Page 127 of The Worst Best Man
Jacqueline looked like she was weighing whether or not she should be seen talking to the help.
“Well, enjoy your girl talk,” she said, going nearly cross-eyed from looking down her nose at them. “I’ve got another party to attend soon, so I must say my good-byes.” She swished away in satin and pearls.
“Let’s hope the next one is slightly more tolerable,” Cecily sighed.
“How did Ferris go from you to that?” Frankie asked.Oh shit. When was she going to learn to keep her mouth shut?
“It probably had something to do with her being pregnant with his child,” Cecily mused. “Oops. Family secret. Just pretend I said something really Zen and sweet instead.”
“You’re right. Jacqueline really is atreasure,” Frankie said.
“Oh, Cecily!” A woman in a burgundy shawl waved from her up-close vantage point of a very naked statue.
“That’s a friend of mine. Would you like me to introduce you?” she asked.
Frankie shook her head. “I hope you don’t mind, but I’d rather stay incognito. I’ve only got one more catering gig to go, and it’s just easier if no one knows my… connection to Aiden.”
Cecily nodded. “I understand. Well, it was lovely to see you, and I’m looking forward to dinner tomorrow night.”
“Me, too,” Frankie said. And she realized she actually meant it.
Frankie headed in the direction of the kitchen to get rid of Jacqueline’s dead shrimp. Nothing killed the appetite like someone else’s chewed up food.
“Did you see who Cecily was talking to?”
Frankie heard Jacqueline’s voice coming from a cluster of ladies who were lingering near the bar.
“Who?” someone asked, breathy with excitement over any tidbit of gossip.
“A waitress.”
“Was she getting a recipe?”
“The waitress is her son’sgirlfriend.”
“No!” someone gasped in horror.
Okay, that was a bit of an overreaction. It’s not like she just announced Aiden was eating homeless dogs for breakfast.
“Yes!” Jacqueline announced gleefully. “Like father, like son, I suppose. They both have a thing for the help.”
“Was Cecily a waitress too?” one of the other women demanded.
“Almost as bad,” Jacqueline continued. “She was a secretary or something at the interior design firm he hired to do the house in the Hamptons. Can you imagine? Poor dear always thought we were friends. But that’s what you do to help. You pat them on the head and tell them they’re doing a good job and then count the silver when they leave.”
They cackled like a flock of chickens.
“There goes the bloodline,” someone sighed.
“I suppose I should have told my daughter to get a job at a fast food restaurant or as a janitor when she wanted to catch Aiden’s eye all those years ago.”
Frankie was amazed that the tray didn’t snap in her hand from the pressure she was applying. She did a rapid calculation. Exactly how bad would the consequences be if she beaned the soon-to-be ex-Mrs. Kilbourn in the head with this tray?
Crap. Pretty bad. She seethed.Okay, physical violence was out. But she wasn’t about to let this go.
Frankie grabbed a cocktail toothpick off of the bar and walked into the midst of the hyenas. “There you are, Jackie. You’ve got a little spinach stuck in your dentures,” she said handing over the toothpick. “I’d hate for everyone to be laughing at you behind your back.”
The laughter screeched to a halt. Jacqueline stared at her coldly.
