by Laura Durham
Richard glanced at his watch. "Do you think it's too early for me to call on check on him?"
After insisting most of his life that pets and children were too messy and unpredictable for him, he'd acquired Hermes when a casual dating situation had morphed into something more and the pint-sized pup was part of the package. After some initial complaints and a generous amount of hand sanitizer, he'd taken to carrying the dog everywhere with him in his man bag. Now Richard and Hermes owned matching Burberry jackets and plaid pajamas.
I made a quick mental calculation. "Only if you consider four in the morning to be too early."
"I'll wait. I'm sure he's fine."
I patted his arm. "He and Leatrice probably stayed up late watching old Noir movies and doing their nails."
"Are we talking about my dog or Sidney Allen?"
I shrugged, noticing the doorman deposit our luggage next to two brass bell carts stacked high with suitcases. "Take your pick."
"Guess what," Fern said, rushing up and dragging Kate behind him. "I just met the nicest ladies."
Richard raised an eyebrow. "You mean the sweatpants grandmas?"
Fern swatted at him. "Be nice. They aren't all in sweatpants and they aren't all grandmas." He tapped a finger to his chin. "Actually, I don't know if they all are or not. The good news is they didn't bring grandchildren if they have them. They're here from the U.S. on a genealogical tour. They're tracking down their Irish roots. Isn't that exciting?"
"This is a pretty upscale place for a tour group," I said, remembering how much the Senator was paying for each of our rooms.
"I think most of them must have money from dead husbands," Fern said, his voice low. "I recognize the look of well-heeled widows."
Richard didn't look so convinced. "Well-heeled widows in sweats?"
"Don't look at the clothes. They just came off the plane like we did." He cut his eyes to a woman in a yellow velour track suit. "Focus on the fingers and the handbags."
I cut my eyes to the woman and noticed a huge diamond ring and the interlocking Cs of the Chanel logo on her black quilted bag. So not your typical traveling grandmas.
"I didn't see a tour bus outside," I said.
Fern wrinkled his nose. "This is a custom tour, so they have one of those fancy minibuses with a driver. Apparently the lady with the Dowager Countess hairdo arranged it all."
I followed his gaze to a woman with steel gray hair piled on top of her head and a black binder in her hands. Unlike most of the other ladies, she did not wear sweats, but instead had on a wrinkle-free beige pantsuit.
"Myrna heads up the online group as well," Fern explained.
"Online?" Richard asked. "Don't tell me they're wannabe hackers like Leatrice."
"You know she gave that up," I said, not wanting to dwell on my neighbor's brief foray into the underbelly of the internet.
"That's how they met," Fern said, giving one of the women a finger wave. "They're in a Facebook group for widows looking for Irish ancestors."
Kate tilted her head at him. "How specific."
Fern fluttered a hand. "There's a group for everything these days. Don't ask me how, but I'm in a group for man bun aficionados. Of course, it's mostly women posting pictures of Jason Momoa."
"That's what most Facebook groups are these days," Kate said," and I, for one, am fine with it."
I rubbed my head, feeling the exhaustion from the long night in the airplane setting in. "You know a lot about these ladies." I leaned in to Richard. "How much of a head start did these two get in here?"
Richard patted my hand. "You know Fern. He can make friends with a potted palm."
"Comes with the hairstylist territory." Fern winked at me. "People seem to confess their souls around me."
The woman Fern had identified as Myrna raised her voice as she shuffled her group out of the lobby. "Back down here by one o'clock for falconry, ladies."
"Falconry?" Richard's eyes widened. "There are falcons here?"
"I think so." I hiked my tote higher on my shoulder and moved toward the open reception desk. "You have an issue with falcons?"
"Animals with razor-sharp talons?" He shuddered. "Sounds charming, but no, thank you."
""It took him months to acclimate to a five pound dog, Annabelle," Kate said. "I wouldn't hold my breath for falcons."
As I greeted the woman at the reception desk and handed her our confirmations, my phone began vibrating. I pulled it out of my bag and glanced at the screen, feeling myself smile when I saw my boyfriend's name pop up.
"It's Reese," I said, handing my bag to Kate. "Can you get us checked in while I take this?"
Kate wagged her eyebrows at me. "Tell hot cop I said hi."
I gave Kate a look. I wasn't crazy about her referring to my boyfriend as hot cop, even though he was a DC cop, a detective actually, and he was hot. I still had a hard time believing a hard-bodied, dark-haired detective had picked a workaholic wedding planner who wore a perpetual ponytail and considered wedding cake one of her food groups.
I took a few steps away as I answered. "You have good timing. We just arrived at our hotel. Do you miss me already?"
"Annabelle," my boyfriend said. "I need you to get on the next plane back home."
Chapter 3
"You're kidding, right?" I asked, my heart thudding in my chest.
He let out a resigned sigh on the other end. "Yes, but I had no idea how much time Sidney Allen would spend in our apartment."
"Sidney Allen? As in Leatrice's fiancée?"
"I'm not sure if it's Leatrice that's getting to him or Leatrice's wedding planning or Leatrice's weird relationship with Richard's dog, but he showed up at our door after you left and ended up watching ESPN with me until I kicked him out after midnight."
I scratched my head. "Sidney Allen watched sports?"
It made sense that he wanted a break from Leatrice. What didn't make sense was the excitable entertainment guru watching sports. From what I knew of him, the small egg-shaped man walked around events with a headset and directed his costumed performers like ground crew waved in airplanes. Sidney Allen was the person you called when you wanted to recreate Cirque de Soleil in your backyard or have a Renaissance-themed party complete with court jesters and bawdy serving wenches. He lived in dark suits, hiked his pants almost to his armpits, and gave Richard a run for his money when it came to overreacting. He did not lounge around and he certainly didn't watch ESPN.
"Unless I was hallucinating," Reese said. "Which is entirely possible considering how wiped I was after pulling a double shift. But I'm pretty sure he mentioned dropping by again tonight. If this is going to be a regular occurrence, I may have to hop on the next plane to Ireland and join you."
Kate handed me a small paper room key folder. I watched her hand similar ones to Fern and Richard then motion to me that they were going upstairs. I nodded and followed behind, ducking as Fern tossed his green scarf over his shoulder.
"You want to ride around in a car with the four of us?" I asked as we headed up a mahogany staircase. I let Richard walk a few steps ahead of me before dropping my voice. "Richard's driving."
"Maybe not. I guess I'll just have to pull longer shifts while you're gone or do a better job of sneaking in our apartment building."
"My best tips for that are taking off your shoes and making sure the front door doesn't slam behind you on the first floor."
Reese laughed. "So you're saying I need to be a cat burglar to get into my own apartment?"
"Pretty much," I said as we walked down a long corridor and read room numbers as we went. "I've been doing it for years so Leatrice wouldn't know I was home."
"I didn't think it worked all that well," Reese said.
"I didn't say it was foolproof. Leatrice has supersonic hearing for an eighty-year-old, but if you're lucky, Sidney Allen doesn't." I hoisted my black Longchamp tote bag onto my shoulder as it slipped down. "You could always turn off all the lights and hide under the bed."
"
Leatrice bothering him?" Kate whispered, turning around.
I covered the bottom of the phone and shook my head. "Sidney Allen."
Kate's eyebrows popped up. "I'm not sure if that's better or worse."
"Worse," Richard said from a few paces ahead where he'd stopped in front of a dark wood door. "At least the old dear has good taste when it comes to dogs." He opened the door and pushed it open. "I'm going to freshen up and check in with Hermes. I'll see you all later."
"I'm across from you, Annabelle," Kate said, flashing her room key at me.
I gave her a small wave and watched her disappear inside her room, and then I opened my own door and pushed it open with one hip. "Wow."
"I hope you're saying that about the views and not about the Irish lads," Reese said.
"Funny." I took a few steps into the room and dropped my bag on the dark blue love seat tucked at the foot of the king sized bed. "My room is gorgeous."
Even though it wasn't enormous, the ceilings were high and a crystal chandelier hung from the center. A trio of windows took up the far wall and overlooked a river bank edged with trees. Cream-colored curtains hung from floor to ceiling and were the same soft shade as the damask wallpaper. The bed and the tables--from the night stands to the low coffee table--were dark wood with the crisp white duvet and a pile of fluffy pillows a sharp contrast. Over the bed hung a tapestry in soft blues and dusty rose--a medieval scene of lords and ladies alongside horses and the curved bows of ships.
"Hold on," I said, pressing the camera app on my phone. "I should take some photos to show the bride since these are the rooms her guests would get."
I snapped a few shots then walked into the bathroom, trying not to gasp out loud. A glass standing shower was the first thing I saw but my eyes were immediately drawn to the tall windows above a standing soaking tub letting light stream into the room. A pair of mirrors perched over the gray marble double vanity and high end toiletries stood in a yellow row between the two sinks.
I took a few more pictures before holding the phone to my ear again. "You don't mind if I talk to you while I take a bath, do you?"
He chuckled. "I'm assuming the bathroom there is better than ours?"
"You assume correctly." I loved a lot of things about my older stone-front apartment building in Georgetown. The dated bathrooms were not one of them.
I twisted the shiny chrome handle and the tub began filling with water. After examining the Acqua di Parma toiletries, I plucked the mango-yellow tube of bath and shower gel off the counter and squeezed some under the rushing water. The perfumed scent began to fill the room, and I felt the knots in my shoulders start to unravel.
"Isn't it still really early in DC?" I asked, peeling off my black jeans and tucking them into one of the open cubbies under the sink that held white towels.
"I have to be in again early." Reese yawned loudly. "We're wrapping up a murder investigation."
"The romance author who killed her husband?" I asked as I pulled my tunic over my head and wrapped a towel around me before taking off my underwear. I looked out the windows overlooking the green lawn, not seeing anyone but not relishing the thought of stripping naked in front of an open window either.
"Yep. The case is pretty tight especially since she wrote about a woman who got revenge on a cheating husband in one of her books."
"What was the murder weapon?" I held my hand under the water to test the temperature.
"Nice try, babe."
"What?" I stepped into the tub and let myself sink into the warm water, dropping the towel to the floor once I was below the windowsill.
"You're in Ireland to research castles and fancy houses for a wedding. You're not supposed to be thinking about my murder case."
"Sorry." I let my head rest on the curved lip of the tub and stretched out my legs. "Old habits die hard."
I rolled my head to one side and could just see out the window where a group was walking across the lawn. From the brightly colored outfits, it looked like the genealogy grandmas. As I rotated my head forward, a vivid green flash caught my eye. I sat up higher. Was that Fern with them?
"You've got to be kidding me," I muttered.
"What?"
"Not you." I slid back down under the bubbles. "Fern made fast friends with some elderly American women here to hunt down their Irish roots, and it looks like he's tagged along on their falconry experience."
"That sounds about right. Has Kate fallen in love already and Richard had a nervous breakdown?"
I laughed. He knew my friends too well. "To answer your questions--as to Kate, not yet, but give it a few hours, and regarding Richard's nervous breakdown, of course."
He chuckled. "I know it's work, but promise me you'll have some fun while you're there. Drink some Guinness, kiss the Blarney Stone, and eat lots of soda bread."
I switched the phone to my other ear. "Did you read up on things to do in Ireland?"
"I might have." He cleared his throat. "The more you talked about it, the more I thought it would be the kind of place I'd like to visit with you one day."
I felt a warmth spread through my body that had nothing to do with the water in the tub. "That's so sweet. We've never really traveled together before, except for the time you flew halfway across the world to help me catch a killer."
"Not exactly the most romantic trip."
"I don't know." I sank lower in the tub so the bubbles from the bath gel reached my neck. "I had a good time once you got there. You're right, though. Ireland is the perfect place for a relaxing getaway."
"What about for a honeymoon?"
I nearly dropped the phone into the water as I slipped down, my feet flying up and the back of my head falling into the water. I yelped and grabbed the side of the tub for balance, holding my phone up high with the other.
"Annabelle? Babe, are you still there?"
"I'm here," I said, coughing and sitting up. "Just slipped a bit."
"You're sure I didn't freak you out?"
"Me? Freak out?" I laughed, but it sounded too high and too fake. "I plan weddings for a living. Why would the mention of a honeymoon make me nervous?"
"We've never really talked about it before. Marriage, I mean."
I steadied my breath and hoped my slower breathing would also steady my racing heart. "You're right. We haven't." Were we really having this discussion when I was thousands of miles away and naked?
"Annie?" Kate's voice made me swing my head toward the open bathroom door.
You have got to be kidding me, I thought as my assistant walked into the bathroom.
"You have a tub too," she said, nodding and smiling as she took in the room. "But your view is better than mine."
She came closer, and I slipped back down under the water. "Do you mind?"
She glanced at my phone and put a hand over her mouth. "Sorry. Still talking with Reese?"
Before I could wave her out so I could get back to my boyfriend and his bombshell, Richard barreled into the room. "Here you both are."
He paused when he saw me in the tub, glanced over at Kate, and then shook his head. "I've been saying you two need to set professional boundaries for years."
“How did you both waltz into my room?” I asked.
Kate hopped up onto the marble countertop. “I got us each copies of each other’s room keys. Didn’t you see them in the back of the key card folder I gave you?”
That was the last time I let Kate check us in, I thought. No way did I want to spend a week in Ireland with my friends walking into my room at all hours.
"What is it?" I asked Richard, trying not to grit my teeth or scream.
"It's a disaster is what it is." Richard threw his hands into the air. "Everything is ruined."
Chapter 4
"Just so we're clear," I said as I settled into the passenger seat of our rental car. "Leatrice feeding Hermes milk bones does not constitute an emergency."
Richard gave me a look that told me he clearly disagreed. "It does when I
've spent ages training him to like the organic dog biscuits our chef makes for him."
"Wait a second," Kate said as she got into the back seat. "You have your chef make dog biscuits for you?"
Richard eyed her as he adjusted the rearview mirror. "I can't exactly have a chef from another catering company make them. It's a proprietary recipe that took me months to develop."
"For dog biscuits?" I said, emphasizing each word and hoping he would pick up on how ridiculous I thought it was.
"Yes, Annabelle." Richard spoke slowly as well, as if talking to a small child, and he patted my hand. "That is what we're talking about. Try to keep up, darling."
I cut my eyes to him as he put the keys in the ignition. I was still steamed at him for barging into my bath and interrupting my conversation with Reese, even if a part of me felt relieved not to have to deal with the topic my boyfriend had introduced. By the time I'd shooed everyone out of my bathroom, Reese had had to head off to work and my bubbles had disappeared. I couldn't blame Kate and Richard entirely. I'd clammed up at the mention of the "M" word. Despite the fact that I planned weddings for a living, I hadn't spent too much time thinking about if or when I'd actually tie the knot.
The sad fact of my job was that, until recently, it had kept me too busy to date. Not that I'd met many eligible bachelors. The grooms were taken, and the groomsmen I'd always considered off-limits. If I hadn't had so many unfortunate incidents at weddings, I might never have met Detective Mike Reese. Our romance hadn't enjoyed the smoothest path, and Richard had taken a while to accept the fact that I had another man in my life. It had been nearly six months since Reese had moved in with me, and I felt like things had only recently gotten into an easy rhythm. The idea of taking things to the next level so soon made my stomach do somersaults. Add that to the fact that all the women I knew who were engaged--aka my clients--also became a little crazy, and the thought of being one of those women made me want to run for the hills.
