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Synopsis
For once, event planner Sophie Winston finds herself a guest at a lavish engagement party, but things go horrifyingly awry when the groom-to-be is fatally poisoned . . .
In Old Town Alexandria’s unlikeliest match, Natasha Smith’s free-spirited mother, Wanda, is engaged to notoriously pompous antiques dealer, Orson Chatsworth—leaving Natasha to plan the entire wedding, beginning with an elaborate engagement party. For the extravagant affair, Natasha splurges on trendy food boards created by rising social media star, Stella St. James. The sumptuous boards go way beyond basic cheese and crackers, as Stella dazzles guests with picture-worthy butter boards, dessert boards, and even doughnut boards. Just as Natasha planned, the food is to die for—until someone actually does.
When the groom collapses, it seems as if a heart attack is to blame. Then guests discover Orson was poisoned, and suddenly Stella’s bespoke boards look a lot less appealing. But with an event this big, the spread of suspects is sure to be impressive. Could Orson’s killer be a jilted ex-lover? A money hungry relative? A bitter former business partner? When even Sophie is not above suspicion, she knows it’s time to get on board and scrape together an investigation of her own . . . before murder becomes the town’s next trend.
Includes delicious recipes, fabulous decorating tips, and easy entertaining hacks!
Release date: May 21, 2024
Publisher: Kensington Books
Print pages: 336
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The Diva Goes Overboard
Krista Davis
On Sunday evening, when other people were settling in and getting ready to start a new workweek, I walked my mixed breed hound, Daisy, to relax after finishing up my busy week. An unpleasant waft of smoke reached me. Most likely from a fire pit in someone’s backyard, I supposed.
As an event planner, I often worked when others didn’t. I had just finished a major convention for the Federation of Pharmacists. They had been lovely to work with and their exhibits were fascinating. It was a major convention and I was ready for some downtime.
The sun had set in Old Town Alexandria, Virginia, but the temperature was perfect for sleeveless attire. The balmy air made me feel summery and carefree. Lights on porches and front doors gleamed on Federal style homes, many of which had been built in the 1800s. Now and then I caught a glimpse of lights strung over a backyard and the sound of laughter.
We had no destination in mind. Mostly, I needed to stretch and unwind, and Daisy needed to get outside and sniff the world. We ambled along until I saw a blaze. In the seconds that it took me to realize that it arose inside a car, it quadrupled in size.
I reached for my phone and called 911. “A car is on fire!” I gave the operator the name of the street and the closest cross street. “Hurry! The flames have moved from the front seat to the back.” I felt completely helpless. There wasn’t a thing I could do about it. Although we were a good distance away, Daisy leaned against my legs as if it scared her, too.
Sirens sounded louder than normal in the quiet night. They passed us and clanged to a stop. In minutes, firefighters had the flames under control.
One of the firemen recognized me and strode over. “I hear you called in the fire?”
“Yes. It was small and then whoosh, it grew so fast!”
He nodded. “Yeah, car fires will do that. Did you see anyone get out of the car?”
“No!” His question worried me. “I hope there wasn’t anyone inside.”
“We don’t think so. We’ll open the trunk and have a look as soon as it cools off.”
I shuddered to even imagine that possibility. I thanked him for responding so quickly and said good night. Daisy and I headed for home.
On Monday morning, my best friend and across the street neighbor, Nina Reid Norwood, and I sat in my garden, drinking tea and eating healthy avocado and egg toast for breakfast. Birds sang overhead in the trees, Daisy and Nina’s tiny fluff ball, Muppet, followed the trails of squirrels with their noses, and the temperature was a blissful eighty degrees. A perfect summer morning in Old Town.
We both noticed when Daisy’s ears perked up and she ran toward the side of my house.
Two minutes later, Natasha Smith, who preferred to be known by her first name, like Martha and Cher, emerged around the corner and collapsed on one of the cast iron chairs at my outdoor table. With all the drama of an old-timey actress, she threw the back of her hand against her forehead and moaned. “Mom is getting married!”
“Wanda? I didn’t even know she was seeing anyone,” I said.
“Can you believe it? My mother is getting married for the second time while I haven’t managed to walk down the aisle once. I’m so depressed.”
“Who is the lucky guy?” asked Nina.
Natasha sat up straight. “That’s the only bright spot in this whole miserable business. She’s marrying Orson Chatsworth.”
Nina gasped out loud. “I thought he was seeing Audrey Evans.”
“Not anymore.” Natasha leaned forward and whispered confidentially, “I hear that Audrey is still chasing him, though. She’s trying to win him back.”
“That’s wonderful! Not about Audrey, but I’m very happy for Wanda. Orson is a really nice man.” I knew Orson because he often attended the galas and fund-raising efforts I handled. He was well-off and reportedly a very generous donor. I had even bought a necklace in Orson’s store, Chatsworth Antiques.
In a breathy voice Natasha added, “He’s loaded. My days of worrying about money are over.”
It seemed to me that might not be the case. Just because her mother was marrying a wealthy man didn’t mean money would trickle down to her. But I didn’t know otherwise, either, so there was no point in saying so. “When is the wedding?”
“That’s where you come in.”
Uh oh. Why did I think this was about to become my problem?
“They planned to go to the courthouse for a civil ceremony, but I’m not having that. Mother’s first wedding was a simple country affair. Seriously, her bouquet was wild daisies that she picked herself. This is a major event and I think it deserves to be celebrated.”
For once Natasha and I were in agreement. But what the bride and groom wanted was the most important thing. If they desired a simple ceremony, then perhaps that would be better. It was their decision. Not Natasha’s.
“They’ve agreed to an engagement party. The only day I could book an evening event at Mosby’s Gardens is Wednesday. It’s not even enough time to send out proper invitations! Apparently, the couple who reserved it a year ago have split up. And now Mother and Orson insist the wedding should be in two months and I can’t find anyplace that can accommodate it. I tell them who I am, but everyone is booked.”
“Natasha, you have to reserve a wedding venue at least a year ahead. Sometimes longer for the coveted places.”
“Would you try, Sophie? Please?”
“I can make some calls, but don’t expect results. Two to three months is hyper speed for a wedding. Your only hope is that someone found a different venue or called off their wedding entirely. I wonder where that other couple planned to marry.”
She heaved a big sigh. “I know you can’t wave a magic wand. But Mom thinks you can work wonders, so I promised I would ask you.”
“Why are they in such a hurry?” asked Nina.
“They’re not exactly spring chickens, Nina.” Natasha shot her a look.
It was actually very sweet. I was overjoyed for Wanda. Her first husband had walked out on them when Natasha was seven years old. Wanda had done her best to support Natasha, working all hours at a diner in the small town where Natasha and I had grown up. Wanda’s life hadn’t been easy, especially with the expenses of the beauty pageants Natasha had loved so much.
Being abandoned by her father had scarred Natasha for life. To this day she continued to look for him. She had even tried searching familial DNA, which had turned up a half sister, Charlene, and their father’s second wife, Griselda. Unfortunately, he had left them in the same abrupt manner in which he had jilted Natasha and her mother. He simply walked out the door one day and never returned. The two free-spirited mothers were very much alike. They had bonded and opened a new-age store in Old Town that featured CBD oil products, crystals, and other trendy items.
“Natasha, you have a lovely backyard,” Nina hinted.
Natasha winced. “Have you seen it lately?”
Nina shook her head.
“Mom and Griselda have turned it into a farm. I put my foot down and said absolutely not, but they ignored me and planted the entire thing with raised garden beds. Corn, peppers, tomatoes, squash, beans, herbs. My beautiful backyard!” she wailed.
Nina’s eyes met mine. I knew what she was thinking. I had a nice backyard, too....
“Besides, it would have to be early in the morning or in the evening when it cools off. I’m sure they’ll be inviting a lot of their older friends. We can’t have everyone collapsing from heat stroke.”
“I’ll make some phone calls and see if I can find a venue.”
“Thank you, Sophie. Um, one other little thing. I need a caterer for the engagement party, but no one is available. I proposed a formal dinner, but Mom insists they want to keep it simple. More of a cocktail thing.”
“You could do charcuterie boards.”
Natasha finally smiled. “I love those! They’re so artistic and pretty when they’re done correctly. But I won’t have time to make enough.”
“Orson’s daughter has a charcuterie board business. It would probably make Orson very happy if you threw some business her way.” I picked up my phone and called Stella Chatsworth St. James. She had created beautiful boards for a party I had arranged for the Ladies of Interior Design. I thought she might jump on it because she’d told me she needed the money. In the middle of a divorce and saddled with expenses for her three young children, she had confided to me that she could use any business, even if it was last minute. After confirming that she could make the boards on such short notice, I handed the phone to Natasha so she could give Stella details on the number of people and what Natasha might like.
While Natasha spoke to her, she gave us a thumbs-up. When she disconnected the call she asked, “Are you sure you can depend on her? Sounds like it’s a new business.”
“She hasn’t let me down yet. You might have seen her work on Instagram.”
“Really?” Natasha’s attitude changed. “I have to check it out.”
“She’s calling her business Style by Stella. I have to admit that she has a good eye. She’ll help people decorate their houses and style their outfits, too. But her biggest business at the moment is charcuterie and butter boards.”
“But that’s exactly what I do!” She thought for a moment before casting a critical eye over my attire of a sleeveless cotton shirt and a skort. “I hope she has better luck convincing you to upgrade your wardrobe.”
I had to admit that her sleeveless leopard print dress was very attractive and definitely many steps above my simple clothing. But breakfast in the backyard with Nina didn’t exactly call for anything quite so elegant. I let her comment slide.
“Thanks for helping me, Sophie. I keep waiting for the third bad thing to happen. But now I think my luck might be changing. You’ve given me an idea.”
“What were the first two bad things?” asked Nina.
“Not being able to get a venue for the wedding came first. What a nightmare. And then Orson’s car burned up.”
Istared at Natasha. “Was that here? In Old Town?” She nodded. “Just last night. They think it was arson. Can you even imagine? Why would anyone set a car on fire?”
“I saw it. I’m the one who called nine-one-one. I had no idea it belonged to Orson. How odd.”
“I know! Trouble comes in threes, so there’s bound to be something else. I’m treading carefully.”
“That’s just nonsense, Natasha. You can find three of anything if you look hard enough.” Nina tilted her head and smiled.
“Oh, Nina, you’re such an innocent. It’s absolutely true. The week my father left, I broke my arm, our roof started leaking, and then he was gone. Trouble always comes in threes.”
When they left, I called Daisy inside, poured myself a mug of tea, and retreated to my small home office to work. While I was looking for a caterer for an event in December, I happened upon Colin Warren’s card. I had seen him at the fund-raising dinner for the arts and he’d told me about a building he was restoring in Old Town for events. It had an address on Washington Street.
An hour later, I walked over to see how they were coming. It might be just the ticket for Wanda’s wedding and they might not be fully booked yet.
I swung open a tall glass door and entered a white marble foyer that needed a little work but was nearly finished. Hammering and occasional shouts came from deeper in the building. Watching my step, I opened another door and peered into an expansive room. The ceiling was two stories high, and a balcony ran all the way around the second floor.
“Hey! You two on the scaffolding,” shouted an older man. “What did I tell you about taking shortcuts? You’re a bunch of dimwits. Do I have to come up there and do it myself?”
The young men on the scaffolding were red-faced. They glanced in my direction, which caused the man to turn around. “Who are you?” he blasted.
“Is Colin Warren here?”
He pointed toward the door. “Only work crew is allowed back here and I don’t see you carrying a hammer.”
I was a little taken aback by his hostility. I reached out my hand to shake his. “I’m Sophie Winston. I’m an event planner.”
He ignored my hand and grumbled, “Can’t you see we’re busy? Unless you’re carrying a nail gun in that purse, I’m not interested.”
I pulled Colin’s business card from my pocket and flashed it at him.
“I don’t want your fancy business card. Now scram!”
I didn’t know who the old guy was, but he wasn’t doing Colin any favors. I would have to phone Colin.
I turned without another word and was leaving the room when Colin spied me from the foyer. “Sophie!”
“Hi, Colin. You’re just the man I came to see. The building looks great. It will be a wonderful venue.”
“Thanks. We’re scheduled to open our doors in two weeks.”
“Are you booking events yet?”
“I hope you’ll be the first.”
“Natasha’s mother is getting married and they’re having an awful time finding a venue that isn’t booked.”
“Natasha? Wow! That would be great. Think she would feature it on her TV show?”
“I think that could be arranged. I’ll give her your number and the two of you can choose the date and set it up.”
“I owe you, Sophie. This is better than I could have hoped for. I’ve been trying to come up with an opening event that would be incredible, and I think this might be it. Natasha will go all out.”
The old man started shouting again in the grand room behind us. Even the closed doors couldn’t squelch his hostile rant.
Colin winced. “Sorry about that. My uncle is old school. He knows his stuff better than anyone about building, but he came up the hard way and yelling is how he deals with people.”
“That’s sad.”
“Aw, don’t feel sorry for him. This place isn’t just my dream come true. Uncle Terry moved here to reconstruct this building. I’m saving a ton of money by having him do it. We’re trying to preserve the Old Town style that everyone loves so much, and he knows how to build things the old way. No cutting corners or using cheap plastic replicas. The younger guys groan about it, but he hired a slew of old characters to show them how to get it right. He doesn’t show it, but he’s about the happiest I’ve ever seen him.”
“You’re lucky to have him then. It’s wonderful when family is supportive.”
“If I could only get him to turn it down a little bit.” Colin shook his head. “You know what they say about a sow’s ear. He doesn’t mean anything by it. It’s just how he is.”
“It looks wonderful. I’ll have Natasha call you.” I left in haste and hoped his uncle wouldn’t be a regular fixture yelling at guests.
I made two people happy that day. When I called Natasha and gave her the information she was overjoyed.
The rest of the day passed calmly. I worked from home, scheduling events, hiring caterers, booking venues, and writing responses to questions for my newspaper column. There was no mention in the paper or on the news about the car that had burned. I guessed that meant they hadn’t found anyone in the trunk. That was a relief!
In the late afternoon on Wednesday, I dressed in a soft rose-colored sheath with glitsy sandals that did not have high heels that would poke into the grass. Nina and I met on the sidewalk for the short stroll to Mosby’s Gardens, a beautiful event site full of blooms and sprawling lawns. The house that adjoined it had been outfitted for catering. A glamorous gated entrance led to the fenced garden.
The heat had begun to abate, making the outdoors more tolerable, if still quite humid. I thought Orson and Wanda must have been pleased with Natasha’s selection. Annabelle hydrangeas bloomed profusely, their huge white flowers dominating the landscape. Rose-colored hibiscus plants were shorter than the hydrangeas, but bright and cheerful. Tall purple and pink crepe myrtles lined the interior of the fence, and all along the walkways, brown-eyed Susans, petunias, and impatiens added more color. Guests already mingled in the lovely gardens and sat on the benches. A violin quartet played on a knoll.
My ex-husband, Mars Winston, strode up with our friend, Bernie Frei. Mars, a political advisor, had an uncanny ability to look at home wherever he was, equally comfortable on a farmhouse porch as he was with high-powered clients in elegant offices. He’d been blessed with an appealing face and a calm manner about him.
Bernie had been the best man at my wedding to Mars. Born in England, he still spoke with a charming British accent. Bernie had traveled the world footloose and fancy free for a long time. We had never expected him to settle down in Old Town. But our friend with the kink in his nose where it had been broken, and sandy hair that looked like he’d just rolled out of bed, had made The Laughing Hound, a local restaurant, into a popular destination in Old Town. He never flaunted his success and told most people that he only managed the place when he actually owned it. I gave him kudos for remaining the same fun guy he had always been.
Natasha looked fabulous. Her dark hair had been swept back into an elegant chignon. She could have been a model in a gauzy robin’s-egg-blue gown that seemed to float around her. Her half sister, Charlene, had dressed in a black fit and flare dress. The resemblance was uncanny. Charlene wasn’t as tall or thin as Natasha, but the raven hair, facial shape, and brown eyes were remarkably similar.
I knew most of the people who were present. It was like a who’s who of Old Town.
Wanda had never looked happier. She wore a bright blue, floor-length, patchwork print dress in a delicate fabric. It was the first time I had seen Wanda in makeup. I was willing to bet that she and Natasha had squabbled about that. It accentuated Wanda’s wrinkles when she smiled, and she was doing a whole lot of smiling. She wore her silver-white hair in a pixie cut, which suited both her face and her personality.
Wanda drifted over to us with Orson in tow. “I’m so glad you came! You kids are like family to me. Have you all met Orson?”
We showered them with congratulations and hugged Wanda.
“Of course, I know Sophie well,” said Orson, leaning over to kiss my cheek. “She’s tops when it comes to organizing galas. And Bernie runs the best restaurant in town.”
Bernie blushed. “Orson is one of our favorite customers.”
Orson eyed Nina. “And I know you from the animal shelter where I got Rosebud, my best friend. Next to Wanda, of course,” he hastened to add.
“Mars is in politics,” said Wanda. “He was married to Sophie and then he”—she stumbled over the next word—“dated my Natasha.”
Orson chuckled. “This must be a little bit uncomfortable for you.”
Mars grinned. “Not a bit. Besides, I wouldn’t have missed a celebration for Wanda.”
At that moment, a boisterous man approached Orson and Wanda.
Orson slugged back the drink he held in his hand as if he needed strength to deal with the man.
Bernie cocked his head away from them, and we followed him along a flower-lined path.
“Boy, you beat a hasty exit. Who is that man?” asked Nina.
“Karl Roth. We try to seat him in a nook when he comes to the Laughing Hound. He’s obnoxiously loud and opinionated. I’ve often wondered if he has a hearing issue. He’s also a lousy tipper, according to my servers.”
I laughed at him. “You know the scoop about everyone.”
“You wouldn’t believe how my servers gossip about who does and doesn’t tip well.”
Tripp Fogarty walked by us holding an empty tray. He wore a typical waiter’s uniform of black trousers, white shirt, and black vest. I knew him from one of the art galleries in town.
“Sophie!” he said in a surprised tone.
“Hi, Tripp. Have you quit the art gallery?”
“No.” He lowered his voice. “But it doesn’t pay very well. I moonlight for caterers now and then. Hmm. You folks don’t have any drinks. I’ll send someone right over.”
He hurried on his way, and I saw him direct a server with a tray full of drinks in our direction.
The server approached us. “Lavender lemonade? It’s the couple’s signature drink, designed by the bride’s daughter. We also have a mocktail version for those who would prefer.”
“Mocktail? What’s that?” asked Mars.
Each of us took a glass.
“Mocktails are alcohol-free,” explained the server before he moved on.
“All the flavor but none of the booze,” said Bernie. “They’re the current rage.”
A short time later, Orson sought me out. “Sophie, may I have a word with you?”
“Yes. Of course.” I stepped away from my friends. “But I’m not handling the wedding. Natasha is in charge of that. I wouldn’t dare tread on her territory,” I joked.
Orson laughed. “Don’t I know it! No, no, it has nothing to do with the wedding. That’s up to Wanda and Nat. . .
As an event planner, I often worked when others didn’t. I had just finished a major convention for the Federation of Pharmacists. They had been lovely to work with and their exhibits were fascinating. It was a major convention and I was ready for some downtime.
The sun had set in Old Town Alexandria, Virginia, but the temperature was perfect for sleeveless attire. The balmy air made me feel summery and carefree. Lights on porches and front doors gleamed on Federal style homes, many of which had been built in the 1800s. Now and then I caught a glimpse of lights strung over a backyard and the sound of laughter.
We had no destination in mind. Mostly, I needed to stretch and unwind, and Daisy needed to get outside and sniff the world. We ambled along until I saw a blaze. In the seconds that it took me to realize that it arose inside a car, it quadrupled in size.
I reached for my phone and called 911. “A car is on fire!” I gave the operator the name of the street and the closest cross street. “Hurry! The flames have moved from the front seat to the back.” I felt completely helpless. There wasn’t a thing I could do about it. Although we were a good distance away, Daisy leaned against my legs as if it scared her, too.
Sirens sounded louder than normal in the quiet night. They passed us and clanged to a stop. In minutes, firefighters had the flames under control.
One of the firemen recognized me and strode over. “I hear you called in the fire?”
“Yes. It was small and then whoosh, it grew so fast!”
He nodded. “Yeah, car fires will do that. Did you see anyone get out of the car?”
“No!” His question worried me. “I hope there wasn’t anyone inside.”
“We don’t think so. We’ll open the trunk and have a look as soon as it cools off.”
I shuddered to even imagine that possibility. I thanked him for responding so quickly and said good night. Daisy and I headed for home.
On Monday morning, my best friend and across the street neighbor, Nina Reid Norwood, and I sat in my garden, drinking tea and eating healthy avocado and egg toast for breakfast. Birds sang overhead in the trees, Daisy and Nina’s tiny fluff ball, Muppet, followed the trails of squirrels with their noses, and the temperature was a blissful eighty degrees. A perfect summer morning in Old Town.
We both noticed when Daisy’s ears perked up and she ran toward the side of my house.
Two minutes later, Natasha Smith, who preferred to be known by her first name, like Martha and Cher, emerged around the corner and collapsed on one of the cast iron chairs at my outdoor table. With all the drama of an old-timey actress, she threw the back of her hand against her forehead and moaned. “Mom is getting married!”
“Wanda? I didn’t even know she was seeing anyone,” I said.
“Can you believe it? My mother is getting married for the second time while I haven’t managed to walk down the aisle once. I’m so depressed.”
“Who is the lucky guy?” asked Nina.
Natasha sat up straight. “That’s the only bright spot in this whole miserable business. She’s marrying Orson Chatsworth.”
Nina gasped out loud. “I thought he was seeing Audrey Evans.”
“Not anymore.” Natasha leaned forward and whispered confidentially, “I hear that Audrey is still chasing him, though. She’s trying to win him back.”
“That’s wonderful! Not about Audrey, but I’m very happy for Wanda. Orson is a really nice man.” I knew Orson because he often attended the galas and fund-raising efforts I handled. He was well-off and reportedly a very generous donor. I had even bought a necklace in Orson’s store, Chatsworth Antiques.
In a breathy voice Natasha added, “He’s loaded. My days of worrying about money are over.”
It seemed to me that might not be the case. Just because her mother was marrying a wealthy man didn’t mean money would trickle down to her. But I didn’t know otherwise, either, so there was no point in saying so. “When is the wedding?”
“That’s where you come in.”
Uh oh. Why did I think this was about to become my problem?
“They planned to go to the courthouse for a civil ceremony, but I’m not having that. Mother’s first wedding was a simple country affair. Seriously, her bouquet was wild daisies that she picked herself. This is a major event and I think it deserves to be celebrated.”
For once Natasha and I were in agreement. But what the bride and groom wanted was the most important thing. If they desired a simple ceremony, then perhaps that would be better. It was their decision. Not Natasha’s.
“They’ve agreed to an engagement party. The only day I could book an evening event at Mosby’s Gardens is Wednesday. It’s not even enough time to send out proper invitations! Apparently, the couple who reserved it a year ago have split up. And now Mother and Orson insist the wedding should be in two months and I can’t find anyplace that can accommodate it. I tell them who I am, but everyone is booked.”
“Natasha, you have to reserve a wedding venue at least a year ahead. Sometimes longer for the coveted places.”
“Would you try, Sophie? Please?”
“I can make some calls, but don’t expect results. Two to three months is hyper speed for a wedding. Your only hope is that someone found a different venue or called off their wedding entirely. I wonder where that other couple planned to marry.”
She heaved a big sigh. “I know you can’t wave a magic wand. But Mom thinks you can work wonders, so I promised I would ask you.”
“Why are they in such a hurry?” asked Nina.
“They’re not exactly spring chickens, Nina.” Natasha shot her a look.
It was actually very sweet. I was overjoyed for Wanda. Her first husband had walked out on them when Natasha was seven years old. Wanda had done her best to support Natasha, working all hours at a diner in the small town where Natasha and I had grown up. Wanda’s life hadn’t been easy, especially with the expenses of the beauty pageants Natasha had loved so much.
Being abandoned by her father had scarred Natasha for life. To this day she continued to look for him. She had even tried searching familial DNA, which had turned up a half sister, Charlene, and their father’s second wife, Griselda. Unfortunately, he had left them in the same abrupt manner in which he had jilted Natasha and her mother. He simply walked out the door one day and never returned. The two free-spirited mothers were very much alike. They had bonded and opened a new-age store in Old Town that featured CBD oil products, crystals, and other trendy items.
“Natasha, you have a lovely backyard,” Nina hinted.
Natasha winced. “Have you seen it lately?”
Nina shook her head.
“Mom and Griselda have turned it into a farm. I put my foot down and said absolutely not, but they ignored me and planted the entire thing with raised garden beds. Corn, peppers, tomatoes, squash, beans, herbs. My beautiful backyard!” she wailed.
Nina’s eyes met mine. I knew what she was thinking. I had a nice backyard, too....
“Besides, it would have to be early in the morning or in the evening when it cools off. I’m sure they’ll be inviting a lot of their older friends. We can’t have everyone collapsing from heat stroke.”
“I’ll make some phone calls and see if I can find a venue.”
“Thank you, Sophie. Um, one other little thing. I need a caterer for the engagement party, but no one is available. I proposed a formal dinner, but Mom insists they want to keep it simple. More of a cocktail thing.”
“You could do charcuterie boards.”
Natasha finally smiled. “I love those! They’re so artistic and pretty when they’re done correctly. But I won’t have time to make enough.”
“Orson’s daughter has a charcuterie board business. It would probably make Orson very happy if you threw some business her way.” I picked up my phone and called Stella Chatsworth St. James. She had created beautiful boards for a party I had arranged for the Ladies of Interior Design. I thought she might jump on it because she’d told me she needed the money. In the middle of a divorce and saddled with expenses for her three young children, she had confided to me that she could use any business, even if it was last minute. After confirming that she could make the boards on such short notice, I handed the phone to Natasha so she could give Stella details on the number of people and what Natasha might like.
While Natasha spoke to her, she gave us a thumbs-up. When she disconnected the call she asked, “Are you sure you can depend on her? Sounds like it’s a new business.”
“She hasn’t let me down yet. You might have seen her work on Instagram.”
“Really?” Natasha’s attitude changed. “I have to check it out.”
“She’s calling her business Style by Stella. I have to admit that she has a good eye. She’ll help people decorate their houses and style their outfits, too. But her biggest business at the moment is charcuterie and butter boards.”
“But that’s exactly what I do!” She thought for a moment before casting a critical eye over my attire of a sleeveless cotton shirt and a skort. “I hope she has better luck convincing you to upgrade your wardrobe.”
I had to admit that her sleeveless leopard print dress was very attractive and definitely many steps above my simple clothing. But breakfast in the backyard with Nina didn’t exactly call for anything quite so elegant. I let her comment slide.
“Thanks for helping me, Sophie. I keep waiting for the third bad thing to happen. But now I think my luck might be changing. You’ve given me an idea.”
“What were the first two bad things?” asked Nina.
“Not being able to get a venue for the wedding came first. What a nightmare. And then Orson’s car burned up.”
Istared at Natasha. “Was that here? In Old Town?” She nodded. “Just last night. They think it was arson. Can you even imagine? Why would anyone set a car on fire?”
“I saw it. I’m the one who called nine-one-one. I had no idea it belonged to Orson. How odd.”
“I know! Trouble comes in threes, so there’s bound to be something else. I’m treading carefully.”
“That’s just nonsense, Natasha. You can find three of anything if you look hard enough.” Nina tilted her head and smiled.
“Oh, Nina, you’re such an innocent. It’s absolutely true. The week my father left, I broke my arm, our roof started leaking, and then he was gone. Trouble always comes in threes.”
When they left, I called Daisy inside, poured myself a mug of tea, and retreated to my small home office to work. While I was looking for a caterer for an event in December, I happened upon Colin Warren’s card. I had seen him at the fund-raising dinner for the arts and he’d told me about a building he was restoring in Old Town for events. It had an address on Washington Street.
An hour later, I walked over to see how they were coming. It might be just the ticket for Wanda’s wedding and they might not be fully booked yet.
I swung open a tall glass door and entered a white marble foyer that needed a little work but was nearly finished. Hammering and occasional shouts came from deeper in the building. Watching my step, I opened another door and peered into an expansive room. The ceiling was two stories high, and a balcony ran all the way around the second floor.
“Hey! You two on the scaffolding,” shouted an older man. “What did I tell you about taking shortcuts? You’re a bunch of dimwits. Do I have to come up there and do it myself?”
The young men on the scaffolding were red-faced. They glanced in my direction, which caused the man to turn around. “Who are you?” he blasted.
“Is Colin Warren here?”
He pointed toward the door. “Only work crew is allowed back here and I don’t see you carrying a hammer.”
I was a little taken aback by his hostility. I reached out my hand to shake his. “I’m Sophie Winston. I’m an event planner.”
He ignored my hand and grumbled, “Can’t you see we’re busy? Unless you’re carrying a nail gun in that purse, I’m not interested.”
I pulled Colin’s business card from my pocket and flashed it at him.
“I don’t want your fancy business card. Now scram!”
I didn’t know who the old guy was, but he wasn’t doing Colin any favors. I would have to phone Colin.
I turned without another word and was leaving the room when Colin spied me from the foyer. “Sophie!”
“Hi, Colin. You’re just the man I came to see. The building looks great. It will be a wonderful venue.”
“Thanks. We’re scheduled to open our doors in two weeks.”
“Are you booking events yet?”
“I hope you’ll be the first.”
“Natasha’s mother is getting married and they’re having an awful time finding a venue that isn’t booked.”
“Natasha? Wow! That would be great. Think she would feature it on her TV show?”
“I think that could be arranged. I’ll give her your number and the two of you can choose the date and set it up.”
“I owe you, Sophie. This is better than I could have hoped for. I’ve been trying to come up with an opening event that would be incredible, and I think this might be it. Natasha will go all out.”
The old man started shouting again in the grand room behind us. Even the closed doors couldn’t squelch his hostile rant.
Colin winced. “Sorry about that. My uncle is old school. He knows his stuff better than anyone about building, but he came up the hard way and yelling is how he deals with people.”
“That’s sad.”
“Aw, don’t feel sorry for him. This place isn’t just my dream come true. Uncle Terry moved here to reconstruct this building. I’m saving a ton of money by having him do it. We’re trying to preserve the Old Town style that everyone loves so much, and he knows how to build things the old way. No cutting corners or using cheap plastic replicas. The younger guys groan about it, but he hired a slew of old characters to show them how to get it right. He doesn’t show it, but he’s about the happiest I’ve ever seen him.”
“You’re lucky to have him then. It’s wonderful when family is supportive.”
“If I could only get him to turn it down a little bit.” Colin shook his head. “You know what they say about a sow’s ear. He doesn’t mean anything by it. It’s just how he is.”
“It looks wonderful. I’ll have Natasha call you.” I left in haste and hoped his uncle wouldn’t be a regular fixture yelling at guests.
I made two people happy that day. When I called Natasha and gave her the information she was overjoyed.
The rest of the day passed calmly. I worked from home, scheduling events, hiring caterers, booking venues, and writing responses to questions for my newspaper column. There was no mention in the paper or on the news about the car that had burned. I guessed that meant they hadn’t found anyone in the trunk. That was a relief!
In the late afternoon on Wednesday, I dressed in a soft rose-colored sheath with glitsy sandals that did not have high heels that would poke into the grass. Nina and I met on the sidewalk for the short stroll to Mosby’s Gardens, a beautiful event site full of blooms and sprawling lawns. The house that adjoined it had been outfitted for catering. A glamorous gated entrance led to the fenced garden.
The heat had begun to abate, making the outdoors more tolerable, if still quite humid. I thought Orson and Wanda must have been pleased with Natasha’s selection. Annabelle hydrangeas bloomed profusely, their huge white flowers dominating the landscape. Rose-colored hibiscus plants were shorter than the hydrangeas, but bright and cheerful. Tall purple and pink crepe myrtles lined the interior of the fence, and all along the walkways, brown-eyed Susans, petunias, and impatiens added more color. Guests already mingled in the lovely gardens and sat on the benches. A violin quartet played on a knoll.
My ex-husband, Mars Winston, strode up with our friend, Bernie Frei. Mars, a political advisor, had an uncanny ability to look at home wherever he was, equally comfortable on a farmhouse porch as he was with high-powered clients in elegant offices. He’d been blessed with an appealing face and a calm manner about him.
Bernie had been the best man at my wedding to Mars. Born in England, he still spoke with a charming British accent. Bernie had traveled the world footloose and fancy free for a long time. We had never expected him to settle down in Old Town. But our friend with the kink in his nose where it had been broken, and sandy hair that looked like he’d just rolled out of bed, had made The Laughing Hound, a local restaurant, into a popular destination in Old Town. He never flaunted his success and told most people that he only managed the place when he actually owned it. I gave him kudos for remaining the same fun guy he had always been.
Natasha looked fabulous. Her dark hair had been swept back into an elegant chignon. She could have been a model in a gauzy robin’s-egg-blue gown that seemed to float around her. Her half sister, Charlene, had dressed in a black fit and flare dress. The resemblance was uncanny. Charlene wasn’t as tall or thin as Natasha, but the raven hair, facial shape, and brown eyes were remarkably similar.
I knew most of the people who were present. It was like a who’s who of Old Town.
Wanda had never looked happier. She wore a bright blue, floor-length, patchwork print dress in a delicate fabric. It was the first time I had seen Wanda in makeup. I was willing to bet that she and Natasha had squabbled about that. It accentuated Wanda’s wrinkles when she smiled, and she was doing a whole lot of smiling. She wore her silver-white hair in a pixie cut, which suited both her face and her personality.
Wanda drifted over to us with Orson in tow. “I’m so glad you came! You kids are like family to me. Have you all met Orson?”
We showered them with congratulations and hugged Wanda.
“Of course, I know Sophie well,” said Orson, leaning over to kiss my cheek. “She’s tops when it comes to organizing galas. And Bernie runs the best restaurant in town.”
Bernie blushed. “Orson is one of our favorite customers.”
Orson eyed Nina. “And I know you from the animal shelter where I got Rosebud, my best friend. Next to Wanda, of course,” he hastened to add.
“Mars is in politics,” said Wanda. “He was married to Sophie and then he”—she stumbled over the next word—“dated my Natasha.”
Orson chuckled. “This must be a little bit uncomfortable for you.”
Mars grinned. “Not a bit. Besides, I wouldn’t have missed a celebration for Wanda.”
At that moment, a boisterous man approached Orson and Wanda.
Orson slugged back the drink he held in his hand as if he needed strength to deal with the man.
Bernie cocked his head away from them, and we followed him along a flower-lined path.
“Boy, you beat a hasty exit. Who is that man?” asked Nina.
“Karl Roth. We try to seat him in a nook when he comes to the Laughing Hound. He’s obnoxiously loud and opinionated. I’ve often wondered if he has a hearing issue. He’s also a lousy tipper, according to my servers.”
I laughed at him. “You know the scoop about everyone.”
“You wouldn’t believe how my servers gossip about who does and doesn’t tip well.”
Tripp Fogarty walked by us holding an empty tray. He wore a typical waiter’s uniform of black trousers, white shirt, and black vest. I knew him from one of the art galleries in town.
“Sophie!” he said in a surprised tone.
“Hi, Tripp. Have you quit the art gallery?”
“No.” He lowered his voice. “But it doesn’t pay very well. I moonlight for caterers now and then. Hmm. You folks don’t have any drinks. I’ll send someone right over.”
He hurried on his way, and I saw him direct a server with a tray full of drinks in our direction.
The server approached us. “Lavender lemonade? It’s the couple’s signature drink, designed by the bride’s daughter. We also have a mocktail version for those who would prefer.”
“Mocktail? What’s that?” asked Mars.
Each of us took a glass.
“Mocktails are alcohol-free,” explained the server before he moved on.
“All the flavor but none of the booze,” said Bernie. “They’re the current rage.”
A short time later, Orson sought me out. “Sophie, may I have a word with you?”
“Yes. Of course.” I stepped away from my friends. “But I’m not handling the wedding. Natasha is in charge of that. I wouldn’t dare tread on her territory,” I joked.
Orson laughed. “Don’t I know it! No, no, it has nothing to do with the wedding. That’s up to Wanda and Nat. . .
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The Diva Goes Overboard
Krista Davis
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