Wedding Bells and Deadly Spells

by Danielle Garrett

  “She must be new,” I noted as I rounded the counter and followed Aurelia deeper into the shop.

  We passed the private fitting rooms and then ducked into Aurelia’s studio, where she designed and created all of her gowns. The large space was a strange dichotomy of order and disorder. Everything had its place but the sheer volume of trinkets, baubles, and materials was overwhelming all the same. A dress form took center stage, and as we walked past, Aurelia made a gesture and two threaded needles sailed to life and began making tiny, near invisible stitches along the hem of the gown.

  Ahead, Aurelia opened a door to a room I’d been in a few times. Her personal office. A white desk occupied the majority of the space, but she also had two sleek armchairs and a small circular glass table. She went around the desk, tapped a few buttons on a fancy espresso machine, and it whirled into life, spitting out two foamy cappuccinos within seconds. She handed one to me and then took her seat in the opposite chair.

  “Thank you,” I said, breathing in the soothing scent. “Vanilla?”

  “That’s right,” she said. “Is it too strong? I have another, if you’d prefer.”

  I shook my head. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”

  “So, tell me, what brings you by?” Aurelia asked.

  I drew in a deep breath and then took another sip of the fruity drink. “I wanted to stop by and share some news before you heard it through the grapevine.”

  She dropped a quick glance to my left hand. “Should I consider this a consultation?”

  “Oh! No, no. Nothing like that,” I replied with a laugh. Ever since introducing her to Caleb at a wedding show six months ago, she’d been dropping not-so-subtle hints about a pending engagement. As of yet, my all-important finger was still ringless, but Aurelia was convinced it wouldn’t remain that way for long.

  “I quit my job. I’m not working for the firm anymore.”

  Aurelia’s eyes went wide. She leaned forward and placed her coffee on the small table, as if she no longer trusted herself to keep a grip on it. “You what?”

  I explained what happened at the Stimpton wedding and Aurelia cringed. “You certainly have had some bad luck this past year.”

  I would argue that Evan Stimpton had worse luck, but it seemed a macabre point to make, so I just nodded in agreement.

  Aurelia collected her coffee cup and sat back again, her eyes staring blankly into space as she processed my announcement. After a moment, she gave a small shrug. “Well, selfishly, I’m sad you won’t be at the firm anymore. You were my favorite planner to deal with. By far.” She didn’t elaborate, but I could easily conjure up a list of other planners that might not be as accommodating as I was. “But as a friend, I’m eager to see where your road leads to next. Any ideas?”

  “Not any good ones,” I replied. “As you know, Hyacinth pretty much has the Seattle market cornered, at least, on the supernatural side of things. There are dozens of firms if I were to cross over to the human side.”

  Aurelia gasped. “You wouldn’t.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh at her shock. “It’s not that bad. You know, I used to work for the human division before I got my final promotion last year to the magic side. Sure, magic makes weddings a lot more fun, but at least I could still do what I love.”

  “Hmm,” Aurelia harrumphed, not looking convinced in the slightest. “Well, if you wanted my advice, I think you’d have a good shot at giving A Touch of Magic a run for their money if you were to open your own planning business.”

  I lifted my brows and she continued, “You and I both know brides can often … over-exaggerate their frustrations, and we also know that sometimes things just happen, but even with that in mind, I’d wager that A Touch of Magic has a roster of unhappy clients. I’ve heard dozens of complaints, some directly, others by accident. Up until now, I never felt I should share them, what with you working for the company and all, but since you don’t anymore …”

  “What kind of complaints?” I asked warily.

  “Oh, all kinds of things. A lot of it seems to revolve around billing issues. Fees and service charges added to everything. Beyond that, I’ve heard complaints about missed appointments, lack of availability, the wrong information going to invitation engravers and calligraphers resulting in late invites, that kind of thing. There were two brides who ended up having all their consultations together, as if they were having one of those twinsie double weddings, because their planner had overlooked one of them and had to squeeze everything together to make her schedule work.”

  I reared back, horrified. “Who was that?”

  “Hmm. A Tawny, maybe?”

  “Tawny Lauer?” I hissed. “What the hex was she thinking? She’s been a wedding planner since I was in academy!”

  “Well, perhaps it’s time she start thinking about retirement,” Aurelia offered helpfully.

  I sat back in my chair, stunned by the revelations. “You know, Harmony said the same thing. Well, not the complaint part, but she said I should start my own business.”

  Aurelia gave a knowing smile. “Now, there’s an idea.”

  I sighed. “I wouldn’t even know where to start. I couldn’t take any of my existing clients. I’d have to start completely from scratch.”

  “You have friends in high places, Ana,” she reminded me, a gleam in her eyes. “As you can imagine, I’m virtually flooded with requests from new brides. You and I both know that the dress is where newly engaged women tend to gravitate first. Not everyone who contacts me has already nailed down a coordinator or even considered it. I’ll speak with Felicia—she deals with all new clients—and make sure she has your information.”

  “Whoa!” I said, raising a hand. “I appreciate the offer, Aurelia. Truly. But, I’m not sure that’s the direction I want to go.”

  She considered me, her eyes still sparkling, then nodded in agreement. “All right. We’ll put that on ice. For now,” she added with a wink.

  Why did I get the feeling my phone would be buzzing with potential clients by the end of the day?

  “Besides, I promised Caleb I’d give it a week before I made any big decisions.”

  Aurelia smiled over the rim of her coffee mug. “And how is that hunky man of yours?”

  I laughed. Aurelia had officially joined the Agent McCord fan club after his role in saving her from the grips of a powerful curse. “He’s good. Busy, as always, especially with this new murder investigation. He’ll probably—” I stopped short.

  Oops. I wasn’t entirely sure Evan Stimpton’s murder was intended to be public news just yet.

  “Murder?” Aurelia repeated, lowering her mug.

  I swallowed. “Evan Stimpton. Turns out he was poisoned. That’s why he collapsed at the altar.”

  “How awful!”

  “Caleb’s the lead on the case. He’s interviewing people again today.” I paused and shook my head. “Evan was … difficult … but it’s still hard to imagine someone hating him enough to want him dead.”

  Aurelia snorted. “Difficult is putting it mildly, my dear friend. Evan Stimpton was a spoiled brat who was raised by a horde of nannies who’s best defense against him was to throw him a shiny new toy anytime he got cranky.”

  I blinked, surprised by Aurelia’s brutal take. She wasn’t wrong necessarily, but it still seemed out of character for her to speak that way of anyone, let alone someone recently passed.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, shifting in her seat. “But I don’t do well with aggressive men. My ex was a real piece of work and I saw a lot of him in Evan. I’m probably projecting.”

  “I didn’t know that. I’m sorry.”

  She waved a hand. “It’s in the past.”

  “I didn’t realize you’d even met Evan Stimpton,” I said, confusion knitting my brows together. Traditionally, the brides came in to the fittings sans-groom in order to make the big reveal more of a surprise.

  “Oh, he came storming in here without an appointment, demanding to see the dress. Charlen
e was with him. She looked miserable and embarrassed. When I asked her what she wanted, he snapped at me and reminded me that he was the one paying for it and that he would see the dress.”

  I exhaled. “I had no idea.”

  “It was over the top and not something I’d dealt with before, that much is for sure!”

  “What happened? Did she put the dress on?”

  “I don’t think she had much of a choice.” Aurelia paused, her lips going into a thin line. “He made some critiques, told her to hurry and change or they’d miss their dinner reservations, and then they left. That was the last time I saw either of them.”

  “Stars, what a nightmare. I wonder what set him off like that.”

  “I don’t know,” Aurelia replied. “But I’ve never been so glad to write up a final receipt before in my entire career.”

  I scoffed. “Yeah, I know that feeling. I planned a whole dinner party to celebrate after the reception was done.”

  Aurelia smiled sadly. “You’re going to find your way, Ana. And remember, I’m always here to help. Anytime.”

  “Thanks, Aurelia. That really means a lot. And, you never know, I just might take you up on it.”

  “Good.” She beamed. “Now, let’s talk wedding dresses! I was thinking the other day that a sweetheart neckline would be lovely with your figure. Do you think you’ll wear your hair up, or down?”

  “Aurelia!”

  “What?” she asked with a sly smile. “It never hurts to be prepared, dear.”

  Chapter 7

  Caleb didn’t seem surprised when I relayed Aurelia’s story over dinner. “Honestly, after the interviews I had today, it checks out. I’ve never had so many people pile on to complain about a victim before. Normally, even if they hated the guy’s guts, they’d try to come up with something positive to say out of respect for the dead.” He shook his head. “Not this time.”

  “Listen, I worked for Evan and Charlene for over six months and every moment I had to deal with them was unpleasant and, at times, downright miserable. I don’t have a hard time believing he left a bad impression on people, but there’s a huge jump between that and killing someone. Especially on his wedding day. I mean, that’s pretty sinister.”

  Caleb inclined his head, fork poised over his meal. “Agreed. It also makes me wonder what Charlene saw in him. By all accounts, she’s a social butterfly with lots of friends. What’s your impression of them as a couple?”

  I hitched one shoulder. “I don’t know.”

  Caleb narrowed his eyes, a smile playing at his lips. “Oh, come on, Ana. Don’t give me that. I know you have an opinion.”

  I sighed. “Fine. Honestly, I thought they deserved each other. Charlene might have a lot of friends, but she’s not a friendly person. At least, not to those she sees as being beneath her. Unless you have money, power, and influence, you’re no better than a piece of tissue paper stuck on her Manolos.”

  “Yikes.” Caleb cringed.

  “I didn’t think they had the kind of enduring love from a movie, but they were the kind of couple who would stick it out, using each other’s power to get whatever they wanted, all while building upon their families’ already vast fortunes. I mean, even just the way he was looking at her walking down the aisle. There was no emotion, no love. I wouldn’t be surprised to find out the whole thing was some kind of modern-day arranged marriage, or at the very least, there weren’t some heavy incentives on both sides that pushed them together in the first place.”

  Caleb listened intently, then took a few bites, pondering my assessment further. “Any chance she’s the one who poisoned him?”

  I nearly choked on my own dinner. “What? No!”

  “How can you be so sure?” he asked. “If they weren’t in love and she decided she wanted out, it seems she would have had few options. Neither of their families would want a broken engagement tarnishing their spotless reputations, let alone a runaway bride situation. Maybe she thought bumping him off was the only way out.”

  It was absurd, but I humored him, taking a moment to consider it. After a beat, I shook my head. “I don’t know. My gut says no, but it seems like the suspect pool might be pretty big on this one, so maybe it’s best to include her.”

  “Would she have had access to him that morning?” Caleb asked. “Traces of the poison were found in his stomach contents—”

  I put my fork down and pushed my plate away.

  “Sorry,” Caleb said, wincing.

  “Remember when we first started dating and you had a ‘no crime scene talk’ rule?” I asked with a wry smile. “Maybe we should go back to that.”

  Caleb laughed softly and nodded his agreement. “Fair enough.”

  I was a crime show junkie and loved a good murder mystery—well, the fictional variety—but discussing stomach contents over dinner was a step too far.

  “Tell me what else you and Aurelia discussed,” Caleb prompted, still picking at his own entree.

  I debating telling him about her not-so-subtle proposal hints, but decided against it. We’d discussed marriage before, but only in vague, abstract ways that weren’t framed in a way that made it personal to our relationship. Even after nearly a year of dating, I wasn’t sure I even knew if Caleb wanted to marry at all one day. Did he want kids? That was another area we’d silently marked as off-limits. But why? Sitting there across from him, I wasn’t sure.

  “I told her I quit A Touch of Magic.”

  “Oh?” He raised his brows. “And what did she say to that?”

  “She was disappointed, but quickly rebounded and told me all the reasons why I should open my own planning business. She even offered to throw business my way.”

  “And?” he prodded. “Are you going to take her up on the offer?”

  I frowned and cocked my head. “Aren’t you the one who just this morning, told me to take a week before thinking too much about it?”

  “Yeah,” he replied with a laugh. “And now I’m saying maybe you should strike while the iron is hot! Seriously, Ana, think about how many calls she must get a week. If even a small percentage of them took her advice and called you for a consultation, your schedule would be packed in no time. I can’t think of a better ally in the business. Aurelia is expensive and exclusive. The types of people who call her for an appointment are the exact same people who need a wedding coordinator and who have the types of weddings that you like. Big, flashy, over the top.”

  I tapped my fingernails against the stem of my wine glass.

  “Okay, think about this. How much was getting scooped off the top of your commission?” he continued. “All of that money was going to Hyacinth and the partners. Meanwhile, you were the one out there on the front lines, so to speak.”

  “That’s because they ran the business side. I’m wouldn’t know the first thing about any of that. And if you thought my schedule was outrageous before, just imagine what it would be like if I were to go into business for myself. It would never stop! I wouldn’t have the money to hire an assistant, at least, not right away, so I’d be stuck doing all the little stuff while trying to cram in as many clients as I could just to keep myself afloat.”

  He gave a begrudging nod, acknowledging my point. “What does Harmony think?”

  I sighed. “You know how she is. All starry-eyed and full of big dreams. To her, it’s as easy as a snap of the fingers. Presto, change-o, you have a business.”

  Caleb snorted. “Presto, change-o? Is that an official spell, Ms. Winters?”

  I laughed. “Can you tell I’ve been practicing my magic lessons?”

  “Very nice.”

  I blew out a long sigh. “I don’t know. I mean, Harmony’s been pitching in and paying rent, but I don’t know how long I can count on that. If things didn’t take off right away, it wouldn’t be long before I really found myself in a pickle.”

  “You think she’s going to bail out?”

  Caleb knew my history with my sister. While she’d stuck around this time for nearl
y a year and hadn’t shown signs of flaking out and leaving in the middle of the night, as was her teenage MO, I also knew she wasn’t likely to be content spending the next year sleeping on my sofa—comfortable as it was.

  “I don’t know what’s going on with her. She’s working full time, and it seems all her spare time is going to her potion classes, but I don’t know to what end. We need to sit down and have a serious conversation about her plans. It’s been on my mind for a while, and this whole thing seems to be accelerating things. If I don’t find something quick, I’ll have to start seriously looking at other places to live. My savings won’t allow me to sign another year-long lease.”

  Caleb nodded, his eyes hooded as he looked down at the contents of his plate. “And the odds of that new place being in another haven…?”

  “I don’t know,” I answered quietly. “That’s not what I want to do.”

  “But?”

  “But, yeah, it’s a possibility.”

  Caleb set his fork to one side and reached for my hand across the table. “Ana, I know you have to do what’s best for you, and I trust that you’ll make the right decision, but I’d be an idiot if I didn’t at least try to make you stay, because I don’t want to lose you.”

  The simple statement hit me in the chest with the force of a thrown hammer. Caleb wasn’t an overly emotional man. He didn’t wear his heart on his sleeve or make grand, overwhelming romantic gestures. His affection was more understated, a bouquet of flowers for no reason on a Wednesday, the steady hand at my back whenever I got tense, a foot rub after a long day. We’d never told each other how we felt or dropped the L-bomb, even though I quietly suspected we both felt it.

  I squeezed his hand tight, anchoring myself in the moment. “You’re not going to lose me, Caleb. I might not be sure of much right now, but I do know that we are special, you are special, and even if my circumstances change, I’m not giving up on us without a fight.”