by Jenna Baker
*****
The wedding was being held at the Fairhaven Hotel in Santa Monica. Ginny was getting married on the beach, and then the reception would take place inside the ballroom. The hotel was modern and chic, and the view was gorgeous.
The valet took my car, and Rose and I walked into the hotel. As Rose ascended the stairs to walk inside, she got more than just a few glances from the male patrons. What was worse was that standing next to her, even as done up as I was, I felt very ugly.
“I’m gonna get us a room,” I said, and I felt several more stares. I imagined that they all assumed I had hired a lady of the evening for myself or that we both were hookers.
We walked up to the front desk and I told them I needed a room for the night. I gave them my credit card and asked for two room keys.
I turned to take Rose upstairs when I heard my mother bellow. “Oh no!” She came running towards me with her arms flailing. “Your makeup is running down your face, Vicky. Did you just run a marathon or something?”
“No the AC in my car is broken, Mom.”
“Well, we need to fix this.” My mother noticed Rose for the first time and looked her up and down. “Who is this? I hope you’re not planning to go to my daughter’s wedding dressed like that, young lady.”
“Dressed like what?” Rose said, leaning in. “Someone your husband would want to play with?”
“Excuse me?” my mother said.
“Mom, she’s not coming to the wedding. This is just someone from work.”
“Honestly, Victoria, no work now, okay? Your sister is getting married, for God’s sake. Your friend here is just going to have to do her job on her own.” My mom addressed Rose. “Can you handle that, honey?”
“I can handle your husband’s member. How about that?”
My mother’s eyes widened and it looked like smoke was about to erupt from her ears. I knew Rose was sexier than me and I knew she was tougher than me, but I also knew my mother was about to blow a gasket. I grabbed Rose by the arm and yanked her towards the elevators. “Come on!”
Rose seemed a little shocked that I had grabbed her, but she followed willingly. She seemed to have a major problem interacting with women. I guess when sex is your best asset you don’t get a whole lot of female friends.
The hotel room was nice, with a water view and a king-sized bed. Rose kicked off her shoes and plopped down on the bed.
“Mind if I order room service?” Rose asked.
“Yeah actually I do. So what’s your plan? You’re just gonna hide out here forever?”
Rose stared at me thoughtfully. “No, I’ll talk to your boyfriend.”
“My boyfriend works at the tanning salon, I told you that,” I said.
“Yeah right. I’m not that stupid, honey. Look I don’t want to go to jail or go back to Mexico, but I don’t want to die either.”
I breathed a sigh of relief and then my producer side kicked in. “I will have to call my crew – all right? The only way we can do this is if I get it on tape.”
“Say what? Are you loco or something? You want me to finger the killer and let you play it on TV?”
“We’ll blur out his face and his name. No one will know who you fingered.”
“Except the guy.”
“Well, he’ll be rotting in jail. You know what we can do? We can do one of those secret confessions where we blur your face and change your voice – how about that?”
“No freaking way!” Rose gasped.
“All right, look. If you do this for me, I’ll talk to the cops, okay? I’ll get them to let you off for cooperating with the investigation. I mean, I’m offering you your freedom here.” I knew I was digging myself a massive hole. I couldn’t make those promises, plus for all I knew, the killer she was about to finger wasn’t the killer at all. But I also knew that my boss was an invited guest at the wedding, and he was going to ask me about the story. Even though my priority was the wedding, I still had to focus on my career just a bit and do everything possible to get my story.
“Okay,” Rose said, finally.
I felt elated inside. “Great. Now I have to go down for the rehearsal – can I count on you to stay put?”
Rose stared at me and smiled as she picked up the phone and asked for room service.
I walked downstairs and headed outside for the rehearsal, but not before I stopped at the front desk and put a freeze on the credit card that was holding my room. I felt like a fool for leaving Rose where I couldn’t see her, but I had no choice.
I pulled out my cell phone and called Reid. “Are you on the way?” I asked.
“Is she there with you?” Reid asked.
“I got a room here at the hotel – she’s in it. She said she wants to ID the killer because she thinks he’s going after her next.”
“This is a lucky break. I’m leaving my house now – I had to find a clean suit.”
“Please tell me it’s a dark color.”
“Black – is that okay?” Reid asked. “I have a navy one if that’s better.”
“No, black is good, I just didn’t want you to show up in beige or something. It’s a beach wedding, but the attire is formal.”
My next call was to Mac. I told him that Rose was in my hotel room and that I needed it fully rigged for sight and sound. I said there was a chance that we might have to blur her face and voice, but we should proceed as if that wasn’t the scenario. I knew I had made a promise to Rose, but it was a dog-eat-dog world, and I would spin any lie I needed to in order to get my story.
Outside, the beach looked amazing. There were about three hundred white chairs arranged chevron-style so that everyone would have a great view of my sister as she came down the aisle, and, later, the couple at the altar. As a set designer, my father had quite a bit of input in the design and the color scheme. They had decided to go with a chocolate brown and olive green color scheme. It was sophisticated yet beachy, understated yet bold. The flowers were peonies and white lilies, and everything smelled amazing. I saw the bridesmaids and the groomsmen all gathered around, and the wedding planner was taking them through the motions, helping them time their walks and letting them know where to stand.
As I approached my mother walked over to me. “I don’t know who that tramp was, but I cannot believe you would associate with such garbage. Why was she saying all those things about your father – is he seeing her or something?”
“No, she’s just trying to push your buttons – push my buttons, actually. Don’t worry about her,” I said.
“We’re divorced and your father can see whomever he wants, but she just seemed very young and very…promiscuous.”
“She’s never even met Dad – would you stop?” I asked.
The wedding planner approached me with a big smile. “And you must be the maid of honor. Maid or matron?”
“Maid,” my mother said. “She’s not even close to being a matron, I’m afraid.”
“For your information, I have a date for this wedding,” I countered. As usual, my big mouth was about to get me in a lot of trouble.
My sister overheard and came scampering over. “Did you say you have a date? Who is it?”
“It’s nobody, just that cop I’ve been working with.”
“Why didn’t you tell me this? I don’t even have a place card for him!” my mother said in a panic.
“Not to worry, Evelyn, I’ll handle this,” the wedding planner said and then spoke into the headset that was affixed to her ear. “I need another place setting next to the maid of honor. Guest’s name is…” She looked at me.
“Oh, Bradley Reid. R-E-I-D,” I said.
“Bradley Reid,” the planner said into her microphone. “And get makeup over here STAT, we have a situation.”
