Powdered Murder

"Oh, Patrick," Bebe said as she answered the door.

"Hi." Patrick had a peach rose tucked into his front suit pocket. His cheeks were rosy and he greeted Bebe with a one-handed hug. He looked at me with softened eyes. "Bebe, can I speak to Essie alone for a minute."

"Sure." Bebe winked at me and left the room, shutting the door behind her.

I didn't know what to say. I didn't know what Patrick wanted me to say. I started by smiling politely and opening my mouth to offer a congratulations but saying it without really meaning it didn't feel right. I cleared my throat and waited for Patrick to speak first.

"Thank you for what you did," he said, taking a step closer.

"I did it for all of us," I replied. "The entire resort's reputation would have been stained if no one figured it out. And Joy begged me to help so…"

"She chose the right girl for the job." He clasped his hands in front of him. "I don't know how else to say this, but I wanted you to know how much you mean to me. I don't want to stop being friends."

"That might be kind of hard when you move back to L.A." My heart started racing and it took everything I had to steady my breathing so my chest didn't rapidly rise up and down like I was jogging on a treadmill.

"I'm not going back," he informed me. "I've bought a house just down the street."

Great.

"And Lila is okay with this?" I asked, knowing dang well the shops on Canyon Road didn't compare to the designer chicness of Rodeo Drive.

"I'm sure she'll be thrilled, and so will my parents." He gri

"With everything that's happened, I sure wouldn't," I joked.

"And…" Patrick glanced down at his shoes. I knew what he was going to say next. He was going to bring up that spark between us that neither of us had the guts to talk about directly. My heart pounded even more.

"If this is about last night," I said first. "We agreed to leave that in the past where it belongs, remember?"

"I will," he agreed. "Because it's what you want. I just want to make sure you understand why I'm doing what I'm doing."

"You don't have to explain that to me."

"But I do," he insisted. "All I want is for the important people in my life to be happy. Lila and I are very different, but she was there for me when I signed my first big sponsorship deal. She was there supporting me when the press hounded into every private detail of my life trying to make it front page news. That's got to count for something. Am I right?"

"I never doubted the two of you have some kind of special co

"You're not upset with me?"

"No," I admitted. I took a deep breath, and realized I really wasn't. When I think of the past I will always see his face, but that wasn't a bad thing. I'd moved on from a lot of things. Realizing I might never meet my birth mother. Standing up to that third piece of cake when it called to me at one in the morning. I could move on from Patrick too. How hard could it be the second time around?

"Good." He nodded, and pulled a key from his pocket. "It's a relief that at least one member of the wedding party thinks we'll make it. Do

"I thought she and Lila were friends?"

"I thought so too," he commented. "Chicks, huh?"

"Yeah," I answered quietly.

Patrick left the room and quietly shut the door. I heard Joy ask him if he was ready to start as he headed for the bride's room. There was another knock on the door. Joy stepped in without waiting for a response. She raised her eyebrows and studied my dress.

"Not the style I would have picked, but you still look smashing," she said. "Way better than the bride anyway." Joy chuckled.

"Don't let your boss hear you say that."

“Oh, he's probably in the kitchen double-checking everything," she said in a low voice. "He heard about the nut allergy thing you pointed out yesterday. He's worried we might have a lawsuit on our hands."

"Not when they've proven it was all Franco's fault," I pointed out.

"As long as I get my promotion." She gestured for me to get moving to my place. "Let's do this. Bebe is already ready to go."

I took one last look in the mirror, and smoothed a piece of my hair. My cell phone buzzed underneath my bra strap. I'd shoved it there as a temporary measure. My dress had no pockets, and my purse was locked downstairs in an employee locker.

"Hang on a second." I pulled my cell phone out to see who was calling.

"Essie," Joy scolded. "Put that away. I don't want your boobs to be buzzing when Patrick reads his vows."

"Just a second," I laughed. Joy slammed the door a little too firmly as she left the room. I looked at the brightened screen on my phone and froze. A name was flashing that pushed back everything I'd felt these past couple days. Confusion. Doubt. Fear.

Bev was calling me back.

I answered immediately, my eyes darting to each end of the room making sure I was completely alone. I gulped when I listened and heard silence on the other end.

"Hello," a voice said. "Is someone there?"

"Um," I replied. "Yeah. Sorry. Hi, this is Essie. Thank you for calling me back."

"When I found out about Do

"I'm sorry. Were the two of you close?"

"Somewhat," she answered. "Listen, Essie, I've thought a lot about whether or not I should call you back and I've decided that there are a few things I think you should know."

"I'm listening," I said quietly.

"Are you sitting down?"

"Of course," I lied.

"Good." She exhaled, and I tapped my foot listening for my cue to walk down the aisle. "On Thursday night, Do

"So she confided in you," I guessed.

"Yes." She took another breath. "Sorry, this is hard for me to talk about. Lila is a friend of mine but…"

"I'm alone," I reassured her.

"You should know I decided not to go for the wedding because right before our trip Lila had a nervous breakdown. It wasn't like her usual petty tantrums. This one was bad and … more violent."

"Violent?" I asked.

"She threw a bottle of wine out the window and threatened to throw the next one at my head." Bev paused. "It freaked me out."

"Did you tell anyone about it?" The sound of my heart pumping filled my ears and my throat was tight, like my glands were too swollen to swallow.

"Not until Do