A Proposal to Die For

by Molly Harper

Genres: General Fiction; Women's Fiction; Mystery; Female Sleuths; Romance; Contemporary Romance

Synopsis

A fast-paced, witty, and delightful new mystery about a marriage proposal planner whose biggest job yet is threatened by a dead body (or two).

Jessamine Bricker loves a plan. Contingency plans and pros-and-cons lists are her love language, and because of that, her proposal planning business is thriving. But with rent costs rising at her office building, Jess jumps at the chance to plan a proposal between her snobby high school classmate, Diana, and her very wealthy boyfriend, Trenton Tillard…the Fourth.


Roped into joining Diana’s ”pre-bridal” retreat at the exclusive Golden Ash resort, Jess hopes to fade into the background, get some work done, and maybe find some time to unwind. Their first day is anything but relaxing: Diana is furious about the mountain spa’s lack of cell phone reception, the couple next door argues constantly, and Jess swears she just saw a drug deal go down. To top it all off, she’s warned to stay out of the woods by the gruff and sexy chef, Dean Osbourne. Is this a retreat or a horror movie?


As Jess tries to do her job while placating the bride-to-be and her increasingly over-the-top demands, she spends more and more time with the resort owners, finding herself much more in tune with the laid-back Osbourne family than her social climbing “boss.” Between a meditation garden-related drowning and Jess’s discovery of a body in a sauna, it's clear that deadly secrets abound at the Golden Ash. Now it’s up to Jess to unravel the mysteries here in the mountains—before all her plans are cancelled…permanently.

Release date: April 8, 2025

Publisher: Berkley

Print pages: 352

Sample

Chapter 1

Several Weeks Earlier

One never knew when a comically oversized resin clam was going to come in handy, and Jess Bricker happened to know a guy who could procure one for her on short notice. That was why nervous prospective spouses paid Jess top dollar to find rare items like this-items that were somehow vital to their marriage proposals-and then get the hell out of the way.

Standing outside the largest tank at the Appalachian Seas Aquarium, Jess waved at the dive supervisor as he gently placed the faux shell in the tank's seaweed bed. Glittering clouds of fish swarmed around Dive Shop Dave, clearly expecting some sort of food. Dave double-checked that the precious package was inside the shell and flashed Jess a thumbs-up. Those frustrated fish jetted away, unfed.

Shaking her head, Jess stepped back to appreciate the visual scope of her evening's work. She chewed on a full bottom lip that had bid goodbye to its coat of nude rose gloss after her fourth coffee of the day. The aquarium was home to one of the few whale-shark-friendly exhibits in the world. Tonight's (human) guest of honor, Samantha, was an avid scuba diver. Her longtime boyfriend, Gage, had gotten certified on the sly just so he could gift her a private birthday dive with the gentle giants-a big unchecked box on Samantha's bucket list.

The tank's shadowed viewing room was cleared after closing, giving Jess and the aquarium staff time to stage this romantic tableau for the future Mr. and Mrs. Gage Hallidon. Maintenance workers had meticulously scrubbed fingerprints from the tank's thick acrylic, removing all evidence that hordes of elementary school students had herded through only hours before. A sweetheart table for two stood near the tank's front, centered in a pool of rippling blue light. The effect was dreamy and ethereal, enough to make any mermaid's heart go . . . swish?

How did mermaids' hearts go?

"This is not the first time I've said this, but that is a weird question to be asking yourself at ten o'clock on a weeknight," Jess muttered under her breath. "Also, it's a little sad how often you talk to yourself."

The picture was almost perfection, but she hadn't become one of Nashville's best-kept matrimonial secrets by creating almost perfection. Jess picked up her Bluetooth earpiece, careful not to knock any element of the teal and silver tablescape aside. She murmured into the attached lapel mic. "Hey, Bob, the lighting feels a little cold. Anything we can do about that?

"The earpiece cheeped and the aquarium's facilities supervisor replied, "Sure thing, Jess."

Jess smiled as the overhead lights shifted ever so slightly to a warm peachy glow, thanks to colored gels meant to imitate a sunset over the ocean. She closed her eyes, imagining she was the birthday girl and a man like Gage loved her enough to set something like this up for her.

"Jess, Jess, Mermaid is in the cave," Bob murmured over Jess's earpiece. "Repeat, Mermaid is in the cave. Over."

She snorted softly to herself. Bob was really embracing this whole "secret mission" aesthetic. Of course, he was earning double overtime thanks to Gage's generous private rental fee, which bought a lot of goodwill.

"Got it, Bob. Mark this setting and then cut the lights outside the tank so Mermaid can't see the table," she said. The lights clicked off immediately, leaving Jess bathed in the otherworldly marine glow. She smiled, retreating into a recessed alcove near displays that explained the feeding habits of all the animals in the Swimming with Legends exhibit. The angle to see into the tank's overhead maintenance space was spot-on, so she could see Gage and Samantha in full scuba gear. "Countdown to splash-in?"

"Splash-in imminent. Over," Bob responded, just as the couple dropped into the water in a profusion of bubbles.

"And . . . showtime," Jess whispered into the lapel mic, her wide gray eyes tracking Gage's and Samantha's descent through the water.

The next few minutes ran like clockwork. After initially skittering away from the intrusive splash, the fish edged back toward the happy couple as if they'd always been part of the ecosystem. Samantha whirled around like a min-ityphoon, trying to see everything at once through her bright pink scuba mask. And while whale sharks couldn't be trained, technically, the enormous dark silhouette glided through the water behind them as if on cue. Jess signaled Andrew Daysong, a local photographer Jess regularly hired to shoot her clients' events. He stepped forward, discreetly capturing the moment that Samantha practically vibrated with joy under the water. It would be the perfect photo for their future mantel: Gage and Samantha perfectly framed by the tank walls with a whale shark hovering peacefully behind them.

The gargantuan shark turned to avoid swimming directly into the tank wall. Samantha put her hand out and, under the careful supervision of Dive Shop Dave, let it slide gently along the whale shark's side. As the whale disappeared into the recesses of the tank, Gage pretended to notice the clamshell and motioned to Samantha to follow him to the bottom. Samantha fluttered her fins, frequently glancing up to follow the whale shark's progress. Gage reached to lift the fake giant clamshell and Samantha seemed to panic, motioning for him to stop. Jess assumed Samantha didn't want to be kicked out of the aquarium for harassing marine life.

Samantha's hands froze as Gage lifted the resin lid and a seahorse-shaped foam case floated to their eye level. Gage plucked the box from the ribbon tethering it to the clamshell.Samantha's hand started shaking in a whole new way as Gage snapped open the case and presented the tasteful diamond solitaire. Andrew dashed forward to snap a series of photos as Samantha nodded frantically, then tried to kiss Gage. Their face gear clacked together almost audibly, even through the thick acrylic tank wall.

Andrew's camera went into rapid-fire mode, and he flashed a grin at Jess. In all the proposals they'd worked together, it was rare to find a spontaneous moment that charmed them both. It was possible they were becoming a bit jaded. Gage and Samantha kicked toward the surface, even as Samantha seemed to forget how her legs worked.

Within five minutes-as long as Gage followed the carefully timed plan-the happy couple would emerge from the tank, swathe themselves in matching bathrobes, and sit down for dinner for two, serenaded by a string quartet playing soft instrumental selections from The Little Mermaid soundtrack. The musicians-each dressed as a different aquatic creature-appeared from a side door. They quietly took their seats, having tuned up in the Gallery of Jellyfish. Andrew moved into position so that he could capture Samantha's face as she realized that Gage's surprise wasn't limited to the tank.

Jess's cell buzzed in her pants pocket, the vibration echoing through the silence of the exhibit room. Huffing out an annoyed breath, she pulled the phone out to see UNKNOWN CALLER on her lock screen. Jess pressed the "Ignore" button. Even if her beloved grandmother called during a job, Jess wouldn't take it. Distractions at this stage only led to chaos.

Besides, barring a hip-breaking, ambulance-necessitating emergency, Nana Blanche knew to text when Jess was working, not call. The messages were fully punctuated, and each and every one was signed "Sincerely, Blanche Bricker." But she texted.

The number calling was local. Jess frowned at the screen. Could it be the Anellos' lawyers? Anxiety, sharp and cold as December well water, flooded Jess's belly.Jess shook her head, swallowing the lump gathering in her throat. She'd thought she had more time.

Losing her snug matchbox of a rental apartment over the TonyCakes bakery would mean she also lost the adjacent upstairs storage room, which served as-under the strictest of descriptions-the offices for Bricker Consultants, Inc. Upon the death of their patriarch, the Anellos told Jess a few developers had expressed interest in buying the building and turning it into a condo/retail center. Tony Anello's kids were reluctant to further gentrify their little neighborhood and said that ideally, they would like to sell the building to "someone" like Jess. While Bricker Consultants was doing well for a two-person operation, Jess didn't have that kind of money. She couldn't dream of making an offer. The Anellos told Jess it would take the lawyers weeks to work through the estate details if she wanted to think it over. But it wasn't as if a few weeks would magically make "real estate money" appear in her accounts. Maybe the family had reached a decision about selling?"

No. You might evict me, but not today," she muttered, choosing to focus on the positive. Jess was sure she could find some other kindly septuagenarian to offer her a sweetheart rental deal on a comfortable, conveniently located living-slash-workspace in a safe building that felt like home. And always smelled like cake.

Yeah, she was doomed.

Just as Jess shoved her phone back in her pocket, it rang again. UNKNOWN CALLER screamed at her from the screen again. She pressed "Ignore" again, then opened her call list to block the number.Jess had a job to do. She wasn't going to give Gage and Samantha anything less than her best just because she was suffering a minor "Nashville's nightmare real estate market-related" panic attack. She made a decent living, but increased rent was the sort of expense that could crush her business over time.

Shaking off her cobwebby angst thoughts, she whispered into her lapel mic, "OK, Bob, Mermaid is leaving the cave. Bring up the table lights to the previous setting."

Jess signaled the lead violinist, a lanky man who bore playing in a full lobster costume with good humor. He nodded to his fellow musicians. A pleased smile spread across Jess's face as the violins' warm notes filled the darkness.

When Jess came up with the idea for her "consulting firm" years before, this bliss by proxy was the feeling she'd been chasing. Jess had survived three grueling years assisting one of the city's most feared wedding planners before she realized she wanted more. "Feared" might seem like a strange way to describe a bridal industry professional until one considered how many florists Angenette Ellis had made sob into their gardenias over the years. Being mentored by that woman had been like Navy SEAL training, but with more buttermints.

Even as she watched Angenette conjure lush, elegant magic from nothing, it seemed to Jess that so many of these events started with uninspired proposal stories. Jess decided to break out on her own and give her brides (and grooms) a story that showed how loved they were, a story they would tell their children. She used the observational skills Angenette had helped her develop to create grandly romantic moments on a much smaller scale. She picked up details from a couple's story or a photo or conversation and turned them into a scenario that made a proposal perfect. The professional stress levels were still there but seemed less dire when she was controlling her own schedule and workload.

Jess had carved this business out of nothing, creating a network of contacts and word-of-mouth referrals from sheer determination-all while appearing pretty and pleasing to the country club set. It certainly hadn't been easy, and occasionally, the returns were thin, but smiling while swanning through a shitstorm was where those private-school comportment lessons came in handy.

And the results were worth it. Her refusal rates were less than four percent, and according to social media, most of her couples remained married. Just look at Gage and Samantha, starting their life story. And Jess had been able to get in on the ground floor of what should be an epic and adorable tale.

Jess's cell rang. Again. Gritting her teeth, she opened the block feature on her phone-again-and noticed that the tiny print under the number read TILLARD PECANS.

Weird.

While Georgia might produce the most pecans as a state, the Tillard family had made use of hardy pecan species that grew in western Tennessee and maximized their proximity to interstate connections for distribution. Tillard Pecans graced the shelves of every grocery store in America. They were used in holiday dishes and trail mixes and anywhere pecans could be pecan'd.

"What the?" Jess frowned at her screen. She'd never done business with anyone from Tillard's. How did they get her business line number? It could be a telemarketing thing, but she had no idea what they would sell her. It wasn't as if Jess bought nuts in bulk. Sure, she'd attended Harrow University with the heir to the company. Anyone enrolled there was aware of the Pecan Prince, whose family had built the Tillard Stadium, the Tillard Amphitheater, and the Tillard Commuter Parking Lot.

Yes, really.

So while she was aware of Trenton Tillard the Fourth, and they'd shared some business classes, Jess wasn't sure she'd ever spoken to him directly.

Gage and Samantha interrupted this tree-nut-based train of thought by gamboling through the door, dressed in their matching teal bathrobes, embroidered with the aquarium logo for the occasion. They were giggling and kissing like a pair of lovestruck teenagers. Jess signaled the rest of the costumed string quartet, who began playing "Under the Sea." At the sight of the table and the musicians, Samantha squealed with delight and threw her arms around Gage.

"Everything is just so perfect!" Samantha sobbed into his neck, the diamond flashing on her finger. Andrew dutifully recorded this reaction for the custom hardcover album Jess would create as part of Bricker Consultants' Tulip Package. "You must have been planning this for months!"

Jess never got tired of hearing that. Or, rather, overhearing that. She was usually tucked somewhere out of the way to observe her work unfold, uncredited.

Jess quickly blocked the pecan company's number from her phone. As Papa Burt would say, Jess wasn't going to worry about making tomorrow's money today.

As the couple settled at the table, Jess whispered into her lapel mic, signaling the caterers to deliver dinner. She lived for smiles like Samantha's. The look of absolute unfettered joy on Samantha's face as she threw her arms around the person she loved the most, in the moment that she knew his commitment to her was concrete.

Jess breathed deeply, wallowing in this moment of professional fulfillment, however brief.

Sometimes it made Jess a little sad that she didn't have any such occasion in her near future. Marriage wasn't an end-all, be-all guarantee of happily ever after, but it could be pretty nice from what Jess saw in her grandparents. Then again, Jess worked too damn much to have time for dating. And frankly, the men in her social circle were . . .