Methods of Malice, page 2
“A castle?”
“You’ll have to ask her.” Maggie Lee shook her head.
Cooper was silent, but her thoughts were having a field day. Ashley Lee Love had a serious case of the one-ups. With her husband’s income, she could well afford an outrageous birthday event for Hannah. But just because all the other mommies that lived in the elite River Road corridor did, didn’t mean her sister should.
Ashley and her highfalutin lifestyle are none of my business, Cooper reminded herself and worked to change the subject.
“Did I tell you that the entire Sunrise Bible study is in the theater production?”
“That’s amazing.” Maggie reached for a roll of parchment paper and lined a cookie sheet in one swift, efficient movement. “How are things going?”
Cooper stood and headed to the coffee pot for a refill. “Trish said ticket sales are way up. She suspects the shows will sell out.”
“And how will you juggle rehearsals with your day job?”
“It’s not a problem. Rehearsals are scheduled for evenings and Saturdays.” When the oven beeped, Cooper sniffed the air and her stomach growled. “Do I smell bacon?”
“Yes. I’m working on the hors d’oeuvres menu for the theater mixer tonight.”
“The theater mixer?” Perplexed, Cooper glanced at her mother. “I didn’t realize Trish asked you.”
“No? Well, you haven’t exactly been around lately.” Maggie gently elbowed her. “With your job and that handsome chef, Jon Eason, occupying your free time. Didn’t he cook dinner for you last week?”
“I . . .” Cooper sputtered. “That was just the one time. It wasn’t dinner. He was trying out a new recipe.”
Maggie raised a brow and pinned Cooper with her gaze.
She waved a hand in the air. “Mama, you’re changing the subject. Tell me, what’s going on with Magnolia’s Marvels? When did you add hors d’oeuvres to your repertoire?”
“Nothing about my treats has changed. I’ll still bake cookies and other treats as my signature brand. They’ll continue to be in their little plastic bags with gold stickers. I’ve simply decided to test the waters on a new venture.” She pulled another slab of bacon from the refrigerator. “Who knows? Maybe Magnolia’s Catering Service is in my future.”
“What a brilliant plan, Mama. How did this happen?”
“Someone at the theater called me last week. Maybe your friend Trish referred them to me.”
“I’m thrilled for you.”
“The best part is that if I can launch this successfully, your father has promised to retire at the end of the school year.” She leaned close. “He says he’ll help me with Magnolia’s Marvels.”
“That’s wonderful. Daddy has devoted too many years to his job.”
“Head of maintenance for a private school has provided a nice paycheck for thirty years. Now, it’s time for your father to slow down.”
“Look at you two,” Cooper said. “You’re making life-changing decisions. I admire your courage.” She sighed and fiddled with her empty coffee mug.
“Is there something you want to talk about, Cooper?”
She couldn’t help but sigh again. Even talking about change terrified her. “I’m wondering if it’s time for me to make a career move.”
“Aren’t you happy at Make It Work!? You’ve been there a long time. Your daddy and I are proud of how you’ve moved from copy repair technician to the manager of leasing and maintenance for one of the city’s largest office machine sales and repair companies.”
“Thank you. And, yes, I’m happy. I love the people I work with, but more and more, I think it’s time to try something new.” Cooper looked at her mother. “I want to do something that reflects me and gives me purpose.” She paused. “Something more involved with the community. Like you and Magnolia’s Marvels.”
“What about your birdhouses?” her mother asked. “Not only do you sell them at that cute shop Jon’s aunt owns, but a percentage of the sales go to the Audubon Society. That’s community service.”
“I hadn’t looked at it that way. I’ve always been just honored to have them in the shop.” Cooper loved Sara Eason’s Bits & Pieces gift store. She could easily wander around the shop for hours.
Maggie Lee dried a spatula and pointed the rubber utensil at Cooper. “Have you thought about expanding the birdhouse business?”
“Not really.” It was true that her upcycled birdhouses had created the revenue that had helped her dig out of a financial hole. Could her crafts be the key to her future?
“Maybe you should. In the meantime, I’ll be praying for the right door to open, Cooper. Just know that I believe you can do anything you set your mind to.”
“I think you might be biased, but I’ll take all the prayers I can get.”
“I’m not biased. It’s true.”
“What’s true?” Grammy Lee entered the kitchen, followed by Popeye, her one-eyed rescue pug.
“I told Cooper she can do anything she sets her mind to.”
Grammy Lee snorted. “She hasn’t managed to move out yet.”
“Grammy!” Maggie Lee shook her head.
Unapologetic, Cooper’s forthright grandmother looked around the kitchen. “Popeye says he smells bacon.”
“He’s right, and he is not getting any,” Maggie said. “But I can use a human taste tester. Why don’t you two try these bacon rollups and tell me what you think.”
Cooper and Grammy both reached for a sizzling, golden-brown bundle secured with a toothpick.
“Oh, Mama. These are to die for. Are these what you’re serving for the party?”
“Party? What party?” Grammy asked. Her hawklike hazel eyes moved between Cooper and Maggie.
“Simon Doyle is hosting a mixer for the cast tonight,” Maggie said. “I’m making the hors d’oeuvres.”
“Simon Doyle!” Grammy shook her head. “I read about him in the paper. He’s a cad. Love ’em and leave ’em, they say.” She wagged a bony finger at Cooper. “You watch out for the man, granddaughter. That chef is a much better prospect.”
“Prospect?” Cooper blinked. “Grammy, I am not looking for a prospect, and I certainly am not looking at Simon Doyle. The man is ancient. He’s at least fifty.”
Maggie chuckled. “Ancient, hmm?”
“You know what I mean, Mama.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t go to this party,” Grammy said. “You don’t want to get mixed up with a scoundrel the likes of Simon Doyle.”
“Grammy, you read about him in one of those gossip papers. You can’t believe everything you read in them.”
“They predicted that Siegfried & Roy would break up, didn’t they?”
Cooper laughed. “Yes, but I still wouldn’t give them too much credit. Simon Doyle is a very famous director. We’re fortunate to have him directing our little production.”
“Humph. So you say.” She reached for another bacon rollup. “Just remember, once a scoundrel, always a scoundrel.”
Cooper’s cell phone rang, and she pulled it from the back pocket of her jeans. “Trish. Hi. Is everything okay?”
“Yes, but I have a minor emergency. My daughter had a slight mishap. Nothing serious. We’re at urgent care.”
“I’m so sorry. What do you need me to do?”
“I’m supposed to pick up the flower centerpiece for the get-together tonight. The florist is closing early today. I wonder if you can swing by and collect the centerpiece and stick it in your refrigerator? I’ve already paid for it.”
“Sure. Is there anything else?” She dug her car keys out of her other pocket.
“That’s it. Thank you so much.”
“No problem.” Cooper was happy to help. She preferred working behind the scenes rather than on the stage any day.
• • •
Thirty minutes later, the bells chimed on the door of Fancy’s Flowers as Cooper stepped inside the front entrance. The warmth embraced her, along with the earthy scent of soil and vegetation, reminding her of the beloved greenhouse her father had built.
“Be right there,” a voice rang out. The silver-haired proprietor turned the corner and came into view with a smile on her face.
“Hello there.” The woman narrowed her gaze. “I know you, don’t I?”
“Yes.” Cooper smiled back. “You did the flowers for my boss’s wedding last June.”
“Ah, yes. You’re Cooper Lee. Your momma does those amazing Magnolia Marvels.”
“That’s right.” Cooper’s smile widened with pride. Her mother’s treats were gaining notoriety in Richmond, which would be advantageous as she launched her catering business.
“How may I help you today?”
“I’m supposed to pick up a centerpiece for the community theater.”
“Oh, yes.” She went to the glass walk-in cooler. “Normally, we’re open all day today, but my granddaughter is getting married. This is a family-owned business, so we’re all taking off early for the wedding.”
“Congratulations!”
“Thank you.” The woman handed Cooper an artful autumn arrangement of roses, carnations, mums, and oak leaves.
“This is stunning.”
“Why, thank you. I added a few more roses than I usually do. No extra charge.”
“Thank you.”
“Are you in the play?” the woman asked.
“Yes. It’s a small part.”
“Be careful. I’ve heard that Simon Doyle is quite the character.” She pointed to the cooler. “In fact, I’ve got flowers to deliver to his latest paramour, Jasmine Ryan, the actress.” She tapped her foot impatiently and peered out the front window. “If my delivery boy great-grandson decides to show up.”
“I’m happy to drop them off myself. The hotel is right on my way.”
“Why, thank you, dear. That would be lovely.”
Minutes later, Cooper parked at the hotel hosting Simon Doyle and his entourage. She stepped outside her red Jeep Cherokee and shivered when a cold breeze cut past. It was only October, and already winter threatened to debut early.
The impressive lobby of the Richmond Grand Hotel buzzed with activity. Cooper found herself distracted by the elegant furniture and lighting. The place subtly whispered class and understated wealth.
Cooper skirted around the line of guests at the front desk and headed to the nearest bank of elevators. The doors whooshed open as she approached, and she made it into the lift right behind a family of four.
When they swiped their key card, Cooper realized she probably should have checked in with the front desk, since she didn’t have a key card. Too late for that. She’d have the flowers delivered and be on her way in five minutes.
Cooper inhaled the scent of roses and baby’s breath and mused how nice it was to have a gentleman send flowers simply because it was Saturday. Then again, if Grammy was right, maybe getting flowers from Simon Doyle wasn’t such a nice thing at all.
The elevator dinged, and the doors silently slid open on the fifteenth floor. The sign said Concierge Level, and she couldn’t help but notice how lovely the décor was. Everything from the curtains to the carpet seemed a bit extra.
Cooper followed the arrows down the hall, double-checked the room number, and knocked.
The door swung open, and Regina McAllister stood with her short dark hair artfully streaked with gray in disarray, and her rather pronounced nose clearly out of joint.
“May I help you?” she growled.
“Oh, Ms. McAllister, I’m so sorry. I have the wrong room.” For a moment, Cooper froze, pinned by the assistant director’s hostile glare.
“Looking for that actress, are you?”
“I um . . .” Cooper cleared her throat.
Regina fumed when her gaze landed on the roses. “Flowers?” She glared at Cooper. “I used to get flowers from Simon Doyle.”
Cooper eased back a step and turned toward the elevators. “Why don’t I check with the front desk?”
“You do that.”
The door slammed with such force that the breeze kicked Cooper in the backside. Rattled, she stood in the elevator for a moment before she remembered to push the button.
At the front desk, she explained her predicament to the clerk, whose name tag read Madison. The young woman shook her head in sympathy.
“That McAllister woman pitched a fit in the lobby because she wanted a room with a view of the city. Fortunately, it was later in the evening and the lobby was empty except for that actress, Jasmine Ryan, and Mr. Doyle’s assistant.”
“What did you do?”
“There wasn’t much I could do. The hotel is booked solid. The penthouse was already taken by Mr. Doyle, and the only room with a view on the Concierge Level was assigned to Miss Ryan.” The clerk rolled her eyes. “Miss Ryan just wanted the other woman to stop fussing.” She raised her brows. “Her words, not mine. Of course, I switched them out. Nice woman, that actress. Nothing like the other one. What a harridan.”
Cooper glanced at the elevator and hesitated. The last thing she wanted was more drama in her life. She grew up with a little sister who was a drama queen and that was plenty.
“I’ll have one of our staff deliver those for you,” the clerk said.
The tension in Cooper’s shoulders eased. “I’d appreciate that.”
“It’s our job.” Madison smiled. “I’m so sorry for the trouble.”
“It’s certainly not your fault,” Cooper said. She sprinted out the door, mulling the woman’s words.
Trouble?
Cooper had a suspicion that the real trouble was yet to begin.
Chapter Two
Quinton Enderly nabbed another crispy bacon rollup and smacked his lips. “Julia Child would approve of these.”
“My mother will be happy to hear that.” Cooper’s gaze spanned the theater’s large classroom, which had been set up for the mixer. The usual table-read setup that defined the space during rehearsals had disappeared. Instead, a buffet table sat near the small stage, and circular tables and chairs were scattered around the room. The floral arrangement Cooper picked up sat in the middle of the buffet table along with decorative director megaphones. Someone, no doubt Trish, had even found vintage It’s a Wonderful Life movie posters and hung them on the wall.
Cooper had to admit, the atmosphere was festive. Around her, cast and crew stood in small groups, chatting and laughing. A few were even reviewing lines with each other.
“I guess we should mingle,” she said.
“I am mingling. With bacon rollups.” Quinton laughed. “Feel free to get out there and mix with people without me.”
“Are you kidding?” Cooper shuddered. “Not only am I not a social being, but I’m a total fish out of water here.”
“That’s not true. I’ve seen you in action. You’re very good with people when you aren’t overthinking. Isn’t that what you do in your job? People?”
“I suppose you’re right. The difference here is that everyone is talking theater. I’m clueless.” She looked up at the portly investment banker.
“Jake doesn’t have a theater background,” Quinton observed. “And he’s doing fine.”
“He’s glued to Savannah’s side, which means he doesn’t need to come up with witty theater repartee.” She glanced over at the couple, who had their heads together in conversation. Who would have ever thought the brawny plumber with the Celtic cross tattoo and the soft-spoken artist would hit it off? They had become a team, and Cooper found herself envious.
“Good point.” Quinton nodded toward the left, where Bryant Shelton held an audience enraptured as he shared a story. “Then there’s our friend Bryant. He’s just another member of the Bible study to us. We forget that he’s the local celebrity meteorologist.”
“Exactly. And Trish is in real estate, which means she’s used to small talk,” she went on. “That leaves you and me on the outside, looking in.”
“Sorry to tell you this, Coop, but I was in every musical theater production my school did, and I also dabbled in a few productions in college.” He wiped his mouth with a napkin and smiled. “However, my love of anything created by Magnolia Lee supersedes chitchat.”
“You’re a thespian?” Cooper found that information fascinating. Quinton was a big man with a big heart, and he had more layers than the exquisite cakes he baked.
“Musical theater and French club. That’s how I survived high school.” He grinned. “Cooper, weren’t you in high school productions?”
“No. Besides field hockey, I was into math. A complete math nerd.”
Bryant’s eye rounded. “I never would have called that one.”
“Truth. I’ve never been typical.” Cooper sighed. Her life was punctuated by atypical moments. As a shy late-bloomer she spent a good amount of time on the fringes.
“I guess not.”
“Since you’ve done this stuff before, does that mean you understand theater lingo?” she asked. “Do you know what ‘off book’ means? Can you tell me what a ‘swing’ refers to?”
Quinton finished off the bacon rollup and eyed the charcuterie board. “The simple answer is that if an understudy must replace a lead role, then the swing replaces the understudy. Make sense?”
“Yes.” She nodded. “And off book?”
“Off book means you no longer need to read from the script. I understand we are to be off book by November first.”
“That’s two weeks from now. I don’t have many lines, but there are stage directions to memorize too.”
“Fear not, fair maiden.” Quinton waved a hand in dismissal. “I’m happy to run your lines with you.”
“That’s generous, Quinton. Especially since you have about three times as many lines as I do.” She looked at him. “Congratulations on getting the part of Clarence.”
Quintin grinned, his eyes sparkling. “Thanks, Coop. I’ll tell you, this is the best thing that’s happened to me since I was accepted into culinary school.” He glanced around the room and then leaned close. “That’s because I met a nice gal who’s a volunteer in the wardrobe department.”
