Page 56 of Danger Close
She looked at me with that single raised brow, her lips in a gentle smirk.
“I’m really sorry. He should not have done that.” My cheeks heated with embarrassment, the warmth spreading all the way to my ears. “He should not have given you an earful, I mean. Or… spent the night. I just don’t want to be a bother. Your hospitality has been more than enough.”
“That's what he said you would say,” she sighed. “It bothers me that I’ve forced you to drink something you don’t even like. Especially when it comes to something as important as caffeine.”
She had a point.
“And as far as the dress shopping, you don’t have a choice. You’ve met our little Ukrainian menace, Daria Savchenko, right?”
Of course, I remembered. She was the one who called Cobra “Daddy.”
My heart flared with a jealous rage that had not been there yesterday. Or if it had, it’d been subdued.
“This wedding being perfect means more to her than it does to the bride and groom.” She let out a fond sigh. “If we’re not at our most glamorous best, there’ll be hell to pay.”
I wondered, fleetingly, if her status as the groom’s best friend was indicative of something… more. Surely, if she was theotherwoman, then she wouldn’t care so much about their wedding. Or maybe it was a ploy? I wasn’t sure.
“Alright,” I said, because it was clear she wouldn’t take no for an answer.
“Good.” Charlotte kneaded dough on the flour-covered u-shaped butcher block table.
“Let me finish testing this wedding cake, but in a couple hours, let’s plan on heading out, okay?” She gestured to the flour, andall the little contraptions around her. Little tubes of frosting, flowers, and sugar leaves. There were assorted fruits, and other edible things that looked far too fancy for my liking.
“Three days until the wedding, and you’re baking them a cake?” I asked, perplexed.
The German Shepherd’s nails clacked on the floorboard as it lumbered to the over-stuffed leather couch, jumping up and turning in a circle before it plopped itself into the corner. It was clear that it washisspot. The open floor plan of the living space really was conducive to communal living. I liked it. It suited Charlotte and Mack.
“Sort of. Kai’s mother is supplying an expensive, tiered cake that’s sure to be white, and perfect.” She smiled, wiping her cheek, smearing more flour on her face. “But Taz and Kai wanted something simple, chocolate. Something nice that had their team logo on it, because that’s what brought them together.”
She shook her head, as if surprised by her own endeavor.
“Your sweet girl mentioned it in passing.” I didn’t miss how she saidyoursweet girl, as if trying to respect a boundary. That she was my daughter, not hers.
It wasn’t necessary, but I appreciated it all the same.
“Trinity’s just getting so brow beaten by Daria, who’s a task master, getting the barn ready, and her future mother-in-law, who’s angry that they’re not holding their wedding at the Ritz.”
As Charlotte spoke, the sliding door at the back of the house opened and shut, her husband entering the room, his boots stomping on the ground.
“I figured I’d make them a cake, something that’s just for the two of them.” Then she looked at me with hope in her eyes. “Are you any good at baking?”
“I’m abysmal at it, I’m afraid.” My mother was a horrid cook, and when I was a model, food was the last thing I thought about. Then I had Trinity and I cooked for the sake of survival.
Her shoulders slumped. “I’ve got a few days to figure out how to do this. So expect to help me eat some cake, because it’s going to take a few tries to get it right.”
“Well, I shall endeavor to be more like Marie Antoinette.”
Charlotte laughed. “Ah, there it is. Now I see where Trinity gets it from.”
The town of Mourningkill was even smaller in the afternoon light. You could see from one end of theprovincialmain street to the other. A row of storefronts existed in the half mile strip, and in that row of buildings was a small storefront full of dresses.
“Does Trinity have colors chosen for the wedding?” I asked.
“They’re going with fall colors, cranberry red, burgundy, and earth tones.”
“Hmm,” I said, as we perused the dress shop of the local town.
I had been skeptical when we entered the store. It was overstuffed with fabrics and naked mannequins.
