Sugared

by Gina LaManna

  Tomorrow, my father would walk me down the first half of the aisle. Then, he’d pass me off to Carlos who would bring me to Anthony. It wasn’t traditional, it might not be perfect, but I couldn’t bear to cut either man out of the ceremony. Even Carlos’s grunt of agreement to the plan had been mildly optimistic.

  Next to leave was Clay. I didn’t have to move before he appeared by my shoulder and let out a gigantic sneeze.

  “Ew,” I said pointedly.

  “This place makes me itch,” Clay said, sounding suddenly stuffed up. He’d worn jeans and a hoodie that read Russia across the front—probably a slight jab at my grandfather. The two men, though in a weird sort of truce, never ceased to let go of the battle completely. “I’m freaking allergic to this place. You’re welcome for showing up.”

  “Goodnight, Clay,” I said, giving him a big squeeze. “Thank you for braving your allergies for me.”

  Despite his current lack of enthusiasm, Clay had been excited when we’d asked him to be our best man. Naturally, Meg would be the maid of honor. Bridesmaids would include Vivian, Marissa and Clarissa, and of course, Alessandra.

  Joey and Harold would be standing as groomsmen because, I suppose, they were the closest thing that Anthony had to friends.

  “What time do you want me here tomorrow?” Meg hoisted up a huge doggy bag full of leftovers as she followed Clay down the front stairs. “I’ll leave extra early in case Patty clunks out on me. Unless Anthony wants to chauffer me around in his sexy car.”

  “We’ll see you there at ten,” I said. “Call Nora if you need a ride.”

  Vivian left next, storming out in a screaming match with Joey, with Marissa and Clarissa following closely behind them. The mass exodus continued with a few family and friends that I hadn’t recognized, their invitations courtesy of Nora. Finally, Clay’s friend, Horatio hauled himself home, and that signaled the end of the guests.

  “Are you finished doing my job now?” Harold asked, approaching the door. “I never thought I’d be replaced as doorman of the manor.”

  “Go home, Harold,” I said. “Enjoy your evening.”

  “This is my home,” Harold said, smiling and turning around with his date on his arm. “Let’s go, my dear.”

  I grinned as Harold and his partner, Miss Lizabeth Harriet Morgan the Third, gracefully marched down the hall together. They were accompanied by her tiny dog Poopsie, and judging by the location of Harold’s hand around Miss Morgan’s waist, the pair were very much in love.

  “I’ve been looking for you!” Alessandra stepped into the hallway seconds after Harold had gone. “You are a hot commodity tonight. I haven’t even told you how beautiful you look.”

  “It’s really thanks to the dress,” I said with a laugh. “Thank you for letting me borrow it.”

  Since this week had been chaotic at best, I hadn’t managed to actually make it to the mall. Alessandra had solved the dilemma, offering the use of a particularly gorgeous white summer dress she’d packed for her trip. I’d read between the lines, figuring that she’d planned to wear it once Beckett swooped her away after the ceremony. Now, she no longer had a use for it.

  I glanced down the hallway, but it was empty. “Do you have a second to chat? I wanted to apologize for earlier.”

  “Apologize? I owe you an apology.”

  We stepped outside, lingering on the front lawn out of earshot from any guests roaming the premises. Strolling slowly, we headed toward the tree in the center of the yard, stopping when we reached the shadowy space beneath its branches.

  “You caught me at a bad time last night,” I said, squinting as my eyes adjusted to the moonlight. “I was coming out of the doctor’s office, and—”

  “I know, I feel horrible. You’d just been shot, and you were probably in shock. You hadn’t even told Anthony about it yet, and there I was in your face, trying my best to get you to confront The Zebra with me.”

  “That’s not it—”

  “If only I had turned over the recording to the police, none of this would’ve happened.”

  “I’m pregnant.”

  She hesitated, and then shook her head. “Sorry, what?”

  “I found out from Dr. Gambino. He told me the news yesterday, and I was still processing it when I ran into you. When you started talking about confronting The Zebra, it was just too much stuff all at once. I just wasn’t ready to go out, find The Zebra, and—”

  “Shut up!” Alessandra’s eyes held stars. “I’m going to be an aunt?!”

  “That’s the plan,” I said, grinning as she reached out and clasped my shoulders.

  She let out a whoop of excitement that drew looks from the last partygoers. “Sorry,” she said, lowering her voice. “I’m just so happy for you both!”

  “We’re excited,” I said. “Nervous, but excited.”

  Alessandra tilted her head to the side as she studied me. “You know, I wonder what it would’ve been like if I’d met you—met Anthony—earlier in life.”

  “I wonder that all the time. But, I think we found each other at exactly the right time.”

  Alessandra took my hands in hers, squeezed, and gave me a smile. “You’re right.”

  “And look, everything worked out. The Zebra’s in prison, we have his confession...” I stalled because I realized everything wasn’t okay. Beckett could never come back, and I saw that reflected in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Alessandra.”

  “No, you’re right.” Her lips tightened, a soft smile there. “It’ll be okay.”

  “Well, here...” I fumbled in my pocket, withdrawing the ring we’d found in Beckett’s hotel room. “This belongs to you.”

  She reached out, her fingers closing around it. “A little too late, I suppose.”

  “No, you should have it now more than ever.” I ran a thumb over it. “I hope you don’t mind, but I asked one of Carlos’s friends about this ring. He’s a...uh, professional in the business.”

  “And?”

  I pursed my lips. “The Zebra was right—it’s not worth anything at all. I mean, it is worth something—it’s real amethyst, but it’s not worth millions.” I paused, examining the pretty purple gem in Alessandra’s palm. “I have to imagine it was sentimental to him for some reason. He wouldn’t have gone through the effort to get it to you if it didn’t mean something.”

  She glanced down as she slipped the ring onto her finger. “Thank you.”

  “Lacey, yoohoo! Are you out there? It’s time to come inside,” Nora interrupted, calling from the doorway. “Ready for our sleepover? I hope you know there’s no chance I’m letting you stay with your husband-to-be tonight.”

  “Hold the phone.” A new voice squeaked from the lawn. “Who’s having a sleepover, and why didn’t I receive an invitation?”

  “This is your invitation,” Nora shouted. “Lacey’s staying with me, and the rest of you ladies are invited if you’d like.”

  I poked my head out from behind the tree. “Have you been eavesdropping this whole time?”

  “Patty didn’t start,” Meg hollered from the car. She thumped the dashboard loudly. “I decided not to interrupt. You guys seemed busy. Good thing I stayed, though, otherwise I would’ve missed the invite of the season!”

  “Where’s Clay?”

  “He caught a ride home with Joey.”

  “Come on, it’s time to party,” Nora said. “Everyone inside. This will be a night to remember!”

  I pressed a hand to my forehead. “I love my family,” I murmured. “I love my family.”

  Alessandra snorted with laughter. “Shall we?”

  I hooked my arm around hers and followed as Meg led the charge to the front door.

  “We’re all rounded up,” Meg said. “Where to, Grandma Nora?”

  “Don’t you dare call me grandma,” Nora said. “I’m not that old.”

  A head appeared behind Nora’s. “I don’t want to interrupt,” Anthony said, treading cautiously as he slipped onto the front lawn. “Can I take yo
u home, Lacey?”

  “Sorry, but no. I’m being kidnapped.”

  Anthony raised his eyebrows. “Are we sure that’s a good idea?”

  “Don’t be silly.” Nora shooed him away with spirit fingers. “The bride never stays with the groom the night before the wedding.”

  “Why not?” Anthony glanced between each of us.

  We all stared back, stumped.

  “I never thought of that,” Meg said. “Interesting.”

  “Tradition,” Nora said.

  “It’s only right,” Harold added.

  Heads swiveled toward him. “Harold,” I said. “When did you get here?”

  He frowned. “I work here. I have literally worked in this very location for over fifty years.”

  “Yeah, but I thought you left for the evening.”

  “I tried, but the lack of professionalism here is driving me batty. I had to regain some control.”

  Anthony took advantage of the ensuing silence. “Lacey, a minute?”

  “We’ll be upstairs,” Nora called as Harold began to close the door. “Come find us the second you’re done talking to your studly fiancé.”

  “Talking, yeah right.” Meg hiccupped, probably from one too many glasses of champagne. “Wishful thinking, Nora. You don’t get pregnant by talking.”

  Everyone froze and turned to face Meg.

  She moved in slow motion, raising a hand to her mouth. “I am so sorry.”

  “It’s fine,” I said. “Everyone here knows already, anyway.”

  Harold slowly re-opened the door. “Everyone?”

  “Oops,” I said, wincing. Then, I threw my hands in the air. “Surprise! We’re having a baby.”

  Harold swallowed, adjusted his suit, and then cleared his throat. “Well, congratulations to the both of you.”

  “Thank you, Harold,” I said. “We appreciate that.”

  He blinked, and then stepped forward, extending his hand to Anthony for a shake. Anthony gripped his hand back firmly. Then the two men parted as Harold turned to offer me a stiff pat on the shoulder. It was the most emotion I’d ever seen come out of him.

  “Well, now that everyone knows,” I said. “Can we have a minute alone?”

  Harold nodded, shooed the other ladies inside, and closed the door, leaving Anthony and I standing outside.

  “A slumber party?” he said, glancing behind him at the lawn, now cloaked in darkness. “What happens at slumber parties?”

  “Paint nails, talk about boys, read Cosmo. You’d hate it.”

  “Do you want to stay?”

  “I don’t really have a choice. Do you know my grandmother?”

  “But I’m going to miss you.”

  “I’m going to miss you, too.” I leaned onto my tiptoes. “But I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “When?”

  “At the end of the aisle.”

  I spun around, the white dress twirling under the moonlight. With The Zebra locked away, a note of finality accompanied by a thin layer of peace had descended over us, and I couldn’t help but laugh.

  Anthony caught me mid-twirl in his embrace. I landed in his arms, slightly breathless as I stared into his eyes. Pools of black outlined with liquid moonlight.

  I raised a hand to his cheek. “You’re handsome.”

  “I can’t wait to start the rest of our lives together,” he murmured against my hair. “Again.”

  I laughed and nuzzled against him. His arms guarded me from the chill, protected me from the breeze picking up across the lawn. Goosebumps prickled over my arms, at the back of my legs, but my core, my heart, was warm.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow,” Anthony said, raising me gently to my feet. “Please be careful in the meantime.”

  “Be careful painting my nails?”

  “You, Meg, Alessandra, and Nora,” Anthony said, laden with sarcasm. “What can go wrong?”

  “Goodnight, handsome,” I said, giving his behind a little pat as he walked away. “Sweet dreams.”

  “Hey,” he murmured, turning back at the last second. “Take care of my two favorite people.”

  I smiled, leaned against him, and took in his scent one last time before letting him walk away into the darkness. Then, I turned toward the lights.

  “They’re upstairs in the ballroom,” Harold said, once I re-entered the house. “Have fun! But not too much fun. You’d hate to have puffy eyes for your wedding day. And what about your eyebrows?”

  “Goodnight, Harold.”

  I climbed up the stairs, a sense of rightness settling on my shoulders as I made my way down the hallway. I took my time, looked out every window, ran my fingers along the gorgeous artwork in the hallways. Finally, things had settled. Finally, I could enjoy these moments, the smallness of every second, the grandness of the upcoming ceremony.

  “There you are,” Meg said, ushering me into the ballroom. “It’s about time.”

  I stopped the second I walked through the doors, however, surveying the decorations before me. All of it was sleepover themed—bright and exuberant and over the top. A teenage girl’s fantasy suite. Fluffy pillows, huge, squashy beds, and snacks and drinks and party favors laid out on a long table.

  I looked between three bright sets of mischievous eyes. “What’s going on?”

  “We have an idea,” Meg said. “And I think you’ll love it.”

  Once they explained their idea, I shook my head. “No. I don’t love it. Let’s just stay here.”

  “She’s right,” Alessandra said, stepping forward. “It’s a bad idea. Let’s stay here.”

  “But,” Meg said. “It’s still missing, and we’re sort of responsible for finding it.”

  I put a hand on my hip. “Does anyone have an idea where Beckett would’ve hidden three million dollars?”

  Chapter 29

  I groaned as the elevator glided up to the penthouse once again. “I can’t believe you guys convinced me to come here.”

  “Some people have wild bachelorette parties in Vegas with their friends,” Meg said. “Others go on a quest to find a missing three million dollars.”

  “Just imagine the sort of party you could throw with that sort of dough,” Nora said. “That’s a lot of whirly-twirly fireworks.”

  “We’re breaking into a dead man’s apartment,” I said. “This is not normal bachelorette activity.”

  “No, but neither is taking a cruise on Lake Minnetonka in winter,” Meg pointed out. “And we did that too.”

  “Though it was hard to call it a cruise,” Nora said. “Seeing as how we didn’t actually cruise anywhere.”

  “It was more of a float,” Meg agreed. “We just sort of floated.”

  “A fun float,” I said. “It was a valiant effort at a pre-honeymoon event.”

  “Just to clarify,” Alessandra said, holding up the keycard. “We’re not breaking in anywhere. We have permission from Eric to be here, and we have the key to get inside. Beckett left this for Lacey.”

  “We were supposed to find the ring,” I said, gesturing toward Alessandra’s hand. “We found it, and now you have it. We weren’t supposed to find three million dollars.”

  “How do you know?” Meg asked. “What if he shoved it in the toaster, and you were supposed to find both?”

  “He wouldn’t hide the money in a toaster.”

  “Yeah, and I don’t usually bake rings in my stove either,” Meg said. “But I guess Beckett was a peculiar sort of guy.”

  “It won’t hurt to look.” Alessandra rested her hand against the wall, tapping the key there. “I’ll return the key to Eric next week. We don’t need to hold onto something that’s gone.”

  A somber silence filled the elevator; only the ding of our arrival broke the silence. The doors opened onto the landing and, just like last time, we stepped forward and Alessandra waved the keycard over the lock.

  The lock clicked, but before we could open the door, it swung inward of its own accord. Except this time, the apartment wasn’t empty.
/>   “Oh, crap,” Meg said, her eyes raising to observe the figure standing before us. “This ain’t right.”

  “Eric?” I gaped at The Violet Society member standing before us in only a towel. I averted my eyes, focusing on his face. “What are you doing here?”

  A smile froze on his lips. He held a bottle of champagne in one hand and flowers in the other, and had clearly not been anticipating us. If anything, he’d probably been anticipating some sexy times, or at least a date.

  For maybe the first time ever, Eric appeared speechless. A few petals fell from the edges of the flowers as he squeezed them together too tightly, and the champagne looked to suddenly weigh a ton.

  His arms sagged, his smile drooped. He shook his head several times until eventually, he realized that we weren’t a dream.

  “Waiting for someone, dear?” My grandmother brushed past him into the apartment. “Nice place you have here. We’ll be out of your hair before she—or he, I suppose—arrives.”

  “What are you doing here?” Eric’s tone was a slate of ice. “Why? How?”

  “The how is the easy part,” I said, gesturing toward the keycard in Alessandra’s hand. “We’re not exactly breaking in. You gave us permission to be here.”

  “Yes, and you were already in here. Why did you come back?”

  “Right,” I said, glancing over his shoulder. I stared pointedly at the spot where I’d tangled with The Zebra. “Thanks for cleaning up the mess we made. Hopefully there wasn’t too much blood.”

  “This is where you got shot?” Nora asked, looking somewhat excited. “Maybe we can add this to the list of historic places in Minnesota. I bet we could sell tickets.”

  “Probably not,” I said. “But that doesn’t matter. What matters is why Eric is here in a dead man’s apartment, apparently waiting to entertain a special friend.”

  “Special friend,” Eric spluttered. “Beckett’s apartment, no. Beckett didn’t live here.”

  “What are you talking about?” I asked. “You specifically gave us the key to his apartment.”

  “Beckett doesn’t live here—I live here. Well, I didn’t, but I do own the place. I own several real estate properties in the Twin Cities, and I rent them out to our own.”