I stayed until the last guest left to close out the party and go over Marion’s hostess gifts and earned rewards. Like usual, Marion received all the bonuses and was even entered in the Grand Beach Getaway contest. Now that was something I’d like to win, an all-expense paid vacation at the beach, preferably without a dead body.
“So, I think that’s it. Tonight went pretty well, didn’t it?” I said.
“I think so.” Marion was getting ready to put on a pot of tea. She reminded me of my mother in this regard.
“You had some new faces here too. I talked to Mrs. McGovern. She seemed nice…”
“Oh, Caroline? She’s something all right. I’ve known her and her late husband, Bob, for years.”
“Oh yeah, she mentioned something about him and politics.”
“Did she now?” Marion rolled her eyes and shook her head.
“What? What’s that all about. You have to tell me now.”
“It’s just that Bob was a bit of a schmoozer. Thought of himself as a smooth talker. About the only thing he couldn’t talk himself into was office.”
“What did he run for?”
“Bob thought he was headed to Washington. Congress, I believe. When that didn’t pan out, he set his sights on running Port Haven.”
“Ah, like Whip. I get it now.”
“Exactly. It was a pretty heated race. You know how nasty politics can be. I don’t have to tell you how it ended.”
“Who was he running against?”
“Oh, Humphrey Potts, of course. Those two ridiculous men ended up hating each other until the day Bob died.” Marion shook her head. “And Humphrey’s has been our mayor ever since. Don’t think he’s had a serious contender either. Well, not unless you count Whip now.”
So, Whip had a family vendetta against Mayor Potts? Sounded as good as any motive to me.
And maybe he killed off Paulette to dig the knife a little deeper. I wasn’t sure how if all fit together, but I was determined to figure it out.
I looked at the clock as I pulled out of Marion’s driveway and headed to meet Aria. It seemed much later than eight thirty.
I nabbed a couple extra mini cheesecakes and chocolate-covered strawberries for tonight’s mission before leaving the party. That was as healthy of an option Aria was going to get. Aria met me in the parking lot of the Piggly Wiggly. I texted her beforehand to be on the lookout for my parents’ Enclave.
“What’s the game plan?” Aria said when she got in. She was dressed in dark-print leggings with a black t-shirt. I looked down at my bright blue skinny jeans and off-the-shoulder white shirt. I did not think this through.
“Look in the bag,” Aria said. I did and noticed she had thrown in a similar dark-hued outfit for me. This is why she was my best friend.
I climbed in the back and did a quick wardrobe change. While I did, I said, “I figured we’d swing by Justine’s place and see if she’s in. If not, we’ll take a little lookie-loo inside and see if we spot anything suspicious.”
“Like a bunch of poison ivy plants growing on her kitchen table?”
“Exactly. We just need to keep an eye out for Withers.”
“Who’s that? New dog?”
“Ha, no. Apparently, he’s her butler.” Aria gave me the look. “I know. Either that, or it’s some new fetish. I’m not sure which.”
We pulled in front of Justine’s house just in time to see a black Porsche pull away. Even without a few choice words etched into the side, I’d recognize that car anywhere. The question was, where were Justine and Todd headed?
We skipped snooping and followed them instead.
Ariana and I hung back, doing our best PI impersonation, and followed the two of them as they merged onto the highway. Traffic was light, but I wasn’t worried. It was starting to finally get dark and I was confident neither of them would recognize my dad’s car.
They bypassed the strip clubs that cluttered the highway along the way, which honestly was a bit of a surprise. I wouldn’t put it past Justine to suggest a stop off until I remembered who she was with; Todd, Mr. Vanilla.
We crossed into Georgia and could see Savannah in the distance. By the time we got off on Oglethorpe Avenue, I had a hunch of where they were headed. When they turned left onto Martin Luther King Jr. Boulevard and we got the light, I wasn’t worried.
“Shoot, we’re gonna lose them,” Aria said.
“No, we won’t.” We turned left onto West Broughton and right on Montgomery, coming to Congress just in time to see Todd park in front of O Sole Mio. The Italian restaurant had been a favorite of his and was the very spot where he had proposed to me. I shuddered, recalling his horrible speech about not getting any younger, so we might as well… I should’ve stopped him right there, but man, that ring was blinding.
“Isn’t that where…” Aria asked. I nodded. “Oh vomit.”
“Right? Glad to see he’s trying something new.”
“You feel up for some calamari?” Aria asked.
“Not hardly. Let’s hang back. I don’t want them to see us. But don’t worry, I brought dessert.”
A little over two hours later, the mini cheesecakes and strawberries had been long since consumed, and Aria snored peacefully next to me, giving me some time to think.
Here was the thing. I wasn’t mad at Justine for dating Todd. She could have him. In some sick-twisted way, they were perfect for one another. The problem was, I couldn’t help but think this was more than a budding relationship. Throw in their mutual hatred for me, someone sabotaging my business, and Justine’s mysterious rash, and it was highly suspect. It couldn’t just be a coincidence. Now I needed to think of how to proceed. I know I told Aria that I didn’t want them to see us, but a big part of me wanted to confront them, to make a big scene and call them both out on all their crap. The only hitch was, once again, I didn’t have any proof.
I took a long calming breath and wished I still had some cheesecake.
It wasn’t easy, but eventually I decided I would try to be an adult and attempt to gather some evidence instead of acting like a psycho. Trust me, it was a challenge. I liked to think of it as character growth.
I nudged Aria awake when Justine and Todd walked hand-in-hand out of the restaurant. Under the canopy of the restaurant, while a soft rain started to fall, Todd reached his hand up behind Justine’s cheese-doodle hair and went in for a kiss.
“Oh gross, you woke me up for this?”
I felt the same way.
16
Aria called me first thing Wednesday morning. It was early, too early, but I would forgive her. The bridal salon still hadn’t found her dress and she was in panic mode. T-minus three days until her nuptials, and she needed a dress.
“I know you’re super busy, but I have a huge favor. Can you come to Atlanta with me today?” she asked.
No, no I cannot. I could not afford to lose a day right now, not with the rebranding of Sugar & Sass and trying to solve a crime; I had plenty that needed my attention in Port Haven. I got a small headache just thinking about it all.
I could hear Christina in the background, “Told you she was too busy. Why did you even call her? We don’t need her to come with us.”
Christina’s bratty attitude had me doing a one-eighty. “What time are we leaving?”
Super big shout out to Vince’s grandma, Inez, for watching Captain Jack, and on such short notice. All Aria had to tell her was that it was a dress emergency and she was more than happy to watch the little guy, even if it was potentially overnight. It was an eight-hour roundtrip to Atlanta and back. I had a feeling it was going to be a very long day. Especially when I climbed into the backseat of Christina’s Lexus and saw an itinerary laid out for me. We had a twelve o’clock appointment at the bridal salon, followed by manicures and pedicures at Posh, and dinner reservations at “The Club,” which I assumed was Christina’s family’s country club. Christina eyed my outfit. I had worn a pair of leggings with a flowy shirt, ballet flats, and oversized s
hades, going for comfort with a little style. Christina was dressed head to toe in white, with a white summer suit and heels. She had even woven a white ribbon into a braid that circled her head like a tiara. Personally, I thought she looked tacky. If anyone should be decked out in white it was the bride-to-be, not that Aria would ever dress like that. Like I said, white was not her favorite color.
“I suppose we could try to get in a little shopping so you can find something a little bit … nicer for dinner,” Christina said to me in her rearview mirror.
“Don’t worry, I brought a change of clothes,” I said with a wink. I knew Christina well enough to know we wouldn’t be eating dinner at a chain restaurant.
“What was that?” Aria asked, looking up from putting directions in the car’s GPS.
“Nothing, let’s roll,” I said, kicking my feet up across the backseat. Christina scowled. I smiled in return.
The drive to Atlanta was long. Excruciatingly long, listening to Christina talk about her latest traveling adventures (You’ve never been to Switzerland?!) and the book she was writing as a result. “It’s going to be a best seller, you just watch!” she exclaimed at one point. After she exhausted that topic, she moved on to discussing her latest investment opportunity. Christina had gotten into real estate, courtesy of Aria’s uncle’s financial backing, and you’d think she was the next Donald Trump the way she went on about her real estate holdings. I feigned sleep for most of it, so I didn’t have to contribute much, but that didn’t stop me from having to listen.
“I told them no. I wouldn’t settle for less than five million. The name alone is worth at least that.” Yada, yada, yada… She went on dropping this figure and that one. I had found that people who talked a lot about money didn’t have as much as they wanted you to believe. It’s the quiet ones driving the Lexuses who had it made, not the braggity-brag Christinas of the world.
We made it to the upscale bridal salon ten minutes before our appointment. Christina swung open the door and held it for Aria as if she were royalty. Me? I ran in front of them in search of a bathroom. I really had to pee and Christina had refused to stop saying, “I don’t need to remind you that we’re on a mission, ladies.” Heaven forbid we were two minutes late. Christina even snapped at Aria when she agreed that stopping was a good idea. “If you didn’t want to spend all day in the car, then we should’ve chartered a jet, or even Vince’s helicopter would’ve worked.” Aria reminded Christina that she was trying to not stress out Vince and that he might’ve needed the helicopter for business. “Then quit asking me when we’re going to stop. We’ll stop when we get there!” Geez Louise. Christina was ridiculous.
I joined them a few minutes later, sitting on the soft gray couch outside Aria’s fitting room, while Christina bossed the consultant, Mallory, around.
“No, that’s not one of the dresses I requested. The bodice should be cut like this,” she ordered, demonstrating by making a V on her neckline. “This one is all wrong.”
“I’m sorry. This is the style number listed in your email,” Mallory said.
“I don’t care, it’s not the right one.” Christina brought up the dress she had wanted to see on her phone and showed it to the girl. “This one,” she pointed to her screen, “not that one,” and pointed to the dress on the rack. “See the difference?” Here we were, less than ten minutes into the appointment and the consultant was already being abused.
“I’m sure whatever you selected is great,” I told Mallory while eying Christina as if to say, “Knock it off, psycho.”
Christina rolled her eyes. “I can’t handle this. I’ll go find it.” She walked away, dismissing both of us.
“Sorry about that. She’s a bit of a perfectionist.” Total control freak was more like it, but I was being polite. “Don’t worry though, I’ve got your back. I’ll keep her in check.”
“Thanks, you have no idea how it can get,” Mallory replied.
“Oh, I’ve watched enough reality TV to get the idea.”
Aria came out in the first gown. Her scrunched-up face told it all. “Yeah, no,” I said before she even got up on the pedestal.
Christina rushed right over. “But, look at the beading. The train. It’s gorgeous,” she insisted. The beading was ugly, the train way too long, and if by gorgeous she meant Aria looked like a marshmallow, then yeah, I could agree with her.
“Next!” I shouted. Aria smiled. I told myself that I would be as honest as possible while still being supportive. The goal was not to just get any dress, but one that Aria would love. I was there to make sure the second dress was even better than the first.
While Aria changed into another gown, I got up and peeked at the rest of the lineup Christina had personally selected. They all looked the same. All beaded, all fluffy, all white. All entirely wrong. This was going to be a disaster.
I walked over and knocked on Aria’s door. “Hey girl, do you mind if I go pick out a few?”
Aria stuck her head out. She had on another ball gown, this one with so much tulle it was like a tutu on steroids. Aria blew her bangs out of her face. “Please do.”
“Okay, give me a couple minutes. Be right back.” My mission was clear. I pulled Mallory aside and asked her to show me something off the rack with color. That would be a start.
Mallory lead me to exactly what I was looking for. I found Aria’s dress in a heartbeat. The form-fitting Marchesa mermaid gown was rose gold perfection with its gold embellishments laid over a blush dress and layer upon layer of soft, pleated tulle. Can you say dreamy? That dress was tulle done right. I had no doubt that Aria would look stunning in it. If I were getting married, that would be my dress. Aria would love it.
The moment she walked out of that fitting room wearing my pick, I knew I’d been right.
“I absolutely love it.” Aria looked at herself in the mirror and was seriously glowing. Her frazzled nerves and blotchy complexion were totally calm. Aria was the happiest I had seen her in a long time. Looking at her made me happy. I thought for a second that she might even cry and, for once in my life, I was totally okay with it, if that tells you anything. The only person who wasn’t feeling it was Christina.
“But it’s pink!” she exclaimed as Aria said yes to the dress.
“Rose gold,” I corrected her.
“I thought you wanted white?” she asked Aria, completely bewildered.
“Aria hates white.” I said in a matter-of-fact voice. “Come on, let’s go. Don’t we have a manicure or shopping to do?”
Christina wasn’t giving up that easily and begged Aria to try on a couple more dresses, “just to be sure,” but Aria wasn’t having it. She had found the one. “You should be happy,” she was telling her, “I found my dress. Your plan worked, so thank you.”
Christina perked up a bit at that and said in a smug voice, “Of course. After all, this whole day was my idea.” I rolled my eyes hard at that one.
I treated Aria for her mani and pedi. I had been wanting to get her that gift certificate to the spa, which hadn’t happened yet. This was the least I could do. The afternoon pampering session was heavenly, because I was in a separate room from Christina. Every now and then I could hear her say something along the lines of, “Well I know that when I was in Europe…” or “Real estate development is exhausting work. It’s not easy counting millions!” I felt so sorry for her massage therapist. I’m not sure how much Christina tipped her, but it wasn’t enough.
After the spa, I had been right: dinner was at the Rolling Hills Country Club, which was part of Aria’s uncle’s plantation. Christina had spent summers there playing tennis and lounging by the pool while Aria worked as a life guard and beer girl. It was one of those rich brother, poor brother scenarios, with Aria’s father being the poor one. No one could argue that Aria hadn’t worked hard to elevate herself, regardless of how well she had married. She was already somebody before she and her first husband, Raja, said, “I do.”
“Christopher, so good to see you,” Ch
ristina said to the manager while we waited to be seated. Christopher was completely attentive to Christina, which she just ate up. Not saying he wasn’t a nice guy, but I highly doubted he cared what Christina’s summer travel plans were, especially to the extent Christina went on. Christopher’s job looked exhausting.
The host came back and led us to our table.
The Club’s dining room boasted dark woods, gold chandeliers, and burgundy carpeting. It was rich, and dark, and totally not my style. Give me natural light and bright whites any day.
A gold menu card had been placed at each place setting. I took a closer look and saw that Christina had arranged for a six-course meal to be served, highlights of which included gruyere and parmesan beignets, lobster bisque, arugula salad, prime rib, a cheese plate and chocolate mousse.
“My treat,” Christina said, pleased as punch at my shocked expression, but she had read my expression all wrong. This dinner was just the sort of thing I expected from her. It was the chocolate mousse that had me wide-eyed. Maybe we could skip to the dessert course first?
It was close to nine PM by the time dinner was wrapping up. Once again, I was grateful to Inez for taking Captain Jack. No way my mom would’ve let him spend the night, well, not without giving me an earful first.
I was licking the back of my spoon, eyeing up Aria’s mousse, wondering if she was going to eat it all, when a guy came over and tapped Aria on the shoulder.
“Oh, my goodness, Mike? How are you?”
Mike, who the heck is Mike? I thought to myself.
“I haven’t seen you since what, college graduation?” Aria was saying.
Oh, my goodness, that Mike. As in the guy who broke my bestie’s heart in college and who also stopped by my booth this past week at the farmers market. He had been the guy I hadn’t been able to place. He looked so much more, I don’t know, mature since the last time I saw him. Aria and Mike had been high school sweethearts turned college lovers, and it all went down in dramatic fashion when he called it quits. Aria and I had seen each other through a lot of different relationships and that breakup was brutal for her. I tried to help her find comfort in Ben & Jerry’s but, even then, she turned to meditation and yoga.
Kiss & Makeup: Beauty Secrets Mystery Book 2 Page 11