“Sure,” she said, starting to climb out of her dress. “I’d love to see you later. We’re leaving the bridal salon and stopping off at the church before heading to the venue for the reception. We’re also meeting the restaurant manager and the wedding planner there later this afternoon. So I guess I should be home by seven tonight.”
“Great,” Jake said. DeeDee could imagine his smile and his dancing blue eyes at the other end of the line. “I’ll cook for you for a change,” he went on. “Stop by my place and Balto and I will be waiting. I’ll pick him up from Tammy’s later this afternoon. I have to go in that direction anyway.”
DeeDee said goodbye and finished getting changed, carefully placing her outfit for the wedding onto the padded hanger. Several pins were sticking out where the seamstress was going to make the last adjustments.
She was looking forward to seeing her two favorite guys later, Jake and Balto.
*****
After leaving Luly Yang’s, and saying goodbye to Tink who was meeting friends, DeeDee drove with Roz to the Seattle First Presbyterian Church to see where the ceremony would be taking place the following Saturday afternoon.
It had been a while since DeeDee had been there, and she almost choked up with emotion when she stepped inside the majestic old stone building. In her mind’s eye, she could already picture Roz walking down the aisle under the vast domed ceiling, her dress shimmering in the afternoon light. DeeDee and Tink would be walking in front of her, with Clark waiting at the altar. As their father had died several years earlier, DeeDee’s son Mitch was going to be giving Roz away. If the raw emotions DeeDee felt now just thinking about it were any indication, she knew she’d have to compose herself for the real thing. It was a comfort to know that the three hundred sets of eyes watching the bridal procession would all be focused on Roz, not her.
“This place is enormous,” she said to Roz, awestruck. “It’s just as well you have so many guests coming, or we’d be rattling around in here.” Her voice echoed in the empty church.
“The more the merrier,” Roz grinned. “All the better for a great party afterwards.” Roz grabbed DeeDee’s arm. “Speaking of which, what say we get going to The Catch restaurant? Francesca’s probably waiting, and we can get lunch while we’re there.”
DeeDee marveled at how calm Roz was in the days leading up to her big day. Standing in the church, DeeDee’s stomach was full of butterflies, and they hadn’t even had the wedding rehearsal yet. That was scheduled for Wednesday night before going to dinner with Clark’s Uncle Vinny. The thought of lunch made her hope the butterflies she was feeling were just hunger pangs, and would disappear after they’d eaten.
On the drive to The Catch restaurant, they listened to a radio interview with a local police officer about driving safely over the holidays. Officer John Denton was live on the air, reminding the public to leave their cars at home if they were attending festive parties, and not to drink and drive. “Remember folks, have fun, and be safe out there!”
“What a jerk that guy is. Everybody knows that,” Roz said, shaking her head and changing the radio station to something with catchy music. “Turn here, DeeDee, this is the driveway entrance to The Catch.”
Michele, the French speaking restaurant manager, greeted them at the door. “Zees way, ladies,” he purred, showing them to a table by the window. “Ze wedding planner called to say she will be a little late.”
After ordering a glass of wine for Roz, and a sparkling water for DeeDee—“Officer Denton would be proud,” she giggled—Michele sat down with them to finalize the arrangements for the wedding reception dinner, and strongly recommended the restaurant’s signature dish of steak topped with grilled mushrooms.
“My mouth is watering,” DeeDee said. “Surf and Turf is one of my favorite meals ever. Steak and lobster for three hundred guests will go down in history as an epic wedding feast, I’m sure.”
Roz nodded. “That’s what Uncle Vinny said,” she exclaimed with a smile. “It’s expensive, but he wants the meal to be memorable. See, I knew you’d like him!”
DeeDee took a sip of her water. She’d had a few hours for the news about Uncle Vinny’s Mafia past to sink in. Somehow it didn’t seem real, so she’d decided to put it out of her mind for now. She trusted Roz’s judgment, and Roz seemed to like the man. It would be doing him an injustice to form a decision about his character without meeting him. Even so, it was hard for DeeDee’s moral compass to contemplate liking someone who was possibly a criminal. Feeling confused again, she tried to push all thoughts about Uncle Vinny to the back of her mind.
Roz finalized the wine order for the event based on Vinny’s shortlisted wine choices, which DeeDee noted were flawless. The man clearly had fine taste. Michele left them, and just as they were about to finish a delicious lunch of grilled ahi tuna steak seared black on the outside and red in the middle, cooked to perfection, a scowling woman came rushing over to their table and noisily sat down.
DeeDee looked up in surprise at the rude interruption.
“This is Francesca Murphy,” Roz said, with a faint smile. “The wonderful wedding planner I’ve been telling you about. We know the same people from way back. Francesca, this is my sister, DeeDee.”
Francesca greeted DeeDee with a look that was more of a wince than a smile, and gave her a perfunctory handshake. “Pleasure,” Francesca said, without catching DeeDee’s eye.
Francesca proceeded to engage in conversation with Roz, totally ignoring DeeDee during the discussion that followed, which involved various last minute wedding details. DeeDee was happy to finish her meal in silence and simply observe what was going on, although she wasn’t sure she liked the wedding planner. Several times, Roz asked DeeDee’s opinion on something such as the stationery for the Thank You cards, or gratuities for the wait staff, and DeeDee offered input as best she could. Her ideas were mostly dismissed by Francesca, or met with derision in the form of an eye roll or a scowl.
“One final thing,” Francesca said, when it looked like they were wrapping things up. It was getting late, and DeeDee was ready to make her way to the ferry terminal for the crossing to Bainbridge Island, so she could get back to Jake and Balto. “I’ve received a substantial five figure check from a Mr. Vincent Santora, as a down payment for my services, along with a note to send all of the final invoices to him. Is that correct?”
“Yes,” Roz said with a nod. “That’s Clark’s Uncle Vinny. He’s paying for everything.”
“I see,” Francesca said, sucking in her cheeks. “That’s nice. I wish I would be so lucky when I get married.”
DeeDee noticed the minuscule diamond solitaire on the ring finger of Francesca’s left hand. “Are you getting married soon?” DeeDee asked her gently.
Francesca looked at DeeDee with her signature glare. “Soon enough,” she said. “Next Spring. It’s a small, private affair. Nothing fancy.” After dating her boyfriend Harry for ten years, Francesca had given him an ultimatum, that they either get married without delay or break up. He’d agreed to marry her, but there wasn’t much enthusiasm shown on his part. They would be tying the knot at the Seattle Municipal Court with a couple of witnesses, and maybe go for a meal afterwards, just the two of them. It wasn’t much to get excited about. “We’re paying for it ourselves,” she added, with an air of superiority.
“That’s lovely,” DeeDee said, with a sideways glance at Roz, who was looking bemused. “An intimate wedding is always very special. I hope you and your future husband will be very happy.”
“Thanks,” Francesca grunted, gathering up her paperwork and standing up abruptly. “If you’ll excuse me, I really have to run.” With that, she left just as suddenly as she’d arrived.
“Wow,” Roz said with a chuckle. “You really rubbed her up the wrong way, didn’t you?”
DeeDee shrugged. “That’s an understatement. She’s very prickly, isn’t she? Seems like she has a real chip on her shoulder about your wedding, if you ask me.”
Roz
tipped her head to the side and thought for a moment. “No, I don’t think so. She’s just a little shy. Francesca can be a little frosty when she doesn’t know people, but we’re getting along very well. Honestly, she’s fine. You’ll see.”
DeeDee turned away and waved to the server for the check. Roz didn’t have a suspicious bone in her body, but DeeDee wasn’t so sure when it came to deciding if a person was on the up and up.
CHAPTER 5
“Harry, honey, are you home?”
Francesca put her keys on the hallway table of the small house she shared with her fiancé, Harry Goldsmith. The television was blaring from the living room, but that didn’t mean Harry was around. He never turned it off, even when he went out. To do so would have necessitated him to stop for a second and press a button on the remote control handset, which seemed beyond his capabilities. It wasn’t that he couldn’t do it, he was just too lazy.
Francesca sighed, and picked up a dirty t-shirt that was laying on the floor at the entrance to the house’s one tiny bedroom. She could hear water running in the bathroom, and the trail of discarded clothes in that direction indicated Harry was in the shower. She reached down for his jeans, socks, and underwear, and put them in the laundry basket, which was overflowing.
He could do some laundry, it’s not like he even works, she thought to herself, sitting on the edge of the bed and taking off her high heels. Ever since the meeting with Roz Lawson and her sister at The Catch that afternoon to discuss Roz’s wedding, Francesca had been fuming. Having to deal with clients like Roz Lawson personified everything that Francesca hated about being a wedding planner. Angrily, she threw a shoe across the room. It didn’t have far to travel to hit the wall opposite where she was sitting, and it came ricocheting back towards her.
Harry chose that moment to walk out of the bathroom. Wrapped in a towel from the waist down, exposing his dark hairy upper half which was similar to a gorilla, he dodged the flying shoe just in time.
“That almost hit me in the eye,” he muttered. “It’s about time you got back. What took you so long? I haven’t eaten all day. What’s for dinner?”
Francesca eyed him with distaste. “Am I to assume the empty potato chips wrappers on the floor in front of the television ate themselves? And the Twinkie wrappers just flew off and fell on the floor as well? That’s amazing.”
Harry scratched his dark curly hair. He grunted, and started opening drawers. “Where are my clean shirts? The drawers are empty. Some wife you’ll make, that’s all I can say. I certainly hope you don’t think this is acceptable.” Then he laughed, and flopped down onto the bed. “Just kidding. Come here, baby, and make Harry happy. You know how much I’ve missed you all day, don’t you, sweetie pie?”
Francesca pushed his eager hands away.
“Get your hairy paws off of me,” she said with a shudder. “You’re darned right it’s not acceptable.” She turned and started poking Harry in the chest with her finger. “You need to get a job instead of lying around here waiting for me to come home and cook and clean for you. I’m busting a gut trying to make a life for us. Who pays for everything around here? Francesca Murphy, that’s who. Not to mention making all the loan payments on our debts as well. And what thanks do I get? Nada, zero, zilch.”
“They’re your debts. They have nothing to do with me,” Harry said with a diffident shrug.
Francesca glared at Harry, who made a face back, immune to her repertoire of rants. Not succeeding in riling him, she stomped into the bathroom and slammed the door closed. Harry had left a pool of water on the floor, and she cursed as her panty hose got wet. She undressed and turned on the shower. When the steam started to fill the room, she stepped under the warm jets which blasted her from above, and felt the rush of water on her body. Life was so unfair. Francesca had never wanted to be in the bridal business at all. Like Roz, she’d set her sights on becoming a CPA, and went to work for a very reputable company when she finished college.
Unfortunately, one of the partners had been embezzling money from the company’s clients for several years and got caught, prosecuted, and sent to prison. The company went bankrupt trying to pay all of their clients back the money the partner had embezzled. After that, she’d tried to make a success by starting her own CPA practice, but after ten years of living hand to mouth she had to admit that her business was a failure, and she closed it. On a whim, Francesca decided to work in a completely new area, and she became a bridal consultant. Attractive, charming, and intelligent, she was able to convince several bridal shops, restaurants, and wedding venues to refer her services to brides-to-be. While her wedding consulting business had become successful, she was still struggling financially to pay back the loans she’d accrued when she had her own CPA business.
Harry yelled through the door. “Are you coming out any time soon? Let’s go out for dinner. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, honey?”
“You mean YOU would,” she screamed back.
Harry Goldsmith was another drain on her finances. She knew they probably would go out for dinner later, and Francesca would pay as usual, since Harry had no money of his own. But without Harry, Francesca had no one. He was the only constant presence in her life. Despite her ultimatum to Harry about getting married, she wasn’t sure how she would have coped if he’d decided to break up with her. She didn’t want to face life alone.
Apart from Harry, Francesca had no other family and no safety net to fall back on. An only child, both of her parents died in a freak boating accident when they’d been out with friends on their boat. A rogue wave had capsized the boat, and they both died before help could get to them. Fortunately, Francesca’s father had been an active member of the local Rotary service club, and Francesca had been the recipient of a Rotary scholarship which allowed her to finish school. Otherwise, her fate could have been even worse.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” Harry pleaded from the bedroom. “Come out and we’ll talk. Come to Harry, baby. You know I love you.”
Francesca turned off the water and reached for a towel, but there weren’t any. Harry. She started to shake with fury. Thinking of her meeting earlier, she would bet the last few hundred dollars in her bank account that Roz Lawson’s cute husband-to-be never used the last clean towel. Francesca was sure that wherever Roz lived, there was a never-ending stack of sweet smelling, freshly laundered, soft fluffy towels.
She imagined Clark Blackstock took Roz to dinner at the finest restaurants in town, after she’d finished work in her profitable CPA business. She pictured Roz and Clark discussing their extravagant wedding plans over a bottle of fine wine, and congratulating themselves on their good fortune that their no-expense-spared nuptials were being bankrolled by Clark’s rich uncle, Vincent Santora.
Francesca stood shivering and naked in the bathroom, and reached across the basin to rub a patch of steam off the mirror with her hand. She raked her fingers through her tangled, wet locks and regarded her dripping, bedraggled reflection with one part self-pity, and one part self-loathing.
She’d done some research on Vincent Santora when the check he’d sent her arrived, and learned that Clark Blackstock was his closest relative. It didn’t take a genius to figure out when Santora died, Clark would stand to inherit his uncle’s vast fortune. And Roz Blackstock, as she would be by then, would get an upgrade to her life from perfect to utopian.
Staring at herself in the fogged over mirror, something inside Francesca snapped as the cold injustice of her situation struck home. She’d been on the same trajectory to a successful career as Roz, except Roz had made it to the top and through no fault of her own, Francesca had not. She wondered how Roz would feel if their situations were reversed.
There was an answer, and it was quite simple. If Vincent Santora were to die in suspicious circumstances, and Clark Blackstock was implicated, her nemesis Roz Lawson/Blackstock’s life would come crashing down around her pretty, freckled, little ears.
It would be so good to give Roz a taste of what
Francesca had been through. It would be all the sweeter because Roz would have such a spectacular fall from grace. Given the ostentatious wedding she was having, there was no better occasion or opportunity to ruin Roz’s future than on her wedding day. Francesca took perverse pleasure in thinking it was fitting that what should be the best day of Roz’s life, would end up being the worst. For her part, she resolved to execute a dazzling performance in both halves of it. She would make sure Roz’s wedding went off without a hitch, until the tables were turned at the end.
With the decision made, a plot was forming in her mind that made Francesca smile for the first time in a long time.
CHAPTER 6
Theresa Larkin puckered up her lips and leaned closer to the mirror to apply her bright red lipstick. She made a smacking sound as she pressed her lips together several times before standing back to admire her reflection.
In the dresser mirror she could also see her husband, Cecil, standing behind her in their bedroom. His brow was furrowed into a frown.
“Are you sure that dress is suitable for a wedding?” Cecil asked. “It’s a bit revealing.”
Theresa smiled sweetly at her husband. “You’re such an old fuddy-duddy, Cecil. This dress is perfect for the reception. I have a cape I can throw on for the church. Nobody will be looking at me there, anyway. All attention will be focused on the bride, but this dress will be eye-catching for the reception.”
“It certainly will,” Cecil dead-panned. He knew better than to argue with his wife. “I just hope nothing pops out of it.”
“I will ignore that comment, darling,” Theresa said, smoothing the tight skirt of the lace dress over her hips. It may have been a demure gray color, but Cecil was correct that the style was veering toward risqué. With a low, scoop neckline, and sheer gray sleeves, Theresa’s breasts were bunched up and heaving over the top of the too-tight fitted bodice. A sparking crystal necklace contrasted with her pale skin and the dark hue of the dress tended to attract even more attention to that part of Theresa’s body.
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