by Sonia Parin
“So… What did you get?” Abby asked.
“The most gorgeous creation and I had to fight two women for it. Honestly, this is a small town. That sort of behavior is not supposed to be on display here.” Holding the dress by the shoulders straps, Faith revealed it one inch at a time. “What do you think?”
“It’s beautiful,” Abby gushed. “Oh, you’re going to look so good in it.”
“Feel the fabric.”
“What little there is of it.” Abby smiled and pointed at the lowcut back. “It’s rather daring. How far down does that go?”
“Far enough. I’ll have to hunt around for a pair of heels to go with it. I might even have to drive to the next town. I just walked past the shoe store and I saw three women fighting over the same pair of shoes and I swear not a single one of them would have been able to fit into them. You’d think none of them had ever been to a ball. Well, I haven’t, so I guess they haven’t either. We’re all so thrilled.”
“I have a pair of black high heels you can borrow. I think we wear the same size.” She certainly wouldn’t need them.
“Thank you. I’m going to try one other place. I remember seeing a pair with a little bow on top.” Faith shrugged. “At the time, I didn’t think I’d ever get any use out of them. Anyway, what are you doing standing around? Go get yourself a dress. We’ve all been waiting for this shipment for weeks now. If you don’t hurry, you’ll miss out.”
Glancing at Doyle, Abby smiled. “We’ve only just returned. Doyle wants his nap and I need to make sense of the notes I took. Remember, I went out to interview Kinsley Roberts.” And, she too had been talking about the upcoming event.
“You can work on the article this afternoon. And Doyle can sleep all he wants while you go to the store. You should hurry. Half an hour ago, there were only a handful of black evening gowns left. Who knows if you’ll find anything now? You don’t want to be the person walking around and having other people point and say… Oh, I saw that dress, but it looked awful on the hanger. Gloria said she’s put in another order for more dresses but they might not arrive in time.”
Abby scratched around for a response. “That’s okay. I have my little cocktail dress. It’s served me well over the years and is good enough for all occasions.”
“Good enough? That won’t cut it. This is a ball. A Venetian Ball. You need a special evening gown, not a cocktail dress you drag out for any old affair.”
Abby bent down and looked under her desk and peered through the gaps in the floorboard.
Why hadn’t she received an invitation?
“I’m sorry, Abby. You should have come by earlier. I had a new shipment come in this morning but the dresses sold like hot cakes.” Gloria Schultz, the owner of Eden’s one and only clothing store, Mannequin, flipped the Closed sign over. Clearly, she had done well enough to call it a day.
Abby huffed out a breath. She couldn’t even pretend to be one of the lucky few attending the ball. Giving Gloria a brisk smile, she said, “I hear there’s another shipment coming in.”
“It’s been delayed.” Gloria grabbed her keys and waved her toward the door. “Sorry to rush you. I’m already late for my hairdresser’s appointment. She managed to squeeze me in but only because she had a last-minute cancellation. I tried to make the booking as soon as I received the invitation, but she was already fully booked. I got lucky. One of her customers ended up having her baby a couple of days early. I guess I’ll have to sleep sitting down for two days so I don’t crush my hairdo.”
Abby tugged a lock of hair behind her ear. People were getting their hair done?
“I don’t understand why Charles didn’t give us more notice,” Gloria continued. “This is the event of the year. He’s throwing open the doors to Willoughby Park. I hear it’s quite splendid and as grand as any palace the Queen lives in. We should have had months to prepare.”
A palace? Granted, Abby thought, the house did resemble an English country estate but it was just a house and Charles Granger hosted several events throughout the year, all organized to benefit the local hospital.
Gloria checked to see if she had everything she needed. “Oh, I can’t remember ever being this excited. Not since my wedding and that was thirty years ago. A Venetian Ball. Just imagine it. I hear everyone will be issued a mask to wear. It all sounds so wonderfully magical.”
Abby couldn’t go back to the Gazette emptyhanded. She simply couldn’t face Faith. Not yet. Not until she came up with a credible story for not attending the ball. She’d have to come clean and admit to not having received an invitation…
She reached the corner and waited for a car to drive by. Crouching down, she hurried across the street and ducked inside the pub. She could only hope Faith hadn’t been looking out the window at that precise moment. Faith could be a hard taskmaster when she put her mind to it. In her opinion, Abby needed a new dress so Abby had to get a new dress. Abby hoped she’d find some peace and quiet at the pub. After her failure at Mannequin’s, she needed to regroup and come up with a solid lie for not attending the ball.
Abby frowned. A lie? Why not just tell the truth? She felt a rush of heat settle on her cheeks. The truth meant she’d have to own up to being excluded, and no one liked to be left out.
Inside, she made a beeline for the counter and collapsed on a barstool.
“What will it be?” Mitch asked. The co-owner of The Gloriana smiled from ear to ear and looked about ready to burst out laughing.
Did he know something she didn’t?
Had news about Abby not getting a dress, or even an invitation, begun to spread around town?
“Coffee, please.” Abby glanced over her shoulder. Seeing only a couple of customers, she asked, “Slow day?”
“The lunch hour came and went at the blink of an eye. People are rushing around making last minute preparations. Even Markus took off to try his new tuxedo on.”
Markus? He had an invitation and Mitch’s brother had joined the frenzy?
“Oh?” was all she managed to say.
“I had a fitting last week, but I’m more organized.”
Bespoke tuxedos?
“I didn’t realize there was a tailor in town.”
Mitch nodded. “He came out of retirement just for this event.”
“I see.”
Mitch leaned in and murmured, “You’ll never guess, so I’ll tell you. Markus and I have been taking ballroom dancing lessons.”
Markus Faydon, the bear with a sore head…
Straightening, Mitch shrugged. “We’ve been to a few shindigs at Willoughby Park, but nothing will compare to a Venetian Ball. I hear there’s going to be a fireworks display. Charles wanted Hanna to do the catering, but Markus put his foot down saying he hadn’t taken all those ballroom dancing lessons to have his girlfriend slaving over a hot stove.”
“Um, coffee?”
“Oh, right.” He turned and got busy grinding some coffee. Looking over his shoulder, he asked, “So, have you decided what you’re going to wear?”
When Abby ran out of excuses for staying away from the Gazette, she returned. If Faith asked about the dress, she’d… she’d have to lie.
Or admit to the fact she hadn’t been invited.
Which would be worse?
Pride had never figured prominently in her outlook; her personality simply didn’t need it. Until now. Would she lie in order to save face?
Lost in her thoughts, she strode into the Gazette.
“Hey, Abby. Look who’s here.”
It took a moment to recognize the man from his back. Sebastian Cavendish? His grandfather, Dermott Cavendish, had owned the Eden Rise Gazette and had been responsible for luring Abby half way around the world to live and work in the small-town. When he’d met an untimely end, Sebastian had been generous enough to keep the small-town newspaper open in memory of his grandfather. Otherwise, he had bigger fish to fry, including his national newspaper, The Daily First.
“Sebastian made a special trip to attend the Venetian
Ball,” Faith said, her tone excited.
Honestly, the next person who mentioned a Venetian Ball…
Sebastian turned and waved hello. “A Venetian Ball in Eden. How could I miss it?”
Abby smiled. “Sebastian. It’s good to see you again.” Had he come alone? A lightning bolt idea struck. Frowning, Abby tried to remember if the invitation Faith had shown her had included a plus one. “Everyone is talking about it,” she said. “I’ve just been over at the pub and even Mitch is excited.”
Her mind cranked up and started generating a few ideas. If she dressed up and showed up… she could linger by the door and wait for Sebastian to arrive, then she’d engage him in conversation and simply tag along with him. Everyone would assume she’d gone as his plus one.
Doyle yawned and settled his little head on his paws, his large chocolate brown eyes giving Abby a head to toe look.
“So, where’s your dress?” Faith asked. Turning to Sebastian, she added, “I had to shove her out the door so she could get to the store before they ran out. Honestly, if I didn’t know better, I’d say she didn’t care either way about the Venetian Ball.”
She didn’t. Not really. Okay. So, she couldn’t go so far as to say she didn’t care. Otherwise, she would not have spent so much time wondering why she had been excluded.
Now… Well, inspiration, motivation, and a pinch of creativity had sparked her enthusiasm. She might even go so far as to say she felt excited.
A Venetian Ball!
She would gatecrash it.
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Other cozy mystery books by Sonia Parin
A Deadline Cozy Mystery
Sunny Side Up
Snuffed Out
All Tied Up
The Last Bite
Final Cut
Sleeping with the Fishes
A Kink in the Road
The Merry Widow
Dying Trade
An Evie Parker Mystery
House Party Murder Rap
Murder at the Tea Party
Murder at the Car Rally
A Dear Abby Cozy Mystery
End of the Lane
Be still my Heart
The Last Ride
The Last Stop
The Last Dance
A Mackenzie Coven Mystery
Witch Inheritance
Witch Indeed
Witch Cast
Witch Charm
Witch Trials
Witch Namaste - A Mackenzie Short
Good Witch Hunting - A Mackenzie Short
’Tis the Season to be Creepy - A Mackenzie Short
Jingle Purrs - A Mackenzie Short
Potion Heist - A Mackenzie Short
Witch in Exile
The Power of Two and a Half - A Mackenzie Short
Witch Fairy Tale
