Annabelle Archer BoxSet, page 77
part #1 of Annabelle Archer Series
“I’m confused. Why are we talking about ghosts?” Kate asked.
Alexandra took her sunglasses off her head and ran a hand through her hair. “I wish he was a ghost. Unfortunately, he’s my ex-husband.”
“Who is?” Richard’s eyes darted between me and Alexandra, and I could tell he sensed what was coming.
Alexandra cringed as she said the name. “Jeremy Johns.”
23
“Jeremy Johns is your husband?” Now Kate sat down with us. “How is that possible?”
Hermès yipped every time Jeremy’s name was uttered, his black eyes alert and his brown furry head quivering with excitement. If I didn’t know better, I would have guessed Richard had trained him. But I also knew dog training was not part of Richard’s repertoire. I gave a nervous look around the room in the hope no one would hear the barking.
“Ex-husband.” Alexandra wound a strand of long brown hair around her finger. “Emphasis on the ‘ex.’”
“I don’t understand,” Richard said to himself, shaking his head as if trying to dislodge the idea. “Jeremy Johns had a wife?”
Yip.
“When were you married?” I asked. I’d known Alexandra for as long as I’d been planning weddings in DC, and she’d always been single. And she’d never identified herself as a divorcée. I understood why, of course. Newly engaged women didn’t like to hear about divorce, so having a divorced cake designer might not appeal to some.
Alexandra kept her eyes down as she opened and closed her sunglasses on the table. “It ended almost ten years ago. Before I came to Washington. We lived in New York together and when things fell apart, he stayed up there and I came down here. It seemed the best way never to run into each other again.”
“So it wasn’t an amicable split?” I asked.
Alexandra smiled weakly, her eyes darting up at me. “Not by a long shot.”
“I still don’t understand why Jeremy Johns would have gotten married,” Kate said. “I mean, isn’t he . . . ?”
Yip.
“It’s all an act,” Alexandra said.
Richard crossed his arms in front of his chest. “I could have told you that.”
“You knew?” I asked him. “How?”
Richard shook his head at me like it was a ridiculous question. “I’m very highly attuned, Annabelle.”
“So you’re convinced the entire male cast of Magic Mike plays for your team, but not Jeremy Johns?” Kate asked.
Yip. Yip.
He shrugged. “I don’t make the rules, darling.”
I tried to ignore Richard and Kate as I turned back to Alexandra. “But why pretend?”
“When he first decided to break into the design world, he realized people would listen to his ideas more if he had a certain sensibility. As soon as he began dressing more flamboyantly, his business took off. The wealthy women of New York couldn’t hire him fast enough.”
“Is that why you split up?” I asked. I could imagine how a husband pretending to be flamboyant would put a crimp in a relationship.
Alexandra’s face darkened. “No. Jeremy was good at living two different lives. I left him because he ruined my business.”
Yip. Yip. Yip.
“Can we not say his name out loud?” I asked. “It seems to upset the dog.”
“Fine by me,” Richard said. “Clearly Hermès has a sixth sense about people.”
I narrowed my eyes at him, not totally convinced he didn’t have a part in the dog’s reaction. The story about Jeremy was starting to sound familiar though. Buster and Mack had told us the exact same story, and neither was a stretch to believe considering how unpleasant we found Jeremy.
“But you’re a cake designer,” Kate said. “Why would he want to torpedo your business?”
Richard cocked his head to one side. “And I know he didn’t want it for himself. He who must not be named is not the type to get his hands dirty in the kitchen.”
I glared at Richard, who only shrugged and smiled sweetly at me. “What? You asked me not to say his name.”
Alexandra stood up and started pacing the room as she talked. “I wasn’t always a cake designer. In New York, I was a private chef for the über-wealthy. That’s how he was able to weasel his way into the upper crust of the city. I recommended him and helped spread his name. At first, it was good for me, too. The more successful he became, the more income we had coming in and the less I had to worry about work.”
“So why bring you down?” Kate asked.
Alexandra’s shoulders twitched up then down again. “It took me a while to figure out what was happening. First, calls started dropping off and then parties I’d always catered went to other chefs. Finally, one of my longtime clients told me my husband was behind it. That he’d been spreading rumors about me and promoting another chef instead. My own husband! The man I’d helped get to where he was.”
Richard shook his head in disgust. “I knew he was a snake from the second I laid eyes on him.”
“Then you’re smarter than I was,” Alexandra said. She stopped her pacing in front of one of the upholstered beige armchairs and flopped down in it. “I never knew how threatened that man was by my success and stature in New York society until he stripped it away from me. He shot to the top by ripping me apart. The society women loved the gossip, and he got a reputation for making and breaking people. So other creatives both feared him and courted him.”
“That’s awful,” Kate said.
“This guy is like an onion,” I said. “But every layer we peel away is more rotten than the one before.”
Alexandra raked both of her hands through her hair. “It was awful. So I left New York and came to DC and focused on baking wedding cakes. I thought since weddings are happy occasions, they would be less stressful.”
I laughed. “So much for that theory, right?”
Alexandra smiled and held up two fingers as if measuring something tiny with them. “So I was a little off base. But I figured working in weddings down here would ensure I’d never run into my ex-husband again.”
“If I’d had any idea, I never would have recommended you,” I said. “And you flew all the way across the ocean too. I’ll bet you thought you’d really escaped him in Scotland.”
“It’s not your fault,” Alexandra said. “You had no way of knowing the dramatic interior designer was actually my ex-husband.”
She had a point. It was hard to feel guilty about a scenario I wouldn’t have dreamed up in my wildest nightmare.
“Who says you have to see him?” Kate said. “He has no idea you’re doing the cake. It’s not like we gave him a vendor list. Plus, you make the cake off-site anyway so we can just arrange for someone else to deliver it, and you’ll never have to lay eyes on that rat again.”
“Kate’s right.” Richard walked over and took Alexandra by the hand, pulling her out of the chair. “Let’s sneak you out of here before that fink Jer—.”
Richard interrupted himself and gestured to the Yorkie in his bag. “He who must not be named.”
Alexandra’s smile faded as she stared behind Richard. We all turned to see Jeremy Johns in the doorway, his hands on his hips and a characteristic sneer on his face. “Too late.”
Richard flipped the flap over Hermès’s head as the little dog let out a torrent of barks.
24
“Well, look at what the cat dragged in.” Jeremy sauntered into the room, eyeing Alexandra up and down. “I never thought I’d see you again.”
He wore a bright pink and purple paisley shirt that fell open at the neck and exposed a few strands of chest hair, reminding me of a lounge lizard who’d wandered into a World Market sale. Even his cologne was too much, overpowering the smell of burned fabric and making my nose twitch. I’d never been a fan of heavy cologne on men, especially on a man as unappealing as Jeremy.
She took a small step backward then clenched her fists and squared her shoulders. “I hoped the next time I saw you, you’d be six feet under.”
Jeremy arched a brow. “Kitty has claws.”
Alexandra rolled her eyes. “Give up the act, Jeremy. I told them all about you and who you used to be.”
A flash of anger and fear darted across his face, then he sneered. “Do I care what these two-bit amateurs think?”
“Hey,” Richard said as his bag growled. “Who are you calling amateurs?”
I tried to send Richard a warning look to stay out of this fight, but he wasn’t focused on me. The last thing we needed was for Jeremy Johns, confidant and preferred designer of the stepmother, to run off and tell Mrs. Barbery we brought a dog on board the ship. Knowing how strict they were about shoes, I could only imagine how they’d feel about a dog.
Jeremy’s eyes darted between Richard, Alexandra, and Richard’s quivering bag. It seemed as if he couldn’t decide which one to focus on first as he opened and closed his fists.
Richard waved a hand at the gaudy fabrics spread across the dining table. “Bold words from someone who picked out this horror of a color palette. Not to mention that shirt.”
“The only taste he ever had was in his mouth,” Alexandra said. She ran her eyes up and down her ex-husband and gave a dismissive sniff. “And even that he learned from me.”
Jeremy’s face flushed scarlet and he stamped his foot. “How dare you! I am a visionary.”
Alexandra laughed. “Your only vision is of money and how much you can talk people out of. And if this is the best original idea you can come up with, I feel sorry for you.”
Kate looked at me, her eyes wide. Neither of us had ever heard Alexandra go after someone like this. Even with the most difficult brides, she’d always managed to keep her cool and her somewhere-in-Europe sophisticated reserve. Clearly, Jeremy had a talent for making even the most unflappable people feel homicidal.
Jeremy glared at his ex-wife, his breathing heavy. “You’d better leave before I have you thrown off the ship. You should know by now what happens to people who cross me.”
“You don’t scare me anymore, Jeremy.” Alexandra strode across the room until she was inches away from his face. “And you’d better be careful, or you may find yourself off this boat. Floating facedown in the Potomac.”
Jeremy took a step back from her, and I could see he was startled. Even I was surprised she’d gone there since we had, in fact, recently found a body floating in the Potomac.
“Damn, girl,” Kate muttered under her breath.
“Can I be of assistance?” Daniel Reese came into the room and put a hand on Jeremy’s shoulder. Jeremy jumped and twisted around to face the retired police officer.
Several inches taller than Jeremy, Daniel wore gray cargo pants and a black button-down shirt he had rolled up to the elbows. He cleared his throat and looked around the room at all of us.
“Everything’s fine.” Jeremy shrugged Daniel’s hand off his shoulder and tugged at the bottom of his shiny shirt to straighten it. “I need to get back to Mrs. Barbery.” He shot a menacing glance at Alexandra and left the room, pushing past Fern and another man on his way out.
“What’s going on?” Fern asked, pulling the other man into the room behind him. “We heard Jeremy screeching.”
“It’s nothing. Jeremy and Alexandra had a few words.” I took a moment to absorb his outfit. “Do you mind if I ask what you’re wearing?”
Fern touched a hand to his navy blazer with gold epaulets on the shoulders. “Don’t you know dress blues when you see them?”
I rubbed my temples. “Please tell me that’s not an actual Navy uniform.”
Fern laughed and swatted me. “Of course not. Those jackets are cut too boxy. I had this one designed for me when I knew I’d be working on a boat. I kept the gold stripe down the sides of the pants but tapered them to elongate my legs. See?”
I nodded as I took in the slim-fit pants and matching tailored blazer embellished with gold braid and a colorful bar of fake commendations over the left pocket. I hoped no actual military officers ever laid eyes on this.
“I, for one, thought you were part of the ship’s crew,” Alexandra said.
Fern’s eyes rested on the cake designer, and he clapped his hands together and ran to give her a hug. “You’re here!”
“I didn’t know you were on board,” Alexandra said when Fern had released her.
“Officially I’m not here since Kristie isn’t staying on the boat anymore,” Fern said. “Damian and I were just gabbing downstairs. Everyone, this is Damian, Mrs. Barbery’s hairstylist from Paris.”
The man with Fern smiled at us. “Bonjour.”
I could see Kate turn up the wattage on her smile when she heard his accent, and I tried not to groan out loud. Kate had a weakness for accents. Actually she had a weakness for most things having to do with men.
I had to admit he was striking. Tall with muscled arms the color of raw honey and dark dreadlocks that reached his shoulders. He wore a snug black T-shirt and dark wash jeans only a Frenchman could pull off. Everything about Damian was too cool to be from DC.
“So you can’t stand Jeremy either?” Fern asked Alexandra, holding both of her hands in his.
Richard’s bag yipped, and he coughed over it.
“She hates him even more than the rest of us,” Kate said. “She used to be married to him.”
Fern’s face registered disbelief. “Jeremy Johns? You were married to Jeremy Johns?” He held her out at arm’s length “Are you sure, darling?”
Kate, Richard, and I all coughed as Hermès let out a series of small barks. Fern, Damian, and Daniel looked around the room, so I did as well—shrugging after the yipping stopped. Daniel began walking toward Richard, and Richard edged away from him.
Alexandra laughed. “It’s a long story.”
Fern winked at her. “You know what I say, girl. The longer the better.”
“Oui,” Damian said, and he and Fern giggled.
Richard shook his head and shifted his bag behind him. “Oh, for the love of all that’s holy.”
I leaned closer to Kate. “Do you think Damian speaks any English?”
“When you look like that, who cares?” Kate whispered back.
“Is everything okay here?” Daniel asked. By this point he’d made a full circle of the room and so had Richard, so they remained on opposite sides of each other. Daniel’s face told me he was more amused than concerned. “Jeremy Johns seems to have a lot of enemies on board.”
This time when Hermès yipped, he leapt out of the bag and onto the floor. Damian’s hand flew to his mouth as he screamed.
“How did that get in there?” Richard said, peering into his messenger bag and pretending to be startled.
Clearly thrilled to be out of the bag and in daylight, Hermès trotted around the group sniffing all of our feet.
Fern reached down and scooped him up in his arms. “Was that big, bad man keeping you inside his bag?” He shook one of the dog’s tiny brown paws at Richard. “Naughty Richard.”
Damian had recovered from his surprise and reached over to pet the Yorkie. “Adorable.”
Daniel laughed. “So that’s what you all were hiding?”
“Sorry.” Kate batted her eyelashes at him and held out her wrists. “Do you need to lock us up?”
“I’m here to keep an eye out for danger, not dogs.” He tousled the fur on top of Hermès’s head. “Anyway, I like dogs.”
“And I’m sorry I lost my temper,” Alexandra said. “I let Jeremy get to me. But I promise I won’t let this impact my work for this wedding.”
“Don’t worry,” Richard said. “That toad is the master at pushing people’s buttons. There have been plenty of times I would have liked to see him floating in the Potomac.”
“I’m sure you don’t mean that.” I gave Richard a pointed look and hoped Daniel wasn’t taking what he said seriously. “Have you met Daniel Reese? Detective Reese’s brother and the head of the security team on board?”
“I’m sure I do mean it,” he said, then glanced at Daniel. “And yes, I’ve met Big Brother. I told him he was even better looking than the detective in a silver fox kind of way, and I hoped not nearly as arrest happy.”
I put a hand over my eyes. Between Richard threatening people on board, Hermès’s surprise appearance, and Kate’s flirting, we were making a great impression.
“He knows I would never really push Jeremy in the Potomac,” Richard said.
Daniel rocked back on his heels. “Of course not.”
“And he knows I mean silver fox as a compliment.” Richard winked at Daniel.
“Anyone over twenty-five is not automatically a silver fox.” I felt myself blushing for Daniel.
“I’m not criticizing.” Richard spread his arms out in front of him. “I’m expanding my horizons.”
Good heavens. I took Hermès from Fern and handed him back to Richard, then grabbed Kate by an arm. “Why don’t we go? We’ve caused enough fun for one day.” I glanced back at Alexandra, avoiding looking at Daniel. “You coming? I can drop you back at your hotel.”
Alexandra put her sunglasses back on. “I’m with you. It would be smart to put some distance between me and my ex-husband.”
I pushed my motley group out the door of the salon and through the informal dining room. As we were trading the Mystic Maven slippers for the shoes we’d left in the big basket, I heard my name being called from above. I glanced up and saw Mandy waving at me from one deck up.
“Hold on a second,” she called down, and then disappeared from sight.
“We were so close,” Kate said.
I handed my car keys to Kate. “You guys go ahead to the car. I’ll wait for her.”
Kate and Alexandra teetered down the ramp in their heels, and I hoped neither of them turned an ankle.
Mandy appeared at the bottom of the circular staircase at the other end of the deck and hurried toward me. “Sorry to stop you. I wanted to talk with you about Caren.”
“She hasn’t come back?”
Mandy darted a glance over her shoulder. “No. She didn’t come to see you, did she?”
