“I know,” Lottie said, “but he’s a hero in Genevieve’s eyes. He can do no wrong.”
“And what about you dear?” Betsy said, giving him a searching look. “Is he still a hero in your eyes? Joking aside, I know you still have a soft spot for him.”
Lottie shrugged. “I guess I do. I don’t think you ever get over your first crush, do you?”
Betsy nodded. “You’re right there. Seamus O’Tolle was my first crush. He was the neighbour’s son from over at the next farm in County Leitrim. He had hair as black as jet and so curly and fine, it was to die for. Whenever I saw him at church on a Sunday, I became a tongue-tied eejit. It took over a year until I plucked up the courage to have a proper conversation with him.”
Lottie smiled, knowing that feeling very well. “What did you talk about when you eventually did have a conversation?”
“It was mostly about how much he loved the colour of my brother’s eyes. They live together in Florida now,” Betsy replied with a wistful smile. “That’s the thing with love. It never fails to surprise you.”
“I won’t argue with you there,” Lottie said with a warm laugh. “I can safely say though that my feelings for Orlando are well and truly put to bed.”
“Yes dear, but whose bed?” Betsy replied enigmatically.
Chapter 2: Bad Taste
Lottie was locking up the shop and looking forward to a hot bath and an early night in preparation for tomorrow’s wedding when she received an unpleasant surprise. She had just said good night to Betsy and was heading to her SUV when she spotted a young man heading towards her.
“Oh great,” she hissed between her teeth. “This is all I need.”
“Hi, Lottie,” the man said hesitantly, his brown eyes fixed on his sneakers. “How are things?”
“Hi Tommy,” Lottie said, keeping her voice upbeat. “I’m just on my way home. I have a big day ahead.” She unlocked the car and made to open the driver’s door.
“Oh yeah, you’re catering for the Van Korbel wedding,” Tommy said, edging closer to her. “I’m working there as a waiter too. We’ll see each other probably.”
“Oh, okay, great,” Lottie replied, hovering by the driver’s door. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow then.”
“Maybe afterwards we could go out together and do something,” Tommy said quickly, looking at her face. He was a handsome man in his early twenties with short-cropped hair dyed peroxide blond and a neat little designer beard that was jet black.
He was cute in a puppy dog kind of way and brought out the protective instinct in Lottie. Unfortunately, she had brought out something in him as well.
“That’s nice, Tommy,” Lottie replied, “but I’ll probably be too tired, and you’ll be too, I shouldn’t wonder.”
“Oh no, I won’t,” Tommy said quickly. “I’d never be too tired around you. Let’s just have quality time together. That’s all I want.”
Lottie swallowed, knowing that he wasn’t going to make this easy for her. “I’m sorry Tommy. I don’t want to spend time with you, not tomorrow or in the near future.”
A pained look sliced through his eyes. “You . . . you don’t want to go out with me?”
Lottie gave him a sympathetic smile. “Tommy, you’re a nice guy but I’m just not interested, not in that kind of way. I’d appreciate it if you stopped coming by and texting me too.”
“I thought you liked me!” Tommy retorted. “That night at Stephanie’s birthday party, you were so nice to me, now you’re giving me the brush off, it’s not fair!”
“I’m not giving you the brush off,” Lottie returned. “I just don’t want to get involved with anyone at the moment.” She cringed inside as she remembered that night at her friend Stephanie’s thirtieth bash.
Stephanie had invited a load of her college friends of which Tommy Londen was one of them. He was a nice, friendly kid, and she had chatted pleasantly with him but as the night progressed, he started to drink heavily and began talking about his ex-girlfriend who had dumped him only the week before.
Lottie had happily obliged as a shoulder to cry on, and had stupidly given him her number and told him to call her anytime he was feeling low. Unfortunately, Tommy had read the signals wrong and had been pestering her for a date for the last three weeks.
“You’re just stringing me along,” Tommy snapped, his face darkening. “You’re just like all the others. I thought being so much older than me, you’d be different, but I was wrong.”
“I’m not that much older than you!” Lottie said, her voice rising. “I’m not stringing you along either. You’re a nice kid and I’m happy to stay your friend but that’s all it is. I don’t want to date you.”
“Please, just give me a chance,” Tommy replied, suddenly changing his tone. Anger changed to pathetic need in an instant. He reached forward and grabbed her arm. “Tell you what, let’s go for a drink now and have a talk. You’ll really like me when you get to know me, I swear.”
“Tommy! You’re hurting my arm!” Lottie retorted, her anger edged with fear. “Let me go now!”
Tommy obeyed, retreating from her like a scalded cat. He gave her a remorseful look. “I’m so sorry Lottie. I didn’t mean to grab you like that. I would never do anything to hurt you. I like you so much I sometimes get carried away. Just come on a date with me, just one and give me a chance. I’m a real nice guy when you get to know me.”
“Go home, Tommy,” Lottie said firmly. She got into her car and pulled the door toward her as a barrier. “If you ever try and grab me like that again, I will make a complaint to the police, do you understand?”
Tommy looked down miserably at his feet. He said nothing.
“Do you understand?” Lottie repeated, her voice as hard as steel.
He nodded without looking up. “Okay,” he mumbled.
Lottie nodded. “Good. I’ll be very busy tomorrow and then I’ll want to enjoy the reception with my friends, so it would be better if you didn’t come and speak to me at all. Clear?”
Tommy nodded again and without another word, turned and walked away. Lottie slammed the car door shut and made sure the vehicle was locked. Her stomach roiled with emotion, and she had to take several deep breaths to steady herself. She watched Tommy head down the sidewalk before he disappeared round a corner. She waited several more minutes before starting the engine.
As she started to drive home, Lottie began to feel a little better. She felt bad for being so hard with Tommy but if she hadn’t said something, he would have kept on harassing her and things could have turned ugly.
She tried not to feel guilty about it and pushed him to the back of her mind. She had a big day tomorrow. Not only was this a big deal for Genevieve, it was a big deal for her as well. If her cake and baked treats went down well, it could lead to more catering events and that would be a welcome source of extra income.
Lottie smiled to herself as she daydreamed at the idea of expanding the Sleepy Fox, imagining herself as the omnipotent CEO of a multi-million business.
Betsy would be her indispensable personal assistant and Abner, well, she found some use for Abner, but she had no idea what that might be.
Chief taster, she guessed. The idea of being a big shot thrilled her more than she expected. Maybe Jayne Merriot should be worried about the competition after all?
* * *
At six thirty the next morning, Lottie rose and showered and got dressed. She opted for a lemony coloured summer dress with a burgundy cord belt tied into a pretty bow. Slipping on her pair of peach coloured heels, she headed downstairs to fix some breakfast.
To her surprise, Doris Lefebvre, the genteel old lady who owned the Joseph Bonaparte Hotel where Lottie lived and helped out at, was already up and dressed. The old lady was busy preparing Eggs Benedict.
She was wearing her best floral frock which looked like it had come straight out of the nineteen hundreds, which it probably had, and was humming happily to herself. When she saw Lottie come into the kitchen, she beamed
with delight.
“Oh isn’t it simply wonderful!” Doris trilled. “I can’t remember the last time I went to a wedding, especially one as exquisite as this one. Genevieve is such a lucky girl!”
“Morning Doris,” Lottie said heading over to the cupboard to get a mug and some coffee. “I’m glad you’re looking forward to it, but it’s not Genevieve getting married, it’s her grandson, Orlando.”
“Oh such a delightful little boy,” exclaimed Doris. “He was such a big favourite of the ambassador. He’s beside himself with excitement as well. I’m preparing him breakfast though he swears he’s too excited to eat a morsel.”
“Okay, Doris,” Lottie said playing along. An ambassador had once indeed stayed at the Bonaparte, or so Lottie had been led to believe, but for some reason, Doris still thought he lived in the hotel. “Perhaps he’s right. Why don’t you have the Eggs Benedict yourself? You’ll have to need to keep your strength up. It’s going to be a long day.”
“Yes, you’re right of course,” Doris said, nodding in agreement. “Some dastardly assassin might poison the ambassador’s breakfast when I am distracted. That’s what assassins do you know.”
“Good thinking,” said Lottie, quickly coming forward and stopping Doris from mixing the hollandaise sauce she was making with half the bottle of sherry she had taken from under the sink. “Tell you what, you sit down and I’ll fix breakfast.”
“What a wonderful idea, oh I am beside with excitement. I remember Genevieve’s last wedding, it was such a lavish affair. All the best people in town were there.
The bridesmaids were a picture in pink, and her maid of honour was like an angel,” the little bird-like woman twittered happily as she sat down at the kitchen table.
“She was such a beautiful girl, oh, what was her name again? It was such a terrible thing that happened, you know. They found her body in the lake. Can you imagine how awful that would be? The ambassador was quite beside himself with grief.
He is a sensitive soul. Not like Genevieve’s husband. A dreadful brute that one, drank heavily and very free with his hands, if you get my meaning. He tried to do something quite unsavoury with my girdle in the summer house once.”
“That’s great, Doris,” Lottie said, only half-listening. “You do know that it’s not Genevieve who’s getting married? It’s her grandson, Orlando’s wedding. Doris, have you put lighter fluid in the hollandaise sauce?”
“Yes dear, I find it gives the eggs a nice kick,” Doris replied blithely. She suddenly frowned in confusion. “Genevieve can’t get married again, she’s already got a husband and she’s not a Moron.”
“It’s Mormon, Doris,” said Lottie, “and you’re right, she’s not. Her husband died a long time ago as well, but she’s not getting married again.”
“Of course she’s not. It’s Orlando getting married dear,” Doris said patiently. “I think you’re getting a little bit confused again. I’d lay off the lighter fluid if I were you.”
“Good morning all,” Betsy Cromer called out as she bustled into the kitchen through the back door. “All ready for the big day?”
“Hi Betsy,” said Lottie, “sit down, I’m fixing some breakfast and coffee.”
“Here, let me help,” the older woman said, going to get a couple more cups. “You all set?”
“Hopefully,” Lottie said. “Thanks again for helping me today, though I’d rather you enjoyed the day rather than be working.”
“Oh it’s no bother and once we’ve set out the cake and the other fancies, there won’t be much else to do,” replied Betsy, making a steaming cup of coffee for Doris. “It’s not like we’ll be waiting on or anything.”
At the mention of waiting staff, Lottie thought about Tommy and winced inside. She was not looking forward to seeing him again after yesterday’s unpleasant encounter, but hopefully he’d be too busy to notice her.
By all accounts, there would be five hundred guests attending the reception at Mayleaf Manor. The whole town had been invited not to mention all of Orlando’s and Mercedes’s wealthy and no doubt glamorous friends, so it was going to be quite the event.
“Now then, Doris, you know what’s going to be happening today?” Betsy asked. “Abner will pick you up at twelve to take you up to the house for the ceremony.”
“I hope he keeps his hands to himself,” Doris said primly. “My girdle is not for tampering with.”
Betsy shot Lottie a bemused look, who merely shrugged back in return. “Eggs Benedict, Betsy?” she said with a smile, “lighter fluid optional.”
* * *
Leaving Doris to finish getting ready, Lottie and Betsy drove to the Sleepy Fox to load up the food. Lottie had butterflies in her stomach as she carefully placed the different segments of the tiered wedding cake into the back of the SUV.
In a little while, she would be meeting Orlando again after fifteen years and it was making her anxious as anything. She berated herself for being so silly.
She wasn’t the lovesick acne ridden teenager any more, and he might not be the perfect Adonis she used to dream about at night. Perhaps she wouldn’t recognise him? She very much doubted he’d recognise her or even remember her. She wasn’t sure if that was a good or a bad thing.
“You’ll probably not even have chance to speak to him,” Betsy said as she loaded up the banana cupcakes. “It’s going to be such a busy day and he’ll be all eyes for his new wife, no doubt.”
“You’re right, Betsy,” replied Lottie. “I don’t know why I’m getting so stressed about it. I feel like a real fool.”
“Don’t be worrying about it, dear. Orlando’s the fool for not treating you better. He’d have been a lucky man having you as his sweetheart.”
“You’re sweetheart yourself for saying so,” Lottie chuckled, “but I don’t think men and me are compatible. All my relationships end in disaster. I must be jinxed or something. I think Orlando had a lucky escape.”
“It’s you that had the escape,” Betsy replied as she closed the back of the SUV and they got in the front. “Orlando was an obnoxious so-and-so when he was a baby and from what I’ve heard he hasn’t got any better.”
Lottie narrowed her eyes. She was now burning with curiosity. “Why? What have you heard?”
Betsy let out a throaty laugh. “And when were you one for idle gossip? I thought that was Abner’s department?”
Lottie shrugged, giving her an innocent look. “I like to help him out every so often when his scandal radar is on the blink, and a little idle gossip never hurts anyone.”
“I guess you’re right,” Betsy replied. “I don’t have much to say, truth be told, it was just a little something Yelma told me.”
“That’s Genevieve’s housekeeper, isn’t it?” Lottie asked.
“That’s her. We’re part of the same sewing circle and last Thursday, I mentioned to her that you were making the cake for the wedding and some of the confectionaries and such like, and that we were both excited about attending the big day and Yelma said not to get our hopes up too far in case Genevieve refused to host the event at the big house after all. She threatened Orlando that she was going to cancel it all.”
Lottie’s eyes widened. “Genevieve threatened Orlando? I can’t believe that. All Genevieve talks about is Orlando and I never once heard her raise her voice to him back in the day. He got away with murder when we were kids.”
“Well, according to Yelma, they had a big fight a few weeks back. He phoned her up asking for money.”
Lottie was even more surprised. “I’m not sure if I’m more shocked that he bothered to call her or that he wanted money. The last I heard, he was a big time investment broker in London.”
“Well big time broker or not, he phoned his grandmother up in need of money. Big money by all accounts. Yelma was tidying up the lounge and she heard Genevieve talking to him through the door of her study,” Betsy said.
“She couldn’t really hear much at first and Yelma’s not the type to eavesdrop, but Genevieve
had raised her voice so high at one point, it was nigh on impossible not to listen.
She was really laying into Orlando, telling him he was irresponsible and he had to take care of his own messes. Then she said there would be no wedding at Mayleaf if he didn’t get his act together.
“After that, either he rang off or she slammed down the phone, Yelma’s not sure, but Genevieve spent the rest of the afternoon in tears. Yelma told me all this in confidence which is why I didn’t say anything, but it looks like they patched up their differences or we wouldn’t be here now, and I can trust you to keep a secret.”
Lottie nodded and started the engine. “Sure you can, and when I spoke to Genevieve on the phone yesterday there didn’t seem to be any hint of a problem.”
“There you go then, not much in the way of gossip,” Betsy said. “But it seems to me he hasn’t changed a bit. You’re best to stay clear of him if you want my advice.”
“Don’t worry, I will,” Lottie said. “As I say, men are a no go area for me indefinitely.”
“Well you should maybe pick one up once in a while for a quick kiss and a cuddle.”
“Betsy! I’m shocked! I never knew you were such a vixen.”
“Don’t be telling Mr. Cromer, though then again it might wake him up a bit,” Betsy said with a hearty belly laugh.
Feeling better, Lottie set off through town and headed for the outskirts. After half an hour or so, they were on the curving coastal road leading up to Mayleaf Manor.
Lottie had the window down and had the radio tuned to the local station, and enjoyed the ocean breeze on her face and the hit singles being played during the station’s eighties hour.
Before long, the grey walls of Mayleaf Manor came into sight. It was a sprawling grand affair of a mansion, designed in the châteauesque style with peaked dark blue roofs and narrow windows. It had always reminded Lottie of a fairytale castle.
“Oh dear,” Betsy said as they drove through its iron wrought gates. “I didn’t think she’d be here yet.”
Donuts And Dead (Sleepy Fox Cafe Cozy Mystery Book 2) Page 2