere.
She spotted us and clapped her hands. “You’re here!” Her accent gave away the fact that she was born and bred in Atlanta, as did h
er perfectly accessorized pink Lily Pulitzer dress and full makeup.
“It’s so nice to meet you,” I said as she rushed up to us. “I’m Annabelle Archer and this is Kate . . .”
She ignored my outstretched hand and pulled me into a hug. “I know who you are. After this trip we’re all going to be like family, so we might as well start off that way, right?”
She moved from me to Kate as Richard raised an eyebrow. He was not one for instant intimacy. We’d been best friends for over five years, and I could count the times we’d hugged on one hand and have fingers to spare.
“Richard Gerard from Richard Gerard Cater—“ Richard began before he was crushed into a hug.
Carol Ann released Richard, then appraised Fern’s tropical print shirt and brown hair pulled up in a man bun. “You must be . . .”
Fern gave her a wink and pulled her hand to his lips for a kiss. “Fern, darling. Just Fern.”
Carol Ann blushed then waved for us to follow her as she walked back across the lobby. “How were your flights? You aren’t too jet-lagged are you? It’s such an ordeal to get here, but isn’t it worth it?”
“She’s certainly bubbly,” Kate said so only I could hear her.
“I don’t think she flew in today,” I said. “Since she put together this trip, I’m sure she arrived a couple of days ago.”
Carol Ann stopped when we reached the two men and one blond woman I’d seen her sitting with when we arrived. The two men stood and turned.