“Puh-lease…,” Nicole says and takes a sip of her margarita.
“Tell you what, Nicole. I’ll tell Joshua to bring the most practical/well-grounded friend he has.”
“Just as long as he’s not a surfer boy who lives with his mother.”
“Well, you know those surfers are all in pretty good shape.”
“Not all of them.”
“Please….Say you will. I’m dying to see you dressed like Audrey Hepburn. It should be a night we’ll never forget.”
Nicole imagines herself in the mirror wearing a little black dress with long back gloves, and holding a retro cigarette holder. “Okay. I’m game.”
“Hooray! This is going to be so fun.”
“We’ll see.”
Chapter Four
That evening, Isabella hears her cell phone ring as she unlocks her front door. She throws down her purse on the nearest arm chair and rummages through it trying to find her cell. She finally fishes it out of her very large handbag and says, “Hello.”
“Isabella. Hi. It’s Joshua.”
“Hey, Joshua. How’s it going?”
“Great. So have you made up your mind where you want to go on our hot date?”
“Yeah. I have actually. I was thinking that it would be fun to go to a murder-mystery dinner theater.”
“A what?”
“There’s this place in Laguna Beach where actors reenact a murder and the audience has to figure out whodunit.”
“I never heard of anything like that.”
“Don’t you think it would be fun?”
“I was hoping for a nice romantic dinner and then back at my place.”
“Oh, Joshua. Please…I think we would really have a good time.”
“Well, if that’s what you want, we’ll make it happen.”
“Awesome. By the way, some of the audience likes to dress up and be part of the action.”
“Why would they want to do that?”
“It’s fun. Don’t you think?”
“Sounds kinda embarrassing. I hope they don’t expect me to do anything.”
“I’ll make sure you don’t have to. I’ve got your back. Promise.”
“Well…Okay.”
“So, the show is supposed to take place in the 1960’s and I am planning to dress up like Joan from ‘Mad Men’.”
“Who?”
“Don’t you watch ‘Mad Men’? It’s the best show on TV, in my humble opinion.”
“I’ll have to check it out. If you like it, it’s got to be good.”
“You’re sweet. Well, anyway, Nicole and I will both be dressing up to look like we’re from the 1960’s.”
“Nicole is coming, too?”
“You like her, don’t you?”
“Well, yeah; but I was hoping to have you to myself. Isn’t she going to feel like ‘three’s a crowd’?”
“Not if you set her up with one of your friends.”
He exclaims, “So, now you’re saying there’ll be four of us?!”
“Well, hopefully, they’ll like each other so much that they won’t even notice us.”
“Well...I guess…okay…If that’s what you want. I’ll try to think of someone she might like.”
“Yeah. Maybe your most conservative, well-grounded friend. The last time I hooked her up with a writer and she’s still giving me a hard time about it.”
“I think I know of someone.”
“Great! This will be fun! Aren’t you excited?!”
“Whoopee!!”
“Now Joshua, don’t pout. There will be plenty of time later to do what you have in mind.”
“And whatever do you think I have in mind?” he says, using his most sexy voice.
“A little heavy necking?”
“Heavy what?”
“Oh, never mind. You’re probably too young to know about necking. See what happens when you ask a 35 year old woman out on a date?”
“Can I come over right now and you can teach me how you like it?”
“Down, boy. Let’s wait until later. It’ll give us something to fantasize about.”
He groans, “You are killing me, Isabella.”
She’s all business now and says, “Well, I’d better get off the phone so you can make reservations for four.”
“I can’t wait to finally get my hands on you.”
Isabella teases, “We’ll see,” and gives him the phone number of the theater.
“Can I pick you up at your house?”
“Nicole and I will meet you guys there around 7:00. Bye.” She hangs up before he can say anything more.
Chapter Five
On the night of the date, Isabella squeezes herself into a girdle. She read that the women in “Mad Men” all wear foundation garments to cinch their waists and accentuate their hourglass figures. ‘I’m not going to be able to breathe in this,’ she says aloud. After some adjustments, she is able to put on the beige tweed pencil skirt that she’s bought at Nordstrom’s. I hope the zipper on this damn thing doesn’t rip tonight. Not after my most recent zipper fiasco, she tells herself.
She puts on a cantaloupe colored blouse that crisscrosses over her ample bosom. She’s managed to find a gold pen on a long gold chain, like the one Joan always wears as her secretarial accessory. She is just putting it on when her doorbell rings. That must be Nicole, she thinks, and hurries to find her beige stilettos so her friend can see her entire ensemble.
When she opens her front door, Nicole exclaims, “Oh, My God. Where did you get the necklace?”
“At an antique shop in Orange, believe it or not.”
“It’s so Joan.”
“I know. What about the rest of me?” she asks, and twirls around.
“Just perfect! You nailed it!”
Isabella lets out a squeal of delight.
Nicole says, “What about my outfit?”
“So ‘Breakfast at Tiffany’s’! I’m expecting you to get out a guitar and start singing, ‘Moonriver,’ like Audrey did.”
“And my little black dress?”
“Classic. Love the tiara. And the long cigarette holder. Darling, you look marvelous.”
“Thanks!”
“Where did you find those long black gloves?”
“I borrowed them from my aunt. She wore them at her prom. Along with all these pearls I have around my neck.”
“Does your aunt have pictures of her prom?”
“Yes. And everyone teases her about them.”
“I’ve got to see them. I can’t imagine your aunt dressed like that.”
“They are family favorites--that’s for sure.”
*******
Isabella and Nicole pull into the parking lot of the dinner theater. It is in the club house of a small, non-descript 9-hole public golf course. There is a line of people waiting to get inside. Isabella sees Joshua and starts laughing.
Nicole says, “What’s so funny?”
“Look at Joshua in the tie-dyed t-shirt. I guess he must have misunderstood me when I told him that we were dressing like the early 1960’s.”
“Well, you’ve got to give him an ‘E’ for ‘effort’.”
“That’s true. Look at the guy he is talking to. Is that your blind date?” she asks and points to a young man with thick, horn-rimmed glasses and short curly hair who’s wearing cords and a plaid shirt buttoned up to his neck.
“He looks kinda nerdy. I hope he’s not my date tonight.”
Isabella pulls into a parking space and says, “Time to go find out.” She steps out of the car and straightens her skirt, wishing that she hadn’t dined at Krispy Kreme that morning for breakfast.
Joshua sees her and waves. “Showtime,” she tells her friend, as they walk over to meet the guys.
He says to Isabella and Nicole, “Love your outfits. You both look beautiful tonight.”
“Thank you. That’s an interesting shirt you’re wearing,” Isabella says.
“Yeah. Gunther made it for me this morning.” H
e suddenly realizes that he hasn’t introduced his friend yet, and says, “Where are my manners? This is my friend, Gunther.”
Nicole, trying to be polite, shakes hands with Gunther and says, “Where did you learn how to tie-dye?”
“I looked it up on the web.”
Joshua says, “He sews his own clothes. Can you believe that he made that shirt he’s wearing?”
Gunther says to the ladies, almost apologetically, “I just sew in my spare time. I’m a computer programmer at Xerox. That’s my day job.”
“Awesome,” Nicole says and smiles at her friend.
Their conversation is interrupted by a man dressed as a chef. He has a painted-on pencil mustache and holds a whisk in one hand and a brandy snifter in the other. He takes a sip of brandy and says, “Bonsoir, Messieurs and Mesdemoiselles: we are ready for you to come inside now. But first, de Mesdemoiselles must give de chef a peck on de cheek as they go inside.”
The ladies oblige as the crowd slowly makes its way inside. The chef cautions all of them, “One thing I must remind de guests. There will be absolutely no substitutes tonight. Comprendez-vous?”
The people in line laugh. He continues, “If you try to request one, my brother, Henri, will escort you off de premises.” He points to an African-American man, who supposedly is his brother. The chef is Caucasian, and a guest waiting in line snarkily says, with his own phony French accent, “Monsieur, I think you are mistaken. He cannot be your brother, as you say.”
Everyone laughs and Henri says, “Oh, we have a joker with us here tonight. We are going to have to keep an eye on this one. N’est-ce pas?” he says to the chef.
Isabella notices that the man who made the joke is wearing a black suit, a thin black tie, a white shirt, and a fedora. His outfit looks very late 50s. He holds hands with his date, who wears a black and white polka dot dress. Her hair is done up in a French Twist.
Isabella tells herself, Wow! Her hair looks great! I’m going to have to try to fix my hair like that. She’s glad that members of the audience are already playing along with the cast and are “in the act”.
Nicole notices the woman in polka dots and says, “Doesn’t she look like she could be an extra on ‘Mad Men’?”
“Yes, she does. I think they’re on a double date, like we are. Look at the lady they’re with.”
Isabella says, “She’s dressed like Audrey in ‘Breakfast at Tiffany’s’, too.” The lady overhears her and, looking at Nicole, says, “Love your outfit. I think you pull it off better, though.” They both laugh.
The 1980’s era dining room looks fit for a company party. Two ladies wearing berets and long-sleeved black and white striped t-shirts, say “Bonsoir,” to their guests. A man in a tuxedo asks Joshua, “Bride or groom?”
Joshua and Gunther look at each other in confusion and Isabella steps in and say, “Bride.”
“D’accord. Follow me,” the waiter replies.
Once they enter, there is a man playing the piano who’s also wearing a beret. He’s playing “Mon Legionnaire”, a song Isabella recognizes because she’s a big fan of Edith Piaf. As they take their seats, a woman enters, wearing a tight leopard skin dress, elbow length black gloves, and an orchid in her hair. She joins the pianist and starts singing “Mon Homme” in her best Edith Piaf imitation.
Isabella whispers to Nicole, “She’s probably going to be a floozy who’ll want to sit on the laps of the guys in the audience. It seems like every interactive dinner show I’ve heard of has one of those in the cast.”
Henri takes their drink orders, and the ladies in the berets set baskets with slices of warm baguettes on the diners’ tables. Isabella notices a large table in the middle of the dining room that has a three-tiered wedding cake in the center. The “members of the wedding party” enter the room and sit down at the table. The bride still has on her wedding dress, and the groom is in a tux. They speak among themselves, and the chanteuse stops singing and walks over to the wedding table.
She melodramatically says to the groom, “Pierre, what are you doing?! Why did you never call? My heart. It has been breaking!”
The groom looks stunned and says, “Yvette, is it really you?”
The bride clears her throat and says with a Southern accent, “Ahem. You two? Hello? I’m here.”
She is invisible as far as Yvette is concerned. The singer hams it up and says to him, “I’ve been trying to find you. I’m pregnant, Pierre. The child’s father—it is you!”
The pianist plays a few bars, melodramatically.
The bride’s face is frozen in shock. An Arab man walks in and says, “What’s going on in here? Why has the music stopped! Yvette, stop talking to the customers and get back up on the stage and start singing again. You’re not getting paid to chit-chat, you know.”
She says to him, “Hamid. This man, he is de father of my unborn child,” she says, holding her belly like it is precious cargo.
He answers, “I don’t care if he’s the Sheik of Araby. Get back to singing…or else?!”
“You frighten me, Hamid.”
“Good! Now get your derriere back up there and sing, I tell ya.”
“Oui, monsieur.”
She starts singing “Zou Bisou Bisou” and shimmies over to the groom.
The bride is not amused and tries to scare her off with a knife that’s on the table. The chanteuse leaves the groom, circles the room, and looks for men she can sing to and make the groom jealous.
She comes over to Joshua and sits on his lap. She runs her fingers through his hair. Isabella looks over at Nicole. “Didn’t I tell ya?” she whispers to her friend. Joshua seems to be enjoying himself until the singer stands up and looks for other victims in the audience.
Suddenly, the chef comes out of the kitchen, whisk in hand. He is furious and shouts, “Someone dared to ask for de substitutes! That’s it! I am finis! I am an artiste! I will not have my reputation ruined by some…(he pauses for effect)…by some imbecile wanting substitutes! Mon dieu. Adieu. I refuse to cook for Philistines!” He storms out the door.
The audience applauds his emoting and the maid of honor who’s sitting next to the bride stands up and says, “What about the rest of the meal? Are we going to have to make it ourselves?”
Hamid comes back out and says to the audience, “I am so sorry everybody. Our chef has just quit. I’m afraid the cast is going to have to prepare the rest of the meal for you.”
The bride is mock-outraged. “This is supposed to be the best night of my life and look what’s happened. First this floozy is all over my husband and then the chef leaves and I must cook my own wedding supper.”
Hamid says, “I’m afraid so, Madame.”
The cast stands up from the table and throw their napkins down. They follow each other, one by one into the kitchen. Hamid says to the chanteuse, “You too, canary.”
She protests, “What about the piano player?”
“He can stay to entertain the guests.”
She leaves in a huff.
*******
The cast is gone for a short time before they return to the dining room, carrying plates. The chanteuse serves everyone at Isabella’s table. “Are you one of the murder suspects?” Isabella asks her, playing along.
The singer is taken aback and says, “Murder? There’s no murder ‘appening? What do you know? I must keep my eyes on you,” she says, pointing at Isabella, raising two fingers towards her own eyes, and then pointing back at her.
“I’m watching you, too,” Isabella says, playing along, and repeating the gesture right back at her.
The groom and the maid of honor come out of the kitchen yelling at each other. The maid of honor says, “How could you have cheated on me with that singer.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he protests.
“Who else have you been sleeping with?”
“You got it all wrong. I love my bride.”
The bride, who is serving one of the tables says, “Did someone
speak my name?”
Her maid of honor says, “No. Nobody said anything about you.”
“Oh. Okay,” she says, looking confused and beaten down by the turn of events.
The best man feels sorry for the bride and says, “Let me help you with those plates.”
She answers, using her best Blanche Dubois voice, “Why, thank you. I’ve always depended on the kindness of strangers.”
He corrects her, “I’m not a stranger.”
“But I’ve only known you for a few hours.”
“I feel like we’re known each other for years,” he says, looking at her with bedroom eyes.
Isabella notices that the man in the black suit who was standing in line with them has had a little too much to drink. The volume of his talking grows increasingly louder. He stands up and says to everyone in the room, “Let’s have Cristal for everyone. All around. It’s on me.”
Everyone turns to look at him.
“Really?” members of the cast say, looking at each other, puzzled.
He answers, “Yes. Really. Bartender, give us your finest champagne. It’s on me.”
Clearly this is not part of the act, but the bartender says, “Okay. Whatever you say, sir.”
Isabella looks at Nicole and says, “How weird is this?”
Nicole says, “I won’t turn down a nice glass of Cristal.”
“Me either,” Isabella says.
She asks Joshua, “How do you like the show so far?”
He says, “It’s kind of fun.”
“You’re not having a good time?”
“How could I not have a good time in the company of you two lovely ladies?”
That’s the second time he’s mentioned how good Nicole looks tonight. Does he want her or me?
“You look funny, Isabella,” Nicole says. “What are you thinking?”
“Oh, nothing. I’m just wondering who the murderer is going to be.”
They eat their entrees and suddenly hear a scream off in the other room and a lot of commotion. The maid of honor comes out into the dining room and says to the other actors, “Come quick. Something’s happened. I think he’s been murdered!!”
Watchin' The Detective: A Mystery Dinner Romance Page 2
