Dimitri smiled but it was snuffed out by a harsh breath of a laugh. “Maybe she should. Especially after my boneheaded comment the other night. I don’t know what I was thinking, asking if she knew something. That was—” He stopped short and shook his head.
I squeezed his arm. “It’s in the past. You’ve moved past it, and you’ll get through this too. Once the funeral is over, your relatives and Lucinda’s friends will leave, and you and Alice can take a breath and regroup.”
And, I added silently, get back to planning your wedding.
Caleb’s presence went undetected by the guests through the service and reception that followed. I tried to keep my eyes off him, not wanting to draw attention—or, get caught staring—but it was hard to ignore him.
Especially when Harmony refused to stop talking about him.
“What are you going to do?” she whispered, as Caleb lingered over a tray of roasted root vegetables on the other side of the Vanguard’s ballroom.
I’d explained that the investigation had put a strain on our date, but she refused to drop it. “You have to at least try to talk to him,” she insisted.
I frowned at her. “I don’t have to do anything. The ball isn’t in my court.”
“Ugh!” She rolled her eyes. “This isn’t the Dark Ages, Stace. You’re allowed to ask a guy out. Or, in this case, since he already asked you out, you’re allowed to confirm the plans. I mean, come on. What if he’s the one?”
I laughed into my wine glass.
“What?” she fired back. “Is that really so ridiculous? You’re a wedding planner for crying out loud!”
“Shh!” I hissed. “We’re not supposed to be talking about this right now.”
“Why not? Is there a guide to funeral conversation rule book? If so, I don’t seem to have a copy.”
I drank deeply of my red wine and wondered what had possessed me to let Harmony tag along in the first place.
A tall, but stocky man in a navy suit jostled in beside us at the bar and asked for a whiskey on the rocks. I studied his profile for a moment, unable to place him. Was he one of Lucinda’s friends? I hadn’t studied all the faces in the crowd on the night of the rehearsal, but I would have remembered his. He had a wide nose, though it fit his other large features, including his thick shoulders and barrel chest. A scar marked his stubble-coated chin and there was a certain crookedness to the bridge of his nose that suggested he’d had it broken on at least one occasion.
The bartender handed the man a tumbler of whiskey, which he took without so much as a thank you. He turned, giving Harmony and me a quick glance, and then lifted his glass. “To Lucinda.”
Harmony’s glass was empty, but she lifted it anyway in respect. I followed suit.
The man slammed back the alcohol and offered the glass to the bartender, tapping the side. “Another.”
The bartender lifted the bottle to pour right as a heavyset man joined us at the bar, though judging by his walk, he’d already had a few too many. He bumped the stocky man beside us and the bartender’s pour went askew, sending a splash of whiskey onto the bar.
The stocky man cursed as he jumped back, looking down at his suit to check for stains. He turned on the man who’d bumped him, his face red. “Look at this!” he bellowed. “You idiot! You could have made me spill on this suit. Do you know how much this suit cost? More than a slob like you makes in a year, I’d bet!”
My eyes went wide and I looked to the bartender, hoping to find an ally.
“Whoa! Whoa. It’s not a problem,” Harmony said, garnering both men’s attention. “Allow me,” she said, wiggling her fingers at the pool of liquid. With a flourish, the whiskey lifted from the bar top, arched into a ribbon of amber and poured itself into the empty glass in her hand. She smiled and gave it a swirl before handing it to the bartender.
The heavyset man used her little display as a distraction and stumbled off in the other direction, toward the buffet. I caught Caleb’s eye and he cocked his head, and I took it as a silent offer of help. I held up a hand and he inclined his chin.
The bartender hurried to get the stocky man a fresh drink and apologized for the spill. The man wasn’t paying any attention to him though, he was staring at Harmony with an amused grin. “You some kind of witch?” he asked.
“Something like that,” she said with a giggle.
“I’m Connor,” the man said, offering her his meaty hand.
“Harmony,” she said, taking it.
Connor’s smile widened. “It’s a real pleasure.”
My trouble radar started blaring, and I narrowed my eyes at the man.
He didn’t appear to notice my threatening big-sister posture and leaned against the bar, casually sipping at his whiskey. “Were you a friend of Lucinda’s?”
Harmony shook her head. “I never met her. I’m here with my sister. She’s the wedding planner.”
Even as she mentioned me, she didn’t look over her shoulder or gesture at me. Apparently, I had all but vanished. I considered Connor with fresh skepticism. Was this really Harmony’s type? He looked like a washed-up Jersey Shore contestant in an expensive suit. If someone wrung out his hair, they could fill a kiddie pool with hair gel. That alone should serve as a giant, blinking Caution sign to any single woman.
But then, Harmony had always had a terrible radar for men. She’d run away from home at eighteen to go on the road with her backup dancer boyfriend, and when that went belly-up, she’d latched onto a grifter working part time in a potion shop. Since moving in with me, she’d agreed to focus on her work and future and had promised not to date anyone, but the way she was leaning in toward Hair Gel With Legs, I had to wonder if she’d been holding up her end of that particular clause of our agreement.
“Wedding planner, huh?” Connor licked his lips. “Guess she’s out of a job now, huh? I was just telling someone else I hope they had refundable deposits on everything. Lucinda was spending a fortune on the whole mess.”
“I think they’ll reschedule. You know, once some time has passed.” Harmony shrugged. “What about you? What’s your connection?”
Connor flashed a wicked smile. “I was Lucinda’s pool guy.”
I frowned. “This house doesn’t have a pool,” I interjected.
Connor gave me a wink. “Exactly.”
I reared back, halfway tempted to drag Harmony to the other side of the ballroom.
“I came to see Lucinda weekly for the last three years,” Connor continued, still grinning at Harmony. “Looking to take on new clients, you know, to fill her time slot. If you’re interested.”
This time, I did grab Harmony’s wrist. “We need to go check in with Francois.”
Harmony didn’t object, letting me lead her away from the bar. When we exited the ballroom, I released her and she burst out laughing. “Did we just meet a real life gigolo?”
I pressed my fist against my lips, fighting the urge to laugh. “I really don’t think I want to know the answer to that question.”
Harmony peeked over her shoulder, a silly grin on her face. “I’m so glad I didn’t stay home tonight.”
Chapter Ten
The reception following the funeral limped along for another hour before I noticed people starting to get antsy and check their watches and phones, looking for an excuse to wrap things up and leave. Dimitri and Alice stayed glued at the hip through the event and held court at their table, seeming to prefer guests approach them instead of working their way through the crowd. Agent McCord lingered, still wearing his enchanted disguise. Alice hadn’t given him so much as a second glance, at least as far as I’d seen. Dimitri’s eyes darted toward him a few times, but he looked away again before his fiancée could notice.
“How much longer do we have to stay?” Harmony asked. “It’s almost seven o’clock.”
I bobbed my head. “Soon. Let me check in with Dimitri.”
“I’m going to the ladies’ room,” she replied before draining her tumbler. She’d worked through th
ree—maybe four—vodka cranberry cocktails. I was surprised she cut a straight line as she left the ballroom. Give me two glasses of wine and my head starts getting fuzzy.
Right before I joined Dimitri and Alice, a woman stepped in front of me and began speaking with the couple. “How much longer are you going to make us wait?” she hissed, glancing at the pockets of guests scattered throughout the huge room. “It’s getting late. Her lawyer is here. Let’s just put everyone out of their misery already.”
I blinked. I had no idea who the woman was, but her pushy manner was off-putting, and I was tempted to swoop in and bail the couple out from under her harsh attention.
“As I said,” Dimitri began, his tone dry and clipped, “the reading will be at eight o’clock. If you don’t want to wait, then take your leave. I will phone you at the end of it to tell you what we both already know.”
The woman leaned in and though I couldn’t see her face, the sneer was evident in her own short tone. “I’m not going anywhere, and if I were you, I’d spend the meantime readjusting my expectations. Otherwise, I’d brace myself for a bitter disappointment.”
She swept away from the table, and I jumped back to keep from getting plowed over.
Dimitri swore loudly, and Alice shushed him before looking up and noticing me. She smiled as I approached their table. “Thanks again for being here, Anastasia. It really means a lot.”
I took the empty seat beside her. “Of course.” I looked at Dimitri and found his lips in a tensed line, a deep groove between his thick brows. I glanced over my shoulder, following his line of sight, and found him watching—glaring, more like it—at the woman who’d stepped in front of me. “Is everything okay?” I asked.
Dimitri sighed and dragged his attention to me. “My aunt is getting impatient waiting for my mother’s will to be read. That’s why everyone is still hanging around, picking over the buffet like a pack of vultures, as if I don’t know none of them actually eat anything.” He scoffed and shook his head. “Vultures is an apt description for the lot of them.”
I looked at the woman again. She’d joined a trio of other vampires and all four of them shot dark looks toward Dimitri. Quickly, I whipped back around, turning my back on them, though it felt somewhat vulnerable to do so. Generally speaking, turning your back on a pack of angry vamps was a bad idea. It just felt wrong.
“I don’t recognize her from the rehearsal dinner. Was she here?”
“Briefly,” Dimitri replied.
“She doesn’t approve of our marriage,” Alice interjected, looping one arm through Dimitri’s. “She refused to participate in any of the wedding stuff. But she was here, staying with Lucinda for the whole weekend.”
I frowned. “Why?”
“To try to change her mind about letting us go forward with the wedding,” Dimitri said. “She’s my mother’s older sister and thinks herself something of the matriarch now that their parents—my grandparents—are gone.”
I cringed, not wanting to ask how they’d passed on. Vampires were immortal but not invincible. The Vanguard House was one of the oldest clans of vampires, and while I didn’t know Dimitri’s exact lineage, there was a good chance his grandparents had been the root of the line of succession. The whole system was a little like a Medieval fealty system, with Barons, Lords and Ladies, and a whole host of underlings clamoring to rise through the ranks of the different courts.
“Rosalinda, my aunt, thinks her tactics worked. She claims that my mother called her lawyer here the night before the rehearsal and that she had her will changed to cut me from it, should I go through with the wedding.”
I sucked in a breath and felt my eyes go wide as I looked between Alice and Dimitri. Alice looked mildly annoyed, whereas Dimitri appeared downright murderous.
“Is it common to read the will the same night of the funeral?” I asked. It was certainly a new practice to me, but then, I’d never known anyone worth even a fraction of what Lucinda must have been.
Dimitri cocked his head. “Vampires don’t usually die,” he said.
I waited for him to elaborate, but he didn’t. Instead, he shoved up from the table and offered a gruff apology as he headed toward the bar.
Alice closed her eyes and took a beat. “He’s under a lot of pressure,” she said.
“I wish there was more I could do to help,” I told her. “Have you two talked about the wedding plans?”
I cringed even as the words left my lips, but if Alice was offended, she didn’t show it.
“He hasn’t brought it up,” she replied. “And I’m too afraid to say anything.”
“Afraid?” I repeated.
“That was the wrong word,” she hurried to say. “I just don’t want to burden him when he’s already so worried.”
“About the inheritance?” I asked.
Alice pursed her lips thoughtfully. “That, and this whole SPA investigation. Leave it to Lucinda to be even more of a pain in the ass after she’s dead.”
I flinched at Alice’s cold statement and a flicker of doubt shivered up my spine. I considered the young woman and wondered if there was some tiny chance that there was something to Agent McCord’s suspicion. Had she thought that getting rid of Lucinda was the only route to her and Dimitri’s happiness? I wouldn’t begrudge her the thought, but to actually act on it …?
I shoved the shadow-coated thought out of my head and looked around the room. “I imagine the reading of the will is family-only,” I said. “I’ll check with Francois in the kitchen and see if he needs help cleaning up. I’ll make sure we clear out before eight.”
Alice nodded absently. “Thanks again. I’ll call you when I know more about the wedding. That is … if there’s still a wedding to talk about.” She downed the rest of her drink and continued in a bitter, deadpan tone, “If Rosalinda turns out to be right, Dimitri won’t have a way to pay his rent, let alone fund a big wedding.”
Silently, I rose from the table and headed back to where Harmony stood, hugging the arched entry into the ballroom. She’d found another drink but appeared to be nursing it rather than throwing it back, which I took as a good sign.
“That didn’t look very happy,” she said.
I ran my teeth over my bottom lip. “Everyone’s just stressed.”
“The only one having fun is that gigolo guy,” Harmony noted before taking a sip.
I followed her gaze and saw the man—Connor, was it?—still at the bar where we’d left him. He was flanked by two gorgeous women who I vaguely recognized as Dimitri’s cousins. They were leaning in and smiling at whatever story Connor was weaving for them, gesturing wildly, a tumbler in one hand.
“Doesn’t look like he’s too worried about spilling on his fancy suit now, does it?” Harmony quipped. “If he was even telling the truth about that,” she added.
I tilted my head, considering the cut of the suit. “It looks high-end. Professionally tailored if nothing else.”
Harmony snorted into her drink. “He should call himself Lucinda’s banker or something. The “pool boy” routine wears a little thin when he’s wrapped in a custom suit.”
I nodded. The whole thing was bizarre. Why would Lucinda have ever needed a professional escort? She’d had it all—beauty, wealth, status, power. I had no doubt she could have snapped her fingers and had a long line of potential suitors, eager to wine and dine her. Though, the dining part probably looked a little different for vampires.
I shivered and pushed aside the thought, not wanting to dwell on it too long.
“Come on,” I said, nudging Harmony. “I want to check in with Francois and then we can leave. I’m ready to get home and get out of these heels.”
Harmony deposited her glass on a nearby table and we left the ballroom. Francois was in the kitchen, directing his two employees as they packaged up the leftover food. He glanced up at our entrance. “Clarissa said it looked like things were winding down,” he said.
I nodded. “The family is hanging behind because they’re p
lanning to read the will at eight o’clock. I think it might be best if we all clear out before then and give them their privacy.”
Francois didn’t object. “Would you like me to package up some of these leftovers for you?”
I smiled. “Do you really need to ask?”
He chuckled and started pulling together a care package for me and Harmony. “Any word on the wedding?”
My heart sank. “Not yet,” I said, not wanting to get into it with so many ears around. Though there wasn’t much to say anyway. The future seemed to hinge on the reading of the Lucinda’s will. Alice’s dark sentiment about Dimitri being left virtually penniless was still hanging over my head like a storm cloud, readying to shower down lighting at any moment.
Francois pursed his thin lips and continued working. Moments later, he handed both Harmony and me a large paper bag stuffed with foil covered take-out containers of the leftover food.
“Thanks, Francois,” I said, and Harmony echoed with her own thanks. “I’ll call you as soon as I know more about the wedding. And, uh, if you know anyone who’s looking for a wedding planner, pass them my card, will you?”
Francois raised an eyebrow at my request but didn’t question it. “Of course, Ana. I always do.”
“Thanks.” I smiled. “Take care.”
Harmony followed me from the kitchen and we made our way back through the huge mansion. The first floor was dark, only a handful of sconces lighting the long hallways. Our heels clicked as we rounded the corner and stepped onto the marble flooring of the foyer. A hush fell and I realized we’d interrupted the conversation of a trio of guests.
“Excuse us,” I said, offering a polite smile as we passed them.
Harmony scurried to keep up with me.
I glanced over my shoulder and saw the trio moving back toward the interior of the house.
As I turned back and reached for the door handle, a smooth, male voice pierced the silence the guests left behind, “Ahh, right when they were getting to the good stuff.”
Witchy Weddings: A Magic Witch Mystery Series: The complete Touch of Magic series Page 12