She had Betsy’s offer to donate jar candles from her shop. It was a start. Now she needed a few more items. She jotted down the hair salon, Liv’s family’s bakery, and the card shop. She was confident they’d donate because they all had adored her granny and, unlike her uncle, wanted Kelly to succeed. Once she had their donations, she’d budget to buy a few more small items to fill out the bags.
Satisfied she had everything under control for the event, she let herself relax a smidge and hummed along to the Christmas carol playing. The holiday spirit was slowly seeping back into her as she swayed to the music, and she belted out a few of the lyrics. Heck, she was alone, why not?
Her sing-along came to a screeching halt when the door opened.
Surprised by the unexpected visitor, Kelly fumbled to turn off the music and stood.
What on earth was he doing there?
Chapter Eleven
Hugh McNeil’s gaze appraised the sales floor before meeting Kelly’s. “Miss Quinn, what a lovely shop you have. Very charming.”
“Thank you. What brings you by?” She stepped out from behind the counter and crossed her arms over her chest. She hadn’t had the chance to speak to Hugh at length at her uncle’s party, but she knew the type of guy he was.
While living in the city, she’d had her run-ins with guys like him and guys who wanted to be like him—a successful television producer who was chauffeured around town during the week and the Hamptons on the weekends. A flash of a Rolex watch and a black credit card got guys like him far in New York’s social circles and up the ladder of success.
“No small talk. You’re direct. I like it.” He flashed his toothy, salesman-sleek smile as he unbuttoned his gray cashmere coat. At Bishop’s, Kelly wasn’t in the menswear buying office, but she’d had a lot of male colleagues and learned firsthand what fine-tailored men’s clothing looked like. She was looking at a perfect example, from Hugh’s outerwear right down to his polished leather loafers. Her uncle’s outerwear and footwear were expensive, but Hugh’s were off-the-charts big bucks. “I want you!”
“Excuse me?”
“For Long Island Ladies. You’d be a perfect addition to the show.” He stepped forward and raised his hands in a sweeping gesture. “A struggling young businesswoman selling used clothes from the wealthy to the middle class. Some type of fashionista Robin Hood. We can tweak the angle. It’ll be a breath of fresh air for the show.” When he finished his sales pitch, he froze in place and looked expectantly at Kelly.
Kelly wasn’t sure whether or not to be flattered. She didn’t see herself selling clothing from one class of people to another. She sold good-quality, pre-loved merchandise. Wait. What was she thinking? The offer wasn’t of any interest to her. She had no desire to be on television. Or to be part of the current LIL cast.
He lowered his arms, looking slightly dejected. He must have expected Kelly to fall all over him with gratitude for offering to make her a reality-television star.
“Come on. You’re not loving the idea? What’s not to love? I’ll make you a star. We’d have to spruce up this place for filming. I’ve got a name, and she’ll take care of the renovation for you.”
“Hold on there. I didn’t agree, and honestly, I don’t think the show is for me. But thanks for the offer.” It was nice to be asked, but his story-line idea didn’t appeal to her. He could peddle his pitch to some other shop owner.
“Honey, nobody can pass up television.” He cocked an eyebrow as his gray eyes shadowed over with a hint of anger. She guessed he wasn’t a man used to being told no. If so, he had a lot in common with her uncle.
“My name is Kelly, not honey.”
“I apologize. I didn’t mean to offend you. I call everyone honey.”
“I’m sure you do.” Oh, yeah, she definitely had his number. He was as slick as the thin coating of ice she’d almost slipped on when she was outside shoveling. “I appreciate the offer, but it’s not a good fit for me. I also don’t think I’d fit in with the other ladies.”
He waved away her concern. “That’s what makes the magic in reality television. Viewers love watching when there’s friction, differences between the cast members.”
“Friction? Is that why Janine had a restraining order placed on Diana?” Kelly watched Hugh’s response.
His head twitched, and his lips pressed tightly together. She sensed he was trying to check his temper.
He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out his leather gloves. “How did you find out about the restraining order?” His tone had hardened, and gone was the sales pitch.
“I thought everyone knew about it. Did Diana threaten Janine?”
He cleared his throat as he slipped on his gloves. “Consider my offer. It could make your little shop here famous.” He turned and walked out of the boutique.
Kelly dashed to the door and looked out. She spotted him approaching a Mercedes sedan. After opening the driver’s side door, he slid in behind the wheel. She was curious to why he didn’t comment on the restraining order, considering what he’d said about friction being good for the show. There had to be a heck of a lot of friction to warrant a restraining order.
What had gone down between those two women? And was it bad enough to lead to murder?
* * * *
“Oh, my gosh. How did you know I love beef stew?” Kelly licked her lips as she watched steam rise from the deep bowl of stew Ariel had placed in front of her. Along with the stew, there was a loaf of warm sourdough bread and softened butter. She made a mental note to have more lunches at Ariel’s house. To give the stew time to cool, she reached for the loaf and broke off two pieces, one for her and one for Ariel, and slathered butter on hers. She wished she could eat lunch like this every day. Before she popped a piece of bread into her mouth, she realized that lunching like a queen would mean going up a few sizes in her jeans. “You shouldn’t have gone to so much trouble. I usually get a wrap and a soda.”
“It wasn’t any trouble. I used my pressure cooker.” Ariel dunked her spoon into her stew.
Kelly looked up from her bread. “You used a pressure cooker? Granny tried cooking in one of those years ago. It wasn’t pretty.”
The centerpiece on the kitchen table was a wreath with a Santa carrying a red sack over his shoulder plopped in the middle. The decoration was jolly and simple and yet another reminder for Kelly to get moving on decorating the boutique.
Ariel laughed. “Those were scary. These days, pressure cookers are digital and safe. You can’t blow it up. But you can have stew in less than an hour. And what better meal for a day like today? Cold and snowy.” She scooped up a spoonful of the stew.
Kelly glanced out the window over the sink. Fluffy snowflakes were falling. According to the latest weather report, snow showers would happen on and off until late evening.
“Wow. I can’t believe it’s so fast. Maybe I should get one. I probably should cook more.”
“You are remodeling your kitchen.” Ariel reached for her water glass and sipped.
“Not really a remodel. The cabinets and countertops are staying. I’ve ordered a new stove and refrigerator. The new fridge is energy rated. It’ll save me a little money. And the stove—well, two of the burners didn’t work. I figured I might as well since I’m staying.”
Ariel reached out and patted Kelly’s arm. “I’m glad you are. I’ve missed you.”
“Same here. I’ve wanted to reach out so many times, but I was scared. I’m sorry.”
“No, don’t be sorry. I could have reached out too, but I was scared.” Ariel laughed again. “Look at us, two scaredy-cats.”
Kelly laughed. “I’m happy we’ve rebuilt our friendship.” They had a ways to go. Even though Ariel had insisted the accident wasn’t Kelly’s fault, Kelly still had carried a lot of guilt over the years, and shedding it wouldn’t be an easy task.
“This is a w
orking lunch. Let’s talk about all of my research, shall we?” Ariel navigated her wheelchair away from the table to the island; she reached up for the notepad and returned to the table.
Kelly caught a glimpse of all the notes scribbled on the pad. “You got a lot done. You’re like a research ninja.”
“I am, aren’t I? I love this stuff.” Ariel set the pad on the table and ate another spoonful of her stew.
“Guess there was a lot of information online about the show and cast.” Kelly took a bite of her bread.
“You’re right. The show and those ladies are very popular. I admit I’ve indulged in watching a few episodes. I guess you can call it my guilty pleasure.” Ariel laughed at her confession. “Back to business. There was a ton of stuff about them on Lulu Loves Long Island.”
The mention of the website almost wiped out Kelly’s appetite, but the stew smelled too delicious for that to happen. Lulu Loves Long Island tried to pass itself off as a one-stop resource center for all of the best cultural events on the island, but it was really a big gossip fest, with snarky innuendos and “gotcha” photographs leaving little to the imagination. Unfortunately, Kelly knew firsthand the damage the website could cause.
“Not surprising.”
“I know. There was an article about a month ago that Diana’s stepdaughter danced way into the wee hours of the morning in some nightclub.” Ariel slathered her slice of bread with a thick pat of butter.
“Diana has a stepdaughter?”
Ariel nodded, swallowing her bite of bread. “Beryl Delacourte. From Aaron’s first marriage. She’s been divorced three times and now runs an art gallery out in California. Anyway, does the name Patrice Garofalo mean anything to you?”
Kelly swallowed her spoonful of stew. She seriously needed a bigger spoon. And the recipe. “No. Should it? Who is she?”
“She was a production assistant on the show, and when the cast was down in Florida filming, she was arrested at the airport for cocaine possession.”
“Not exactly a smart move, huh?” Kelly dipped her spoon back into the stew and lifted out a chunk of meat and a carrot.
“Most criminals aren’t smart. We learned that last month, didn’t we?” Ariel was referring to the pseudo-brains behind the murders they both got tangled up in. “What caught my eye was the fact that Diana convinced the production company to pay for Patrice’s defense.”
Kelly set her spoon down and reached for her water glass. She sipped her water. “From my limited exposure to the cast and the producers, no one on LIL does anything out of the kindness of their hearts.”
“What could Diana have gotten out of helping Patrice, a production assistant?”
“Is Patrice still on the show?”
“No. According to the articles and blog posts I found, she went on leave during the trial and then quit. She still lives in Queens, though.” Ariel helped herself to another slice of bread and took a bite. “I found out through her social media that she’s a waitress and is back in school.”
“You were very thorough. Did you come across anything regarding Janine’s restraining order against Diana?”
“No. It looks like they kept it quiet. Which is hard to believe because it’s so juicy. Why not get some buzz out of it? It’s not like them to pass up a scandal.”
“Whatever happened, it seems no one wants to talk about it. Hugh clammed up.”
“The producer? When did you see him?”
Kelly shared the details about the unexpected visit from the producer as they finished lunch. While Kelly helped clean up, Ariel filled her in on the rest of the information she’d found about the show and its stars, but it wasn’t anything Kelly hadn’t already caught a whiff of—late-night partying, adultery, drinking, and over-the-top spending. The ladies weren’t shrinking violets; they were more like the cast from the Little Shop of Horrors. Which prompted Kelly to ask if Ariel wanted to do a girl’s night with movie and popcorn and invite Liv. Ariel loved the idea. She suggested they do it soon and watch White Christmas.
Kelly had been thinking more along the lines of a romantic comedy, not a Christmas movie. But not everyone was like her. Most people had Christmas on the brain. Glancing around Ariel’s kitchen, it was clear that she had Christmas on the brain in overdrive. Snowmen crammed every nook and cranny, and a wreath hung on the window; even the dishtowels were reindeer themed.
Before Kelly left, she took the bag of clothing Ariel wanted to consign. She’d get an estimate back to Ariel, and since the items were all in-season, they’d be displayed asap so Ariel could get some quick cash for holiday gift shopping.
Kelly gathered her coat and wristlet, along with the bag, and promised to set a date for movie night. She stepped out into the cold afternoon and tugged her parka’s collar closer to her face. She walked to her Jeep and, once inside, blasted the heat for her drive back to the boutique.
At the boutique, Kelly hung up her parka and dropped her wristlet on the desk before making her way out of the staff room to the sales counter, where she set down the bag of Ariel’s items. She’d sort through them later. Breena finished up with a customer, a woman Kelly had seen in the boutique before. A little zing of happiness had her smiling. Repeat customers. She loved it.
“Oh, hey, glad you’re back.” Breena stepped away from the counter after the customer exited the boutique. “Pepper went home. She looked bad. Really bad. Like maybe she needed to go to the hospital bad.”
Kelly had learned that Breena had a flair for the dramatic. Once an actress, always an actress. Because of that, Kelly was cautious to jump to the worst-case scenario. She’d call Pepper and find out how ill she was. She blew out an aggravated breath. If she hadn’t been at Ariel’s house getting the lowdown on the cast of LIL, she’d have been there to see firsthand how sick Pepper was. But no. She was meddling into a police investigation yet again.
“Hey, Kelly, did you hear me? Pepper left sick.”
“I heard you. I’ll call her.” Kelly turned and went back to the staff room. She’d just unzipped her wristlet to pull out her phone when it buzzed.
“Hello, Summer.” Kelly sat on the chair and tapped on the speakerphone command. With her phone set on the desk, she sorted through the day’s mail. Bills, invoices, junk mail.
“I can’t believe you’d do something so underhanded. What have I done to you to make you want to hurt me?”
Kelly stopped sorting the mail. Summer’s accusatory tone hit her like a slap. “What are you talking about?”
“Don’t play dumb with me.”
Kelly leaned back and shook her head. She’d lay money on Hugh being the source of Summer’s meltdown. What was he thinking?
“Why does Hugh want me to convince you to be on the show?”
Kelly groaned. “I have no idea.”
“You know exactly what you did. The show is mine. Not yours!”
“The show isn’t like a toy you can claim and run off with.”
“Don’t lecture me.”
“I’m not. And you know what else? I’m not having this conversation with you. It’s absurd.”
“You joining the cast would be a nightmare.”
“I couldn’t agree more. Give my love to Juniper.” Kelly tapped the end call button and tossed her phone down. What was Hugh up to? Going to Summer and asking her to work Kelly into submission? Dragging Summer into the fray wasn’t winning him any points with Kelly. She’d already told him no, and now she was even more emphatic about her decision.
She took a deep inhale and then exhaled, releasing the tension between her shoulder blades. Another inhale and exhale, and more tension released. She shut her eyes and remained silent for a moment to regroup. She hadn’t been a fan of meditation—actually, she wasn’t even sure if what she was doing counted as meditation, but she needed something to clear her mind. She took a few more deep breaths, and clarity surf
aced.
She opened her eyes and reached for her phone. She wanted to check in on Pepper, and then she’d tackle the one thing, besides Diana’s murder, that had been dogging her.
Her conversation with Pepper lessened her fears. Pepper wasn’t in need of a hospital. She needed rest and a dose of the cold medicine she’d hesitated to take because she was driving. She assured Kelly she wasn’t on death’s doorstep and would take tomorrow off. Relieved, Kelly ended the call and set out to add some holiday cheer to the boutique.
The bins of decorations had been pulled out of the storeroom and waited to be opened. She lifted the cover of the plastic bin and pulled out a nutcracker. Her finger traced the outline of the wood figure. In the ballet, the nutcracker was transformed into a handsome prince. No one knew for sure if it was a dream or if the magic of Christmas had come to life for Clara. Either way, it was one night for Clara and her prince. Much like Kelly’s one night with Mark.
Oh, how silly her thoughts were getting. She was acting like a lovelorn teenage girl. Now wasn’t the time to swoon over some guy. Swoon? Who said that word anymore? With a shake of her head, she set the nutcracker back into the bin with the other nutcrackers her granny had collected. She replaced the lid and carried the bin out to the front of the boutique. It was time to get to work.
Breena clapped her hands with excitement when she saw Kelly appear with the decorations. She played holiday tunes on her phone and joined in with the decorating.
While the nutcrackers weren’t Kelly’s thing, she wanted to honor her granny and lined them up on the fireplace mantels in the two front rooms. Once the nutcrackers were in place, she tucked in greenery. There were swags and ribbon in the bins. Her granny had draped the swags along the mantels and then added ribbon and finished with a layer of ornaments. She’d have to find that bin next.
While decorating, a few customers came in and complimented Kelly on the progress so far. Encouraged by the kind words, she and Breena finished the mantels with the three-foot nutcrackers on either side of the hearths and hung an artificial wreath over each fireplace. When all the decorating was done, she had four empty bins, and she decided to visit Patrice Garofalo.
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