she had to be minutes away from putting on her dress; the wedding started in less than two hours. I had to act. And fast.
Back in the room, I put the flowers on the bed and pulled out my phone to text Alex. There was a message from him already waiting for me.
Decoy is upstairs. Linen closet across the hall.
You’re my favorite, I texted back. Is Alicio back?
Just now, he responded. I’m waiting for Victor to leave him alone, then I’ll confront him. Are you ready?
My stomach tightened. It was now or never. Ready, I responded. Let’s do this.
I felt both completely invigorated—one doesn’t get to star in her own spy movie every day—and completely nauseous all at the same time. I looked around the room, trying to calculate my first move. The room bustled with activity and no one was particularly paying me very much attention, but if I up and grabbed the dress, hanging on the outside of the closet door across the room, and walked out, someone was going to notice.
Sasha’s phone rang. She reached for it, a flash of something like anger crossing her features before she stood and hurried to the balcony where she answered the call.
I only wasted a second wondering who had called her and why it had seemed to bother her so much. I didn’t care why she was upset. I didn’t care about anything but getting Paige’s dress and getting as far away from the LeFrancs as possible. Digging deep to find my very best acting skills, I crossed the room and reached for the dress.
I had an excuse at the ready—Elaine had texted me and asked that I bring the dress to her for one more quick steaming before Sasha put it on—but no one even asked. I’d been helping them all morning. I’d apparently earned their trust. Or, maybe just their disinterest.
I paused outside the door, heart hammering in my ears and took a deep breath. Almost there. Crossing to the linen closet, I pulled it open. Towels, towels, towels, sheets, sheets, sheets. No dress. I scanned the shelves up and down, shifting things this way and that, but it’s not like a wedding dress is an easy thing to hide. There was nothing in that closet.
“Looking for this?”
I spun around. Elaine stood behind me, the decoy dress, in all its tacky glory hanging from her hand.
“Um . . . I . . .” I had nothing. No explanation. No reason for why I’d hidden a spare wedding dress in a linen closet. Or why I had Sasha’s actual wedding dress in my hand.
Elaine stepped toward me, fire in her eyes. “I think you better tell me what you’re up to.”
“It’s not what you think,” I said, taking a step back. Except, it probably was. It didn’t take a genius to realize I was trying to swap out one dress for the other.
Before either of us could say another word, Sasha’s door flew open and the bride herself tumbled into the hallway, her cell phone still in her hand. Her eyes darted from me to Elaine, then back again. I pulled Paige’s dress tighter against my chest.
“Solomon, dear,” she said into her phone. “Find Alicio. Tell him we have a problem upstairs.”
I stilled. Solomon. Solomon her brother who was helping her embezzle funds? It wasn’t a very common name. But that meant . . . Solomon knew Alicio?
Time slowed. With sickening clarity, everything clicked into place.
Alicio hadn’t caught Sasha in her embezzling because Alicio was in on it. That’s why he’d threatened Alex when he’d come close to discovering the truth. He wasn’t trying to defend Sasha. He was trying to protect himself. I didn’t have any hard and fast evidence, just a feeling in my gut. But I was right. I knew I was right. Which meant the conversation Alex was about to have with Alicio was going to go very differently than Alex expected.
“You little sneak,” Sasha said, her voice low and menacing. “You better give that to me right now.”
I took another step backward. “No.” It was stupid to back up. I was cornered. The only way out of the house was to get through Sasha and Elaine. What did I think I was going to do? Fight her for it? Six months ago, I might have argued I was capable of out-punching the impeccably dressed Sasha Wellington. I mean, she didn’t even like to open her own coffee creamer for fear of breaking a nail.