A Wedding to Die For

by Adrianne Lee

  I sighed. “Makes me glad that I work behind the scenes. No one cares who I am.” An awful thought occurred to me of one more way that Meg’s life would be different after tomorrow. “Meg is about to lose that anonymity, isn’t she?”

  “Yep. Paparazzi staking out Peter will soon recognize her. Her car. She’ll be followed everywhere. The more famous Peter becomes, the more she’ll struggle to avoid the press.”

  “And the more she gives up in order to avoid them, the smaller her world will become.” The realization sent an ache of sadness through me for Meg. She was a small-town girl with a penchant for chaos and a perpetual need to be loved. She was unlikely to realize the inherent danger of the press until it was too late. I groaned. “Why couldn’t she have fallen for one of the key grips or set designers? Why the star of the show?”

  Seth made a face. “That’s the problem with love. The heart wants who it wants. And that’s not always the person who is best for us.”

  “Speaking from experience, Quinlan?” I tried reading his face, but he wasn’t giving anything away.

  “Just an observation.”

  I didn’t believe him, but the bartender was ready to serve, and I was ready to drink. Beyond ready. “Well, I’ll let you do your thing. I’m off to play phone police. Have to make sure the staff and the harpist aren’t carrying.”

  Seth laughed as I strode off. Hearing the click of his camera, I wondered if he was taking a sweeping shot of the room or a shot of me walking away. I didn’t look back. After securing a glass of wine and speaking to both the bartender and harpist, I learned that Mick and Vick were playing phone valets tonight. I was relieved not to have the responsibility. I returned to the long table to set the bridesmaids’ gifts next to the appropriate place cards on the table.

  Zelda appeared at my side to remind me to keep Tanya in check, and I reassured her that I’d do my best. The bridesmaids and their plus ones arrived, laughing and jovial. The three men went straight to the bar while the women found their seats at the table, chattering gaily.

  Zelda had grabbed a glass of white wine, I noticed, as she returned to my side. “So how did the rehearsal go?”

  I sipped my merlot. “Tanya wasn’t there, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

  Tension seemed to float off her, softening her sweet features and bringing a smile to her eyes. “Dare I hope that she won’t show tonight either?”

  But as the words left her mouth, I saw her gaze dart to the doorway behind me, and her face went dark. Sure enough, as I glanced around, Tanya and Kramer were coming in. He was dressed in khakis and a polo shirt, no socks. He seemed ill at ease. Out of his element.

  She, however, wore an air of entitlement, punctuated by a hot-red dress that left nothing to the imagination. And yet, several men in the room seemed to be imagining plenty. I thought the bartender’s eyes were going to pop out of their sockets, and the harpist missed a chord.

  And out of the mouth of the woman dressed like a piñata came, “Where’d she get that? Hoochie Mamas R Us?”

  I choked on my wine. I’d been thinking updated Sharon Stone in Basic Instinct. Zelda patted my back. Before I could recover, Seth, shining knight and diplomat, stepped up, taking a couple of shots of Tanya and Kramer and then inviting them to collect drinks and indulge in the appetizers. Where were Peter and Meg? Why were we greeting their guests? They should have been here first. Before me. The only responsibility I had tonight as the maid of honor was to see that the bridesmaids’ gifts were distributed. Check. Done. Nothing in my handbook said “play hostess at rehearsal dinner.”

  “Can’t tell you how relieved I am that Peter isn’t allowing cell phones during the party tonight,” Ash said, arriving a bit breathless as if she’d been running “No one is going to ruin this wedding if I can help it.”

  I asked if she’d heard from Meg since the rehearsal, but she hadn’t. “You know Peter. He likes to make an entrance.”

  Ash headed to the bar as Reverend Bell and his wife arrived. I took a minute to ask him if Meg or Peter had mentioned making a stop along the way, but he shook his head, claiming he hadn’t heard anything. I considered going out front and using the restaurant phone to call Meg, but froze in place as the next guest arrived.

  Big Finn lumbered in, tie askew, brows furrowed, lips pressed so tight that air couldn’t slip through them. His jovial father-of-the-bride spirits seemed as absent as his daughter. The tension in the room vibrated against the walls, twanging through me as if I were a harp string. He didn’t acknowledge me or answer whether he knew Meg and Peter’s whereabouts. His gaze skipped over me, then over Zelda, and slammed into Tanya. Not a speck of male appreciation or lust appeared. Just the cold stare one gave a poisonous spider before squashing it.

  I gulped wine and spun back toward the entrance, hoping to catch sight of Meg and Peter. Instead, the couple coming toward me took me by surprise.

  “Oh, darling, there you are,” my mother said, wearing the fuchsia sundress that washed me out, but complemented her auburn hair and creamy skin perfectly. I gaped, head quirked to one side as if I were staring at a mirage, trying to discern whether or not my eyes were deceiving me. Hadn’t Mom told me a couple of hours ago that she and Billie weren’t coming tonight? Yes she had. They both had. But here they were—as welcome and lovely as a pair of spring flowers, smiling brightly. My insides warmed. It was such a nice, unexpected twist in a day full of wrong turns.

  I grinned and hugged my mother. “Thought you wouldn’t step foot in this place if that woman was here.” I kept my voice low enough for only her and Billie to hear.

  Gram sniffed. “I reminded Susan that Meg is like a second daughter to her and granddaughter to me and letting that woman keep us from helping our Meg celebrate the happiest event of her life is just plain wrong.”

  Mom retied the long fabric belt and grinned. “Sometimes your gram makes a whole lot of sense.”

  “Most of the time.” Gram sniffed.

  Mom leaned back and offered me a wink and then plucked at my hair. I sensed she was a second away from licking her finger and smoothing my eyebrows. I released her and stepped out of reach.

  Mom said, “I realized I didn’t want to miss Meg’s party. I mean, since there’s to be no reception tomorrow after the wedding, this might be our only chance to offer her our blessings.”

  “I’m so glad you’re both here.”

  “Rites of passage should be celebrated,” Billie said.

  “With those who love you,” Mom added. “Those you love.”

  “Meg will be thrilled.”

  “Where is she?” Billie asked, peering down her nose at the small groups clustered about the room. “Meg, I mean.”

  Ah, the question of the hour. “I have no idea. I can’t text her since I don’t have my phone, but I assume they’re on their way or they’d have called the restaurant.”

  “Of course,” Mom said as she pretended she wasn’t trying to spot Tanya.

  “Rude, if you ask me,” Billie said. “Finn taught her better manners than that. Must be the Hollywood influence.”

  I opened my mouth to defend L.A., but then I realized she might be right. Although I was disinclined to blame the industry. More likely Peter’s influence.

  Mom shushed Gram and led her to the bar. I had to find Zelda about fitting Mom and Gram into the table configuration—after having had her remove them less than an hour ago. And remind her that they also wanted to sit as far from Tanya as possible. I had a mental flash of the table listing to one side like a ship from the weight of all those preferring not to sit near Meg’s mom.

  Zelda squeezed Gram and Mom in beside Finn and herself. For the next half hour, Zelda and I worked the room, both of us avoiding Tanya. Big Finn kept his distance too, holding a drink, standing in a corner, his gaze never leaving his ex-wife. She didn’t seem unnerved by his stare, but I would have been.

  Where were Meg and Peter?

  I’d about made up my mind to make that phone call when
they finally showed up with Walter Fields in tow. A cheer greeted them. Meg smiled her brightest smile as Peter offered apologies, stating that he and his agent had to deal with a movie offer that came in out of the blue. It was a chance he couldn’t pass up, but please don’t ask for details as he wasn’t able to discuss those until the deal was inked. I studied Meg. Her smiles were as fake as that excuse. There hadn’t been an urgent movie offer. Peter just liked making an entrance.

  “Get used to it,” I whispered to her, handing her a glass of wine. “He can’t help himself. Diva.”

  This made her laugh. “I know, I know.”

  I stood aside as Meg made up for lost time, mingling and apologizing to her guests for being late. I tried to relax, but the undercurrent that had my nerves on edge earlier returned, a nagging ache just below my breastbone. Something bad was coming. I prayed I was overreacting. Or wrong. The sensation lingered, and with every passing minute, my dread increased.

  “Vick says it’s time to start serving,” Zelda told me. “Would you help me spread the word? I don’t want to just shout it out.”

  “Sure.” But she was doing a great job herding the guests to the table so I decided to slip into the ladies’ room before getting settled. When I came out, I heard a couple of voices around the corner by the men’s room. I went to check, but halted in my tracks when I recognized Peter’s voice. I was so used to hearing it on set that I’d know it anywhere. He was clearly pissed off, telling someone, “If you say one word about that to Meg, I’ll kill you.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Originally, I was to sit beside Meg, but Tanya had switched her place card with mine. I found myself in the middle of the table, seated next to Kramer. He looked as unhappy about it as I was. As I sat, he handed me a small envelope with my name scrawled on it. “TR said this was tucked into your napkin.”

  I scowled at the envelope, my annoyance about to boil over. It was small and square like a thank-you note. As curious as I was, I wasn’t about to read it with Kramer’s curious gaze studying me. I stuffed it into a pocket of my dress to deal with at a later time when I wasn’t rattled by overheard death threats. I stole covert glances at Meg’s fiancé. Who had he warned? What secret was he keeping from Meg? Something bad enough to threaten murder.

  I shuddered at the thought as my conscience deliberated what I should do about it. Tell Meg and let her decide whether or not to pursue it? I glanced at my best friend, watching her nibbling her bottom lip, a sign that she was still struggling with unresolved feelings, and I knew I couldn’t give her one more thing to try to figure out before tomorrow. I should either confront Peter with what I’d heard and demand an explanation or let it drop.

  “If you say one word about that to Meg, I’ll kill you.”

  I shuddered again. I couldn’t pretend I hadn’t heard it, and I couldn’t drop it.

  Peter stood, clinking his spoon against the side of his water glass. Silence hummed across the table, conversations stopped, and silverware was set aside. All eyes focused on Peter. He was in his element, TV star, movie actor, playing the lead role with a script written just for him, to an audience of adoring fans. Cue that famous smile.

  I watched the bridesmaids turn to putty and marveled that Mom and Billie were also being sucked in. Even Ash. Only Kramer, Big Finn, and I seemed immune to his spell. But then, Finn wasn’t paying attention. He hadn’t taken his eyes off his ex, that gaze more hate-filled than ever. I guessed Tanya stealing my seat next to Meg had stirred his temper more. Salt rubbed in old wounds. Meg would have preferred both her parents sit near her, but Finn had vetoed that, choosing the opposite end of the table and being as withdrawn as a turtle into its shell.

  When I reached for my wine, my gaze landed on Tanya. She was staring at her future son-in-law intently. I’d watched Meg introduce Peter to her earlier, and for an actor with his range, he’d seemed unable to put on the glad-to-meet-you warmth that I knew Meg craved. In my opinion, it was a point in his favor. There was that odd gleam in Tanya’s eye, the one she’d had when she told Peter, “Surprise.” It was a gotcha look. What trouble was she plotting now? I also noticed Peter was avoiding her gaze. Was it Tanya he’d threatened earlier?

  Peter interrupted my thoughts. “I want to welcome you all and apologize again for our late arrival. We appreciate that you’re all complying with our ‘no cell phones or cameras’ request and apologize for the inconvenience.”

  He took a sip from his cocktail. “Same rule applies tomorrow too. Sorry folks, but we hope you’ll understand. We don’t want our special day plastered all over the tabloids.” Although he hadn’t even glanced her way, Tanya reacted as if Peter had been speaking directly to Kramer and her. The look wasn’t lost on Ash, I observed. If her expression was any indication, she was mentally writing Tanya a wedding police ticket.

  Tanya stood, smiled sweetly, her drink raised in a toast, and her gaze going first to Peter, then to Big Finn. “I wouldn’t do anything to ruin my daughter’s wedding.”

  The words send a strange chill through me, like a foreboding.

  A bear-like growl escaped Big Finn, his face twisted in a thunderous scowl. I braced for an explosion of temper, but Zelda tugged on his sleeve, getting through to him. He nodded, settled down, and picked up his soup spoon again.

  Peter directed everyone to dig in and enjoy.

  It was a five-course, plated dinner, each dish more exquisite than the last, but the salad had barely been served when it was blatantly obvious that the groom had little in common with anyone else at the table. His ability to engage in small talk apparently required a script. He chatted with his Walter and Ash, who were seated on his left, totally ignoring his fiancée and her mother on his right, the other guests in the middle of the table, the bridesmaids, and his future father-in-law.

  I noticed a telltale shake in his right hand as he picked at his salad. He startled whenever he heard the click of Seth’s camera, his gaze darting over the guests and staff in search of a smuggled-in cell phone, a hidden camera. I’d never seen him so jumpy. Pre-wedding jitters? Or secrets he’d kill to keep secret?

  But he wasn’t my only concern. Given Big Finn’s mood, I prayed Mom and Gram knew better than to mention that Tanya had crashed the bachelorette party and that Meg and I had had a fight because of it. I was too far away to hear their conversation, but the irritated twitching of Big Finn’s eyebrows wasn’t reassuring.

  I concentrated on my meal. Each plate set before me was like an artist’s rendering in food, every bite a taste bud delight. The portions, however, reminded me of those served in a French restaurant I splurged on a couple of times a year. Small, but calorie laden. Just as well that my stomach was in such turmoil that I could eat little of all five courses. If this kept up, I’d have an ulcer before Meg and Peter left for their honeymoon. But at least I wouldn’t gain any weight.

  “Look at her.” Kramer nudged his elbow into my side, startling me out of my dark thoughts. I’d forgotten he was seated on my left. He’d been silent throughout the first four courses of the meal. I glanced toward him, trying to connect his comment with someone at the table. His gaze was shooting daggers at Tanya. “Someone could drown in her bullshit.”

  Tanya had her blond head tilted toward Meg. Ash was watching mother and daughter like a hawk. Whatever Tanya was saying had my best friend’s eyes full of joy. I prayed Kramer was wrong. That Tanya wasn’t spewing a stream of lies. But I had no reason to believe otherwise.

  “Makes me sick.” Kramer shoved his dessert away, nose wrinkled, as if the chocolate mousse were a mound of dog poo. “Never even mentioned she had a daughter until she realized who her kid was marrying, and even then, she kept the guy’s identity secret from me. Peter Fucking Wolfe.”

  “Really. You can’t guess why she didn’t tell you?” I asked, possibilities tripping through my mind, but I suggested the one that seemed most likely to me. “Was she, perhaps, afraid you’d spill all the details of the wedding to the highest paying gossip site?�
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  I swear he turned the color of eggplant, his eyes narrowing into slits, but he didn’t miss a beat. “What makes you think I haven’t?”

  For a second, I went very still. After thinking it through, though, I shook my head. “I doubt it very much. After all, you and Tanya are the only two members of the media in town. You’d be the most likely suspects. And believe me, Peter would see to it that you were both fired.”

  Kramer zinged a glance at Peter, his lip curling. He muttered, “That asshole. Thinks he can get away with anything. Him and that agent. To them, I don’t exist. Their mistake.”

  What did that mean? I considered how to ask him to explain, but Kramer was back to glaring at Tanya. “You’d think she was running for mother-of-the-fucking-year.”

  “You don’t think it’s natural for a mother to want to be part of her daughter’s wedding?”

  “Hah.”

  Yeah, me either. Not this mother.

  Kramer said, “TR doesn’t have a single speck of maternal instinct. Trust me. She was hiding behind the door when God handed out that particular gene.”

  “Then why did she even seek to reconnect with Meg?”

  “Him.” Kramer nodded toward Peter.

  A sinking feeling slipped through me. It was what I’d expected. I offered the reason I’d come up with. “She thinks her daughter being married to a rich, famous actor will open doors for her, doesn’t she?”

  “Hell no. She just wants to reconnect with him.”

  Reconnect? The bottom fell out of my stomach. “She used to date Peter?”

  “If you’re using date as a euphemism, then yes.”

  My eyes opened so wide they hurt. “What! When?”

  “That’s for me to know and you to wonder about.” Kramer scooted his chair back and headed to the bar, leaving me sitting there stunned into silence, my mind awash with slimy thoughts. Peter had slept with Tanya and was now marrying her daughter? Eww. Was it true? Shouldn’t Meg be told? Could I have this information and not tell her? Oh, God. The room suddenly felt like an oven. I needed to splash cold water on my overheated face. Now.