Silence of the Lamps (3 page)

“Are we going to talk flowers?” Vince muttered.

Roz jabbed him in the ribs. “Do you have a better idea than flowers in vases on the tables?”

“Let’s see. Fifteen years ago. Why don’t you do movie themes from that year? Incorporate that into centerpieces.”

“It’s a little late for an all-new concept,” Caprice said. “Though that would have been a good one. We’ll probably just stick to our class’s colors with the flowers.”

“You
are
bringing a date?” Roz asked Caprice, with a sly look at Grant.

“I might ask a certain lawyer I know,” Caprice teased back.

“And maybe this time I’ll ask you to dance,” Grant assured her.

Grant was referring to the Valentine’s Day Dance when he hadn’t asked her and she’d been terribly disappointed. From the affectionate pressure of his hand on her arm right now, she knew that wouldn’t happen this time.

Suddenly Nikki was beside Caprice, unfurling her own blanket beside them.

“This will give you all a little more room,” she said.

Nevertheless, there was something in her tone that alerted Caprice that something could be wrong . . . something
new
could be wrong.

While Vince spread his long legs over onto Nikki’s blanket, Caprice waved her hand over her outfit. “See, I wore what you suggested.”

Her blouse, reminiscent of Stevie Nicks, was gauzy, though not Nicks’s representative black. It was turquoise with embroidery and flowed over her white culottes. Her white sandals with jewels of fuchsia, lime, and turquoise completed the ensemble. Nikki knew her well and wouldn’t have suggested anything Caprice didn’t want to wear.

“Perfect,” Nikki said with a glance, though she looked distracted.

Grant raised a brow at Caprice. He was coming to know her sister too. Usually energetic and effervescent, this was a different Nikki.

“Are you nervous about the expo, Nik?” Caprice asked her, leaning closer.

Vince overheard. “What do you have to be nervous about? You’ve done expos before.”

“None of those was this important,” Nikki maintained. “I’ve come up with my pièce de résistance,” she told Caprice. “Carrot cake with cream cheese icing. I’m going to bake it tomorrow and freeze it. Serena is going to frost and decorate it for me early Sunday morning.”

“Then you’ll be all set.”

“I just hope my presence there will make a difference and stop Drew from stealing my clients. I lost another to him—Warren Shaeffer, who’s president of Kismet’s Chamber of Commerce. He lives in Reservoir Heights, and I catered a cocktail party for him last year.”

“He belongs to the Country Squire Golf and Recreation Club,” Roz said. “I can ask around and find out how Drew stole Warren away from you. For all we know, he could be giving a discount that you could never give, just to take clients away from you.”

“And what good would that do?” Vince asked.

“That discounted event might help him to capture further events by spreading his name around. I don’t know, but I’ll find out for you, Nik.”

“Your carrot wedding cake is going to beat Drew’s groom’s cake. I’d bet my life on it,” Caprice assured her sister. “Let Drew Pierson be the king of barbeque sauce. You can be the queen of catering.”

Although Nikki tried to smile, Caprice could see that her words weren’t assuring her sister. Nikki was worried she’d lose her business . . . and Caprice couldn’t blame her.

Chapter Three

The building where the wedding expo was held on Sunday was huge, probably the largest public building in the town of Kismet. So many of the edifices in the town, especially downtown, were old and refurbished. This expo center, however, on a plot of ground where old houses had been demolished to make room, was shiny, bright, and about eight months old. The town council and mayor, after doing some research, had decided Kismet could bring in revenue by having a facility where wedding receptions could be held, or businesses could show their wares, where craft shows could flourish, where gun shows could have their day. A building like this could draw crowds, not just from York, Harrisburg, and Lancaster, but maybe from farther away—from Philadelphia and Baltimore. Who knew what people might come to see?

Caprice was meeting several people here. Nikki, of course, would be inside serving. Juan Hildago, Caprice’s assistant in her house stagings, would be sampling food and thinking up ideas for future open houses. Yes, it was a wedding expo, but ideas could be gathered anywhere. Roz and Vince might be here too, if matrimony was anywhere in their heads . . . or if they weren’t too hesitant to admit it. Since Uncle Dom was trying out his pet-sitting skills, Caprice had left her furry crew with him. She’d seen him interact with Lady and her cats since he’d been living with her parents, and she trusted him. A pet-sitting career could be just what he needed. A pet sitter was just what
she
needed when she didn’t want to impose on family or friends.

The expo center was spacious and divided into several groupings. Bridal gowns and bridesmaids dresses, mothers of the bride dresses, and elegant shoes were displayed against the eastern wall, each vendor having something different to offer. Deejays were set up showing off their sound systems and computer-generated music, trying to lure in customers with particular playlists. Jewelry vendors took an aisle down the center. Every bride needed jewelry, not only for herself, but for gifts. There were leather makers who provided suggestions for male groomsmen, and china dealers with everything from Spode to Fiesta dinnerware. Flower shops showed off representative floral bouquets for the church and for the bride to carry, as well as potted palms and hibiscus to dress up reception areas.

As Caprice navigated the aisles and checked out the wares, a little thrill of excitement jumped up her spine. If she and Grant were really serious, if they really meant what she thought they did to each other, they could be walking around here together, not only dreaming but planning. Maybe next year if the wedding expo was here again.

The bakers’ aisle garnered her attention as she strolled down the row where bakers were presenting their specialty wedding cakes. Caprice passed one ten tiers tall with beautiful pale pink flowers, silver balls, and white pillars. It was a little much for Caprice’s taste, but some brides would love it.

The food sampling stands were all located against the west wall. Nikki had called Caprice when she was setting up so Caprice knew where she was located. She headed that way, easily spotting the top of Nikki’s head. She’d had her dark brown hair highlighted with golden lights again. Since she was serving food today, she had it pulled back in a bun. But her beautiful oval, Madonna-like face only looked prettier with the severe hairstyle.

Nikki was busy testing food in the food warmers. Caprice knew her routine. She didn’t let anything go by untasted. But before she could reach Nikki’s table, she spotted Drew . . . and he wasn’t behind a table of his own. He approached Nikki’s table and took one of the business cards from a cut-glass stand right next to the pamphlets about her catering business. He pocketed it with a little show and grinned at Nikki. Then he went around the corner of the table where Nikki was holding a spoon in one hand and a fork in the other. With her hands busy, with customers stopping and looking and sometimes asking questions, she was at an obvious disadvantage with her enemy so close. And close he was. He leaned in to her, his lips almost brushing her cheek, and he whispered something in her ear.

Caprice rushed forward when she saw Nikki blush. Her sister didn’t only blush, she elbowed him away. He, however, just laughed, gave her a wave, and returned to his own station, two tables up from hers.

Caprice hurried over and scurried around the back of the table. “What was that about?”

Nikki laid down the fork and the spoon, got hold of the chafing dish’s lid, and plopped it on top with a clang. “Nothing.”

“Your face is still flaming, so it wasn’t just nothing. What did he say?”

“It was a lewd remark, and I’m just going to ignore him. I don’t have any other choice.”

“He’s behaving like an adolescent who wants a pretty girl’s attention. You turned him down, and now it’s like he’s going to do anything possible to make you notice him again.”

“Even if that means putting me out of business?”

“That’s not going to happen. That’s why you’re here. Just look at that carrot cake.”

Instead of the traditional round shape, Nikki had created a square wedding cake. Her friend Serena had made classical swirls and twists with the icing. The three layers looked professionally done yet practical too. The topper on the cake was a beautiful cut-crystal heart.

“Who wouldn’t want this cake?” Caprice asked, then took one of the small dishes with samples—Nikki had baked sheet cakes with the same icing—used the plastic fork, and transferred the bite into her mouth. She sighed with gastronomical pleasure. “The carrot cake is moist and rich, and that cream cheese icing . . . You’ve got a winner with this one.”

A couple who had been standing about a foot away closed in on Nikki now. They held a copy of one of her sample menus in their hands, looking quite interested in it.

The man spoke first. “I’m John Laughton, and this is my fiancée, Danica. We tasted your wedding cake, and we’ve checked out your menus. We’re quite interested in hiring you. We like the variety of food you have to offer. Is it possible to change up these menus, or are they set? We have food restrictions in our family.”

As Nikki explained they could come up with a custom-made menu, Juan Hildago appeared by Caprice’s side. In addition to helping with all of her house stagings, Juan sometimes assisted Nikki in planning the menus in order to fit the theme. He was as familiar with Nikki’s food as Caprice was. Right now he looked seriously disturbed.

“What’s the matter?” Caprice asked before he said a word.

Juan lowered his voice as he explained, “You know that horseradish-glazed beef dish Nikki is giving samples of?”

Caprice nodded.

“Pierson is serving the same dish.”

“You aren’t serious.”

“More serious than the price on that designer wedding dress over there. Do you think we should tell Nikki?”

Caprice considered what she should do. She and Nikki didn’t keep secrets from each other. The young couple who had approached her sister seemed to be finishing up their conversation with her. She noticed Nikki pick up her phone and enter the woman’s number. The man took a business card and one of the pamphlets. After smiles all around, the couple moved away.

“I’m going to get a sample of Pierson’s beef,” Juan said. “Be right back.”

Nikki’s questioning gaze followed him as he got lost in the crowd. “Where’s he going in such a hurry?”

“You’ll find out in a minute. I’m not sure you’re going to be happy when you do. But knowing your competition is ninety percent of the battle. Juan said that Drew is serving horseradish-glazed beef. He’s gone to get us a sample.”

Nikki’s expression was that worried look Caprice had seen so often on her face lately. “We made it together when he worked for me.”

Juan was back, saying, “Pierson didn’t see me. One of his assistants handed off the sample. Taste it and see what you think.”

Both Caprice and Nikki picked up forks. They each took bites. Nikki looked as if she was going to blow a gasket.

“That is
my
recipe. I can taste every spice I put in it. I taught Drew how to make it when he was cooking with me. He’d never heard of horseradish-glazed beef, let alone known there was a white horseradish. I’m going to tell him he’s not going to get away with this.”

Caprice caught her sister’s arm. “Wait, Nik. Think about this.” She was usually the impulsive one, not her sister. But when Nikki was angry—

“He can’t think it’s right to do this,” Nikki protested.

“No, he can’t,” Caprice agreed. “But making a scene here is just going to reflect badly on you. Maybe that’s what he expects you to do, because you face issues head on. Let me go sneak a sample of his groom’s cake, the one Nana thinks is his grandmother’s recipe. We can taste it together. Besides . . .” Caprice waved to a line of people coming their way. “You have customers and you need to drum up business. Put a smile on that pretty face and do it. I’ll be back.”

She noticed her sister make an effort at that smile when prospective clients approached.

Caprice flitted from table to table at first, then honed in on Drew’s table. He had three assistants working with him, and it was very easy to just slip a plate with the groom’s cake from the table and carry it along with her. When she reached Nikki’s stand again, Nikki stepped away from the servers, letting her assistants take over. Then she and Caprice and Juan put their heads together in a quiet corner as they each took a bite of the chocolate walnut groom’s cake.

“I hate to say it,” Juan said, watching Nikki carefully, “but he’s nailed this. Every groom in town will probably want it.”

Caprice threw her assistant a warning look.

“Sorry,” Juan mumbled.

Nikki sighed. “You’re right. It’s delicious. But I just can’t believe he came up with it himself. If it’s his grandmother’s recipe, does she know he used it?”

There were lots of possibilities, Caprice supposed, giving Drew the benefit of the doubt. He might have heard about his grandmother’s cake and decided to try to replicate it. But if he wasn’t good at creating recipes, that would be darn hard to do. Maybe Drew’s grandmother had just handed over the recipe. After all, giving it to her grandson was much different than giving it to an acquaintance, right?

Nikki’s table was becoming deluged with customers wanting to sample her food, as well as examine the menus. This was her sister’s chance to grow her business, to spread the word about her services, to let new customers realize how good a cook she was.

Suddenly Bella appeared at the table and checked out the line of people taste-testing Nikki’s food. “She’s doing great.”

“What are you doing here?” Caprice asked.

“Joe took the kids to the park so I could stop in. I knew Nikki needed some support. But she looks like she’s doing fine.”

“For now,” Caprice said, with some doubt in her voice. “Did you stop at Drew Pierson’s table?”

Bella lowered her voice. “I didn’t want to tell Nikki, but his food is good. I wasn’t going to mention it.”

“She already knows. He stole her recipe for the horseradish-glazed beef. She’s wondering whose recipe he stole for the cake.”

Seeing that Nikki was too busy for conversation, Bella nodded to the runway show across the room. “Let’s take a walk over to those bridal dresses.”

Bella had an opinion about everything, and never hesitated to express it. Passing a table filled with decorations for wedding centerpieces, she said, “They look cheap. I’d never put them on my table at a reception.”

Caprice smiled. No, Bella would want quality all the way, even if she had to cut corners somewhere else to pay for it.

A dais and stairs had been set up near the bridal dress vendors. Now a crowd was gathering around that area, and Caprice suspected why. Models would be showing off some of those wedding dresses.

Bella grabbed Caprice’s arm and pulled her along, snaking around women until they both had a good vantage point about five feet from those stairs.

“We don’t need to be so close,” Caprice murmured.

“Yes, we do. You’re interested, aren’t you? I mean, you and Grant are dating, and he’s what you want, isn’t he? You sent Seth packing so Grant could be your exclusive.”

Her exclusive. Just what did
that
mean?

“But we’re not . . .” Caprice waved her hand at the model climbing the steps who stopped on the high dais and smiled at everyone around. “We’re not
this
serious.”

Bella faced Caprice squarely, staring straight into her eyes. “When you close your eyes at night, do you see Grant’s face? When you wake up in the morning, do you think of him? Aren’t you weaving dreams about kids and dogs and a minivan?”

Caprice was always straight with her sisters. “Just because I’m thinking of Grant that way doesn’t mean he’s thinking of
me
that way. And I already have a van.”

“You’re in denial,” Bella warned her. “If you don’t accept what you’re feeling, Grant won’t either. You have trust issues, Caprice. I know that. You’ve been hurt before. But you have to forget about Craig going to California to college and sending you a Dear Caprice e-mail. You have to move on, past Travis going back to his ex-wife. You’re the one with that antique silent butler full of affirmations. You’ve got to look ahead, not back, and embrace it. That’s what Father Gregory told me and Joe—embrace our future. That’s what you need to do too.”

That was sage advice coming from Bella. Apparently she and Joe had been listening carefully to Father Gregory when they’d had counseling sessions with him, and they’d taken everything he had said to heart.

She hesitated a moment and leaned close to Bella. “Grant has a past too.”

“I know that,” Bella commiserated. “And losing a child isn’t something he’s going to ever forget. That tragedy ruined his life for a while. But now you can help him really make a fresh start, can’t you?”

Caprice had been telling herself that Grant had to be ready. Maybe she was the one who had to embrace the future first.