Runways and High Heels and Murder

by Patti Larsen

  For the first time I knew I’d found exactly who I was meant to spend my life with. And, from the way Crew reciprocated my feelings, he felt the same way.

  I hated to leave him as he dropped me off, spending a long, delicious moment enjoying his lips and his hand pressed to the back of my neck, holding me against him while I embraced the tingling delight of endorphins and hormones taking me over and drifted in the joy that was the delicious man kissing me.

  When we parted we were both a bit breathless. Okay, I was really breathless and rather giggly. Crew grinned, slipping off his sunglasses to meet my eyes with his brilliant blues. “I love you,” he whispered. “Fiona Fleming, I love you so much.”

  Gasp, choke, inhale. “I love you, too.” Take a hike, tears. I kissed him again, softer this time. “I’ll see you tonight.”

  “I’ll be waiting.” He replaced his glasses and sat back, and it was the hardest thing I’d ever done in my entire life to unbuckle my seatbelt, open the door and slip out onto the sidewalk, to close the door and wave and stand there, watching as he waved back and drove away.

  Floating on a cloud of the faint, lingering scent of him and the memory of his lips on mine, I bounded up the steps into Petunia’s.

  A quick shower and change followed by some of Mom’s delicious soup for lunch and I was ready for the influx of guests, namely Vivian’s designer friend. Even her uptight warning wasn’t enough to diffuse the lasting effect Crew’s kisses had on me and when the front door opened and the foyer flooded with people.

  Daisy joined me instantly, her pretty flowered dress her signature, gorgeous dark blonde curls cascading around her. I let her charismatic charm take the lead, staying behind the counter and doing the computer work while she guided the staff to efficiently shift guests from the entry to their rooms. I’d never seen so many stunning young men and women all in one place before, though the lot of them really needed a hamburger, some of them so thin I winced.

  As the last of them vanished into the depths of the back yard on their way to the annex, Daisy sighed. “And that’s just the assistants and some of the staff,” she said, shaking her head, obviously thinking the same thing I was and voicing it like we’d had this conversation going already. Besties. Gotta love them. “It’s a hard industry, Fee. I don’t envy them. Imagine your whole life hinging on how you look and your age?”

  Ack, no thanks. I didn’t get to comment as much, though, not when the door opened one last time and Vivian entered, a tall, slender woman following close behind her.

  I was prepared for the worst, naturally. While not exactly rude, the other guests hadn’t really been friendly. Which meant Vivian’s designer friend was going to be a pain-in-my-rear diva, right? I forced a smile on my face as the Queen of Wheat stepped aside and Grace Fiore fixed me with a beaming smile so open and kind I almost stuttered.

  “Miss Fleming.” She hurried toward me, hands outstretched, and captured mine between hers, tugging me closer. I wasn’t short by any means at 5’7”, but Grace’s near six feet coupled with the high heels she wore made me feel positively squat. Not to mention the fact the woman was as slender as a pole, her thin hands strong despite her petite frame. She reminded me of Willow’s surprising strength inside such a delicately packaged person, though Grace’s impressive height made her seem ethereal and exotic. With full lips glossed with pale pink lipstick and cheekbones that arched under her light green eyes, her tightly bound black hair reminded me of a ballerina preparing for a show. “How delightful to meet you at last. I’m so grateful for your hospitality. And such a lovely residence you have here.” Her voice, low and soft, had a faint accent, as if she’d spent a lot of time in Europe and picked up the barest trace of foreign influence. “You’re so kind to let us take over your business. I always prefer to stay off-venue if possible and you’ve made my wish come true.”

  Okay, wow, I hadn’t been expecting this at all. While my mind sought out and didn’t find a hint of deception, forced to acknowledge nothing about her was disingenuous, I caught my breath and smiled back, knowing I had to be a bit wide-eyed from shock and fighting to recover my professionalism. While wondering if she thought I was fangirling. Which, honestly, I kind of was all of a sudden. Not because she was a famous designer. But because I actually loved her instantly.

  “I’m so happy you’re here,” I said, knowing that came out weird and likely awkward but hoped it might be endearing.

  She laughed and hugged me, letting me go finally, though one hand lingered, holding mine like we were old friends while she smiled at Vivian. “This is perfect, Viv,” she murmured, squeezing my fingers. “Just perfect. Thank you, darling. You always come through for me.” She pressed her lips to Vivian’s cheek as the Queen of Wheat smiled back, flushing faintly.

  “Anything I can do, Grace,” she said. In a tone of voice that made me start. Because she sounded young and sweet and nice and seriously. Like a real person. “Anything at all. You know that.” Vivian caught my gaze and flinched ever so faintly as if recognizing I was seeing her soft underbelly at last. “Fiona will take excellent care of you.” Ah, there was the commanding tone again. Nice to know she hadn’t completely lost her edge.

  Grace didn’t seem to notice, still holding my hand. “I’m so jealous,” she said, looking back and forth between the two of us with a smile so sweet and lovely I couldn’t keep from smiling back. “I wish I lived here, too. How amazing you two awesome women get to spend all this time together.” She sighed softly, free hand hooking through Vivian’s arm and pulling her close so the three of us stood like we were sisters. “I need more of what you two have in my life.”

  Um. What had Vivian been telling her about me? From the way the blonde refused to meet my gaze, either she hadn’t been telling Grace everything or the designer was jumping to conclusions and Vivian didn’t have the heart to tell her otherwise.

  Someone cleared their throat and I looked past Grace’s slim shoulder toward the young woman waiting behind her. Thick, black rims framed her angular face, dark brown eyes watching from behind the lenses. Her blunt, black bob and abrupt but perfect bangs felt about as haute couture as could be, as did her asymmetrical dress and huge jewelry. She clutched a tablet to her thin chest which she glanced down at when Grace turned to face her.

  “Yes, Libby.” She seemed amused by the young woman’s serious attitude, indulgent as she released Vivian and touched the girl’s cheek like she was a small child instead of obviously her assistant.

  Libby rolled her eyes. “I take it we have a room to go to?”

  Vivian’s scowl was instant though Grace laughed and let me go at last to hug Libby who sighed but hugged her back.

  “Allow me.” Daisy grinned at me while, still in a bit of a daze, I nodded and stepped away. “You’re in the annex, Ms. Fiore, Miss Kim.”

  “Grace, darling, please.” She seemed to notice Daisy for the first time, eyebrows shooting into her hair. “My goodness, you’re stunning, my dear.”

  Was that a flash of jealousy on Vivian’s face? Meanwhile, my best friend flushed and giggled.

  “Thank you.” She gestured for the kitchen door. “Right this way.”

  Grace paused to lean in and kiss my cheek, her lips cool and soft. “Let’s find time for a drink,” she said. “I so need strong women in my life.” And, with that, she followed Daisy, her assistant trailing after her, Libby’s dark gaze scanning me like she was taking my measure before disappearing with her boss through the swinging door.

  Leaving me alone with Vivian. Who caught my eyes, her own open and honest for the first time ever, showing me her aching longing for something I couldn’t understand. And then, just like that, she shut down, backing away, jaw tightening before she nodded in a sharp up down of her chin.

  “Make sure Grace has everything she needs.” With that, Vivian spun and left, while I stared after her with more questions than ever before.

  ***

  Chapter Five

  I drifted into the kitchen an
d found Daisy returning, joining her and Mom at the counter while my mother worked on a list of needs for the catering job she’d hooked me into.

  “I’m so glad you volunteered,” Mom said before I could change my mind and tell her she was on her own after all. Not that I would. Maybe if Grace had turned out to be a jerk. But I found myself warming up to the task while Daisy leaned in to look at Mom’s list. “Maybe this will finally put an end to the silly animosity between you and Vivian.”

  Grunt. Though, the visceral reaction I had to Mom’s words had no real weight. She was right. Vivian and I were grown women, for goodness sake. It wasn’t like she’d done anything to me that warranted the kind of lingering dislike I’d carried with me my whole life. Even in school, after our initial fight that led to her nose being broken, Vivian had avoided me rather than any actual out and out bullying. If I was going to be completely honest, I was being childish about the whole thing.

  Blah. Accepting I was a grownup sucked.

  Daisy’s little grin had a wicked edge. “I think Fee disagrees.”

  Mom tsked at me, her frown enough disappointed teacher I relented. “You need to let go of the past, Fiona,” she said. “You’re missing out on a great opportunity, both of you.” She patted my hand, nodded to Daisy. “All three of you. Vivian isn’t the devil, girls. She’s a powerful, driven, wonderful woman doing her very best, just like we are. She’s had no support in this town, had to do everything herself. If anything, she’s met with more resistance than we could ever imagine.” I didn’t know that and had a guilty moment of recalling Crew’s troubles with the town comparing him to Dad, how a lot of things went on behind the scenes I had no idea about. Had Vivian faced the same kind of conflict when she’d taken over her family’s business? “If you just took a moment and saw things from her perspective, I think you’d actually like her, Fee.”

  Eep. Mom was right and yet. The Patterson question loomed. Instead of arguing, I turned with gratitude at the sound of the bell as someone arrived in the foyer. I hurried to my new guest, mulling over Mom’s words while smiling my professional best at yet another thin, tall woman here to take over my B&B. Except, instead of looking calm and confident, this one seemed nervous, or at least secretive as she slipped her huge sunglasses free from her eyes, faint dark circles under the pale blue of her slightly sunken gaze. Her cheekbones stood out so prominently I wondered when she’d eaten a solid meal last, her dark hair tucked under a scarf.

  “Noel Lewder,” she said, voice breathy and slightly nasal. “I have a reservation.”

  “Nice to meet you.” I offered my hand which she hesitated to shake, her grip almost non-existent when she did a quick up and down before jerking her fingers from mine. “Fiona Fleming, your host. I have you booked in upstairs here at Petunia’s. Can we help with your bag?”

  Noel shook her head, a lock of glossy hair falling free of her scarf. She might have been bone thin but she really was beautiful, in a waif-like, vulnerable way, her pale skin flawless, lips so full they seemed to dominate the lower half of her face. “I’m fine, thank you.”

  “The other models are staying at the lodge,” I said. “Are you sure you’d rather be here? We can arrange it if you’d like to be closer to the show.”

  The flash of rage that crossed her face actually took me aback, one hand pressing to my heart. Noel recovered visibly from her reaction, but her voice was cold when she answered.

  “I’m not a model,” she snapped, taking her key from my hand and turning toward the stairs. “And I’ll ask you to mind your own business.”

  Wow. So I’d been expecting divas, and looked like I’d finally found one. Though her insistence she wasn’t a model was clearly a lie. Or, maybe she was a wannabe? Maybe she had been one and wasn’t anymore? Whatever. I let her go, shrugging off her reaction, hearing the painful thud of her suitcase up the steps and wishing I could just carry the damned thing for her so she wouldn’t hit every single stair so thoroughly.

  Well, I couldn’t expect everyone to be like Grace, I suppose. And if Noel was the only mean girl in the lot, I’d take it. I finished logging her into the computer as the door swept open one more time. I plastered on another smile, ready to face down whatever came my way, and stopped, startled, staring, smile forgotten, at the sight of the familiar young woman standing in my foyer.

  Mila Martin smiled back at me, huge eyes wide and glossy behind the shine of her glasses, acne still in full blossom on her round cheeks, the brown cardigan, calf-length skirt and comfortable looking shoes doing little to improve her appearance. Neither did the thin, brown ponytail she wore. But wait a second, hadn’t I just chastised myself for being shallow about appearances with Alice Moore? And here I was doing the same for the young woman in my foyer. I hadn’t seen her in two years, not since the death of Skip Anderson. She’d been stalking Willow Pink at the time, one of those super fans who had crossed over the line from adoration to creepiness and from what I’d heard she’d run into issues with the law because of her behavior. She was the last person I’d expected to find at Petunia’s, and I had a flash of curiosity and then concern that maybe she’d attached to someone new.

  Please, don’t let it be Grace. Vivian would lose her mind.

  “Fee.” Mila hurried toward me in lurching delight, hugging me like we were old friends. I hugged her back, feeling her trembling when I released her, and took in the dark circles under her big eyes, the thinness of her body. She hadn’t been a big woman to begin with, but she seemed to have shrunk, gaze burning with internal fire that kept her going when maybe she should have been somewhere she could lie down for a while.

  “Mila.” I tried a smile and felt the million watts of her returning grin hit me like a blow.

  “You remember me!” She tried to hug me again but I dodged, fending her off and putting the computer counter between us. Mila didn’t seem to notice, her stare locked on my face. “I’m so happy to see you again, Fee.”

  “How have you been?” This was super weird and the creep factor was growing by the moment.

  Mila shrugged off the question, eyes never leaving my face. “I was in an institution for a while,” she said like she was telling me the weather outside. “Court ordered.”

  “I see.” What to say to that? “Because of Willow?” Nice, Fee. Way to be an insensitive jerk.

  But Mila just smiled wider. “Oh, her,” she said, like her stalking addiction toward the star had no lingering effect. Well, that was good, right? Was she cured? “I’m so over her. I’ve moved on.”

  Nice to hear. Wait, did that mean she’d latched onto someone else for real? My heart beat a bit faster as I thought about Grace. Could I keep Mila away from her?

  “I have a reservation.” She batted her lashes at me. “Here at Petunia’s. I made sure to pick Petunia’s, not the annex. It’s under Marion. That’s my real name.”

  I checked the listing and secretly hoped it wouldn’t be there. Nope, no such luck. “All set,” I said, a bit too cheerfully but Mila just seemed delighted. Subtle social cues were not her strong suit, apparently. I handed her a key and when she took it from me her fingers lingered.

  “I’m so happy to be back in Reading.” She stared, a full-on stare like she’d gotten lost in a drug haze or someone hit her in the head. Was she on meds? Yikes, I had to keep an eye on her, just in case. “So happy, Fee.”

  I nodded, waited for her to leave. To take her bag and go upstairs to her room. While she stood there and smiled at me in a dreamy way that just got weirder and more awkward by the second.

  I finally cleared my throat and gestured for the stairs. “Have a nice stay.”

  “Thank you.” She left then, though she didn’t stop staring as she headed for the steps, dragging her bag behind her, and continued to watch me as she ascended to the second floor. I shivered a bit at the intensity of her gaze, thoroughly creeped out.

  I finally shrugged off the effect of her odd behavior. You know what? I wasn’t responsible for Mila. If she was
here for Grace, then Grace would have to deal with her. Not my problem. But, I would be warning Dad, just in case. He’d agreed to keep an eye on things, though the need for actual security had seemed excessive to me.

  Whatever. I had more important things to consider as I checked my watch and grinned to myself before heading for the door to my apartment. I had a date, after all, and there was no better way to distract myself from the world around me than spending time with the man I loved.

  ***

  Chapter Six

  I settled into my seat, smiling at the hostess who set a menu in front of me before doing the same for Crew. “Your server will be right with you.” She left us alone then, the soft music and low lighting of the rooftop restaurant about as romantic as any setting I could have imagined.

  When Crew texted me while I tried to decide what to wear to dinner, I’d been surprised by his suggestion we eat out. He usually liked to cook for me, though we had gone out a few times. I never knew if it was concern that Reading residents might see us together—old fears—or if he just wanted me all to himself—I preferred that reasoning—but whatever the case, we always seemed to end up on his couch or mine.

  My initial disappointment had turned to delight at the suggestion we try out Rooftop, Alicia’s latest project. The glassed-in space at the top of the lodge had a spectacular view of the mountains, Cutter Lake in the distance, the last of the snow from the most recent storm shining under the moon and stars. Late March or not, the weather had been spectacular, warmer than usual, and the skiing hill wasn’t as active as usual despite efforts to make snow to keep visitors happy. I was delighted, because it meant we were able to get reservations, even with the extra guests the fashion show event had brought in.

  Crew seemed oddly uncomfortable in his dark suit despite the fact I knew he’d spent many years wearing one while working with the FBI. He’d asked me what color I was wearing and surprised me by matching his pocket square and tie to the navy blue of my dress. A sweet detail, one that made my heart melt as much as this effort to make our date special.