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an oversized one for the cutting, with the bride’s and groom’s names on it, like some kind of love song duet.”
“That’s… that’s a good idea.” I wondered, irrelevantly, how a cutting-edge type like Juice even knew about artifacts like vinyl records. “But can you get the oven space?”
“The BBA honchos said I can take over the kitchen this afternoon and call in some friends to help, on account of this being so important to my career.”
“Important?”
“Well, if I pull this off, you’re gonna want to feature me on your web site and urge all your clients to hire me and shit like that, right?”
“Right.” I even smiled. “OK, get started.”
“Already did. There’s a batch of batter in the mixer now. Lemon cake OK?”
“Anything, as long as they arrive on time.”
“I’m all over it.”
I sighed and slumped down in my chair. “Just so it doesn’t end up all over me.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
THERE’S A SAYING AMONG THEATER PEOPLE, AFTER A DISASTROUS dress rehearsal: “It’ll be all right on the night.” After all the tragedy and farce, Paul and Elizabeth’s wedding ceremony was all right on the night. More than all right, in fact. And it brought out the best in everyone.
Everyone including the bride, surprisingly enough. When I called Elizabeth to relate the fate of her cake, bracing myself for the explosion, she astonished me by asking first if I had had been hurt, and only second whether her special-event policy would cover the cost.
“It should,” I told her, “and if it doesn’t, I bet my car insurance will. We’ll work it out. Meanwhile, listen to this great back-up plan…”
“That sounds fine,” she said, when I explained Juice’s idea. “Cake is cake, at this point. The important thing is that they’ve got the killer. Zack Hartmann, of all people! It’s unbelievable. Thank God the police are keeping a lid on it until after the wedding. Paul and I will be in Venice by the time this all hits the headlines.”
“It’s unbelievable, all right. In fact, I’m not sure I do believe it. I’m still wondering about Lester Foy”
“But he’s in jail, too, the bastard. So either way, Tommy’s safe to be best man.”
“Tommy’s going to make it tonight?” My spirits lifted at the thought.
“Yeah, his daughter told us that he’s still pretty shaky, so she’ll have to take him home soon after the ceremony. But he’s determined to be there for Paul.”
“Has his memory come back yet?”
“It’s starting to. Once it does, we’ll know for sure who murdered Mercedes.”
She went on, but I lost the thread of the conversation momentarily. Have I got a best man’s boutonniere? Better call Boris and make sure.
“That’s wonderful, Elizabeth. I’ve got to get back to my phone calls. You and Paul get going on that list of your favorite songs. Juice is waiting to take dictation.”
So the bride and groom had a hilarious afternoon, calling each other with musical ideas while they made ready for their big night. And Boris assured me that he had Tommy covered.
“Of course! Boutonniere for best man is more special than for groomsmen, and for groom, more special than that. Everything perfect. You will dance with me tonight, Kharnegie? I have good news, and all bridesmaids must dance.”
“Not this bridesmaid, not this time. You can dance with Corinne.”
I could almost hear him shrug, and see the full lower lip jutting from his thornbush of a beard. “Perhaps.”
Eddie and I plowed through the rest of the Lamott/ Wheeler checklists, and then he went off to mail the announcements while I hobbled downstairs to meet Lily. I was running too late to use Elizabeth’s stylist, who would be leaving the EMP while I was still checking in with my vendors, so Lily and I poured some wine and got to work. We spent half an hour giggling in my tiny bathroom, employing the entire contents of my cosmetics case to prepare me for my supporting role.
Lily was as good as any stylist—you can learn a lot playing Cleopatra. My hair is curly to start with, but she fluffed it out even more and gelled it into a dramatic coppery mane. Then she used three different eyeshadows and a lot of liner to make my so-so hazel eyes look huge and luminous, and finished off with shimmery lipstick and a spritz of perfume.
I blinked at the face in the mirror. “Wow.”
“Wow is right,” said Lily. “Come on, let’s get you into that bra.”
I held and she taped, and once the underpinnings were in place, I