Engaged in Murder (Perfect Proposals Mystery) Page 10

  A bank of soft clouds floated by the window. I was on the thirtieth floor. The hotel faced east to west. The skyline was on the west side. The lake on the east. The penthouse venue offered views of both the lake and the city. It would be perfect.

  I made a note to myself to research jazz music to add to the ambience of the party. My cell phone rang and I picked up.

  “Felicity?”

  “Hi, Pepper. Warren and I were able to move our schedules around. Is it okay if we come by for the tasting?”

  I turned to the room. There were four chairs at the table. “Yes, please, I would love to have your input. Do you know where to go?”

  “Warren knows—here, I’ll put you on speaker.”

  “Hi, Pepper, we’re almost there.” Warren’s voice rang through the phone. “I know Amanda, we did a few fund-raisers at the W. Tell her we’ll be right over.”

  “Will do.” I couldn’t help the smile in my voice. Their happiness was contagious. How could I have ever doubted Warren? I guess I had Detective Murphy to credit with my change of heart. When he suspected me of murder based on my circumstances and lack of alibi, he showed me how easy it was to misunderstand a person’s situation.

  All I really wanted was for Felicity to be this happy always. It’s why I was determined to help find the killer. I never wanted there to be a reason—even a false one—for my baby sister to lose the love of her life.

  I dialed Amanda’s number. I know she kept her cell phone with her. I’d seen it on her belt.

  “This is Amanda, how can I help you?”

  “Hi, Amanda, this is Pepper Pomeroy. My sister, Felicity, called and she and Warren Evans are on their way in to help with the tasting.”

  “No problem, I’ll have the server set the table for three.”

  Felicity and Warren arrived as the server finished setting the table. He had placed three settings of 1920s vintage china and glassware on the table. It looked like we would be able to pick china as well as the tasty dishes.

  “Thank you so much for doing this.” Felicity rushed up and gave me a kiss and a hug.

  Warren looked flushed and happy. They were both dressed for work. Felicity had on a cute little ice blue suit with a full skirt that came to her knees. Warren wore an Italian-cut business suit of charcoal gray with a blue shirt that matched his eyes.

  “It’s my pleasure,” I said and returned her affection. “Sit. Tell me what you think of the china.”

  “Oh, my goodness, it’s all so lovely.” Felicity sat in the chair Warren pulled out for her. He pulled mine out as well and I was astonished at his manners. A man with manners was difficult to find in this day and age.

  “The china patterns are all 1920s,” Amanda said. “Original to the hotel at the time.”

  “I love the graphic feel of the pattern on the right,” I said. “What do you think, Warren?”

  “I think the idea of a Roaring Twenties party is fabulous. You really have a knack for these things, Pepper.”

  “Thanks.” The heat of a blush rushed up my cheeks. “I’m taking your advice and starting my own business. I’m going to plan wedding proposals and the engagement party.”

  “Oh, my gosh, that’s perfect,” Felicity said, her blue eyes sparkling. “Be sure and keep everything you did for mine as an example.”

  “I plan on it, if that’s okay with you both . . .”

  “Oh, of course, it is,” Felicity gushed. “Isn’t it, Warren?”

  “It was my idea,” he said. “Do you have a business plan?”

  “I’ve been working on one,” I said with pride.

  “Good, when you’re done, send me a copy. I want to invest in your company.”

  “What?” I sat back.

  “I’ll go over the plan and help you tweak it, and then I want to be a silent partner. I believe in you, Pepper,” he said as he put a napkin on his lap. “I have the ability to fund good talent when I see it. Let me partner with you.”

  “But—”

  “Give me two years,” he said. “If you’re sick of me—”

  “Or you’re sick of me . . .”

  “Then you can buy me out. Agreed?” He held out his hand.

  “What if I can’t buy you out?” I drew my eyebrows together. Worry wrapped itself through my mind. I wanted to do this for me. I didn’t want to owe anyone. But then again, I had been looking at the initial numbers on the business plan and a fresh flow of start-up cash would really help.

  “You will be able to buy me out,” he said with confidence and motioned with his hand. “I would never support a business I wasn’t a hundred percent sold on. Now shake and we can get back to the tasting.”

  I shook. Felicity’s joy washed over me. Warren had believed in me even when I doubted his sincerity. He had that unique ability to start over fresh. I pulled my hand from his warm one and watched as the waiter came in with covered dishes on a room service cart.

  Was it possible that he was doing this to throw me off his trail as a suspect? I mean, I was indebted to him now. How could I turn on him if my investigation showed me Warren was the killer? I mentally shook off the thought. If I were to find out that Warren was the killer, I would still tell the police no matter what. In the meantime, Warren’s financial help gave me hope for myself and my ability to take charge of my own future. From now on, I was the boss. My business would succeed or fail based on my own abilities. For the first time in a long time I could feel real hope and confidence blossom in my chest. I could do this. I really could.

  Chapter 14

  Felicity and Warren had loved the menu I’d created. The chef had outdone himself as well with tiny tasty bites of an actual feast and the wines that matched.

  I sat in my apartment and worked on my business plan. The sounds of a group laughing and coming out of the bar on the corner caught my attention. I looked out to see some of Bobby’s work friends going inside. Bobby’s favorite drinking buddy, Harry, held the door for the rest of the gang.

  It felt a little odd not to rush down to meet them. I dropped the sheer curtain that covered the old windows on my apartment and resolutely went back to my desk.

  The business plan was nearly finished. I had done a lot of work on it. Part of my event planning/hospitality major in college was to come up with an accurate business plan. At the time I’d written it for a small children’s party planner business.

  Proposal planning was close to the same thing—minus the magicians and clowns. I had spent an hour online researching statistics of how many people in the area marry every year and extrapolated for how many proposals I would be able to plan. My overhead would be low. With a smart phone and a tablet, I could plan pretty much anything from my car.

  The new social media Pintrest was a big help. People pinned pictures to a wide variety of boards. The first thing I could do was research each potential bride and see what kinds of things she pinned. It was a great way to determine her design style and incorporate her favorite things into the proposal plan.

  A good business plan also accounted for any unexpected expenses in the first year, and from what I could tell, I would be able to make a go of this business without too much of Warren’s money. I wanted to keep the overhead low so that I could pay him back sooner rather than later. He was a nice guy, but my parents taught me that it was better to pay off loans as quickly as possible.

  I put the last touches on the plan and printed out a copy for Warren. A glance at the clock told me it was 10 P.M. and the bar was probably starting to get rowdy. I thought of Bobby and how I’d left him. It had been hard to break up in front of Gage, but I knew I’d done the right thing.

  The light on my phone blinked and I turned it on to see that I had a missed call. A quick check of the number told me it was Bobby who’d called. I deleted the message without listening. Knowing Bobby, he would remind me of a time when
he had done something out of the ordinary—like when he had won money at the casino in Des Plaines and had used it to pay for a romantic weekend getaway. In Bobby’s mind, a happy weekend four years ago was proof he loved me.

  I blew out a long breath and went to bed. Bobby could wait another day.

  * * *

  The next morning I stood in my living room and listened to the Metra train rattle by. I had bed hair. I know this because I always had bed hair in the morning, but this time I didn’t care. In fact, to celebrate breaking up with Bobby for good, I stayed in my favorite pink and white striped pajamas. It was 8 A.M., and I was eager to continue making changes in my life.

  The first thing I needed to do was to box up Bobby’s stuff and put it out in the hall. Not for the first time I was glad I’d insisted on living alone. Bobby had tried for years to get me to let him move in with me. It’s why he had so much stuff here. Looking back, I realized my reluctance should have been a real clue. My excuse was my parents would never forgive me. Frankly, I have no clue if that were true or not. For all I knew, they thought Bobby and I had been living together for years.

  I pulled up a big moving box, one of three I’d picked up at the storage unit shop and tossed Bobby’s things inside. There was his collection of random CDs. They made a distinctive thunk in the bottom of the box. His beer-bottle-cap collection—all three jars’ worth—made a satisfying clink and jingle as I placed them next to the CDs. Next came the collection of ball caps from every NASCAR race he’d ever been to see. I turned the corner to the next wall and pulled his game system off the shelf. He’d brought it in one night pronouncing he’d bought it for me to do workouts with . . . Then he’d proceeded to bring in a variety of his favorite games. Suddenly, the game system became his real reason to come over—that and the beer in my refrigerator.

  It was hard to remember that there was a time when he was the star quarterback and I was his girl. In those days he’d put his letter jacket around my shoulders and I’d imagine we were Sandy and Danny from Grease. I thought we were destined to be together forever.

  The games went into the box with a click and a snap. The controller was next. It was funny how he’d only bought one of those.

  Then there was the framed picture of his dog. The photo of Bobby standing next to his truck and a handful of beer steins all got packed away, too. When the box was full, I pulled it out into the hallway and shut my door on it with a satisfying clap of my hands.

  The next room was my bedroom. When I had moved in, I’d bought neutral bedding so that Bobby wouldn’t feel as if he were sleeping in a girl’s bed. I ripped that off with sadness and satisfaction. The bedding was a symbol of my life. I had sacrificed my own desires for Bobby and a dream that didn’t happen. It was time to grow up and move on. My first stop—when I decided to get dressed and go out—would be to the bedding store. I was going to purchase whatever girlie bedding struck my fancy. Let freedom ring!

  At that thought my cell phone rang. I whirled about in an effort to find it before it stopped. I found it under a stack of muscle magazines and hit the answer button. “Hello?”

  “Pepper?”

  “Yeah,” I said as I frowned at the magazines. They had my address on them. I certainly didn’t read them.

  “It’s Warren.” He sounded tentative. “Are you doing okay?”

  “Yes, hi, I’m fine.” I tossed the magazines in the trash. “What can I do for you?”

  “I have a client for Perfect Proposals,” Warren announced.

  My eyes widened and my heartbeat picked up. “Really? That’s fabulous. Let me get my pen, I want to write the info in my desk planner.”

  I hurried over to my desk and sat down. I was surprised to see there were two pens left in my pen holder—a pink one and a blue one. The rest had been Bobby’s and had gone in a box. I snatched the blue.

  “Don’t get too excited,” Warren said. “It’s for my friend Keith. He wants to propose to his girlfriend and I told him about you. The thing is this. He won’t be able to pay for your services—only the props and venue and such. But he’s willing to let you use him in your portfolio. How’s that sound?”

  I covered my disappointment quite nicely. “No problem. It would be great to have more work in my portfolio.”

  “That’s the spirit.” Warren’s voice brightened. “Here’s Keith’s number. He has an interesting problem. When you solve this, he’ll be thrilled.”

  I wrote down the phone number Warren gave me and hung up the phone. A quick look around my apartment and it became very clear to me that the place looked bare. Somehow in my enthusiasm to make my home appealing to Bobby, I had forgotten to make it appealing to me.

  “Well, that’s about to change,” I muttered and stood. I grabbed another scrap of paper and made a list of things I needed to get the business off and running. A quick inventory showed I needed things like business cards, brochures, a website, a new computer, a new desk, a fax machine, and a color printer. I made one more turn about the place to ensure that everything Bobby was packed up and out in the hallway. Then I headed for the shower. If I was going to start the business off on the right foot, then I needed to be sure I was showered, professionally dressed, and properly focused before I called my first client.

  It was difficult to think like a professional when you had cobwebs in your hair.

  Chapter 15

  “Warren tells me you are the best at this proposal planning thing.” Keith Emry’s voice was sincere.

  “Let me assure you, Mr. Emry, that Perfect Proposals is here to help you give your lady a unique and romantic proposal. She will be thrilled with what we put together. Now, let’s talk about your girlfriend. What’s the favorite thing you like to do together?”

  I opened my tablet and typed the heading “Personality” on the top of the notes section.

  “Besides the obvious?” He chuckled and heat rushed over my cheeks when I realized what I had said.

  “Yes.” I cleared my throat. “What kinds of things do you do when you go out?” I typed a note to self to make a list of standard questions. Preferably ones that I had run past my mom, Felicity, and possibly Warren. I didn’t want to make another mistake like that one.

  “Amy and I love to scuba dive,” Keith’s voice rumbled through the phone. “We’ve taken dive trips to some of the best places, like the Great Barrier Reef.”

  “Wow, and she likes that?” I thought of that movie where the two divers were stranded in the ocean. Scary. I made another note to myself not to mention that thought.

  “She loves it,” he said. “But here’s the thing, I want to propose here in Chicago. Amy wouldn’t want to be anywhere else when I propose and I agree. It would be great if our family and friends would be waiting in the wings, like Warren did with you. I can see her wanting to squeal over everything with her friends.”

  “I’ll do my best to elicit a squeal of delight out of her,” I promised. “So the dive must take place here in Chicago.”

  “Yes.”

  “Great.” It was October so a warm outside dive was out of the question. “Do you have those cold weather suits?”

  “No, that’s part of my problem. We only dive where it’s warm, which is not Chicago.”

  “Oh,” I chuckled, understanding his dilemma. “I see how it could be a problem to have a dive proposal here. Lake Michigan isn’t exactly romantic diving. I’ll work on that. Now, when it comes to colors, what are her favorites?”

  “She loves pink. I think if she had it her way, the entire world would be pink. Then there’s this dress she wears that is ruffled and sparkly.”

  “Okay.” I drummed my fingers on the desk. “Does she like sunsets or sunrises?”

  “Both because . . . they have pink in them.”

  “Right.” I chewed on my bottom lip. “What kind of jewelry does she like? Silver or gold?”

&nb
sp; “She likes gold. She says it goes with her tan skin and her blond hair. My girl is hot.”

  “Got it.” I warmed to the enthusiasm in his tone. “Does she have a favorite drink?”

  “Pink champagne.”

  “You’re kidding me.” I smiled when I said it so as not to offend him.

  “Not kidding.” I swear I could hear him shake his head. “She also likes stuffed animals, feather boas, sky-high heels, and anything that blings. One year for Christmas I got her one of those bedazzle machines.”

  “Let me guess, she loved it.”

  “Yes! Her girlfriends loved it, too. They made sparkly lamp shades and napkin holders and shoes and things I don’t want to think about right now.”

  I smothered my laugh. My mom was big into the bedazzler as well. I still had four sweatshirts she had bedazzled to within an inch of their lives. Me, I liked sparkle when it was in the right place and the right time. “What about movies? What is her favorite movie?”

  “You know what? She likes all those sappy Tom Hanks movies. She and her girlfriends had a movie marathon sleepover last weekend when I had to go out of town for work. She kept texting me her favorite quotes starting with ‘You’ve got mail . . .’

  He sounded indulgently happy about her movie choices if not a little bit bemused. “Then there are all those Disney movies. She loves a happy ever after.”

  “Right.” I typed “Disney princess” in the column. “Wow, okay.” I looked at the descriptors and had no idea what I was going to come up with. “Well, Mr. Emry—”

  “Call me Keith, please. With Warren engaged to your sister, we’re practically family.”

  “Okay, Keith, it sounds like we have a real challenge on our hands, but I promise you I’ll come up with something that incorporates everything you’ve talked about. Now, I also offer a package where I plan the engagement party as well as the proposal. No charge for you, of course, if I can use it for my portfolio.”