Veiled in Death. Stephanie Blackmoore

only fair. She’s fourteen and this would drastically change her life. If Garrett and I even consider it.”

      “Summer is the loveliest young woman, Mallory,” my mother added. “But I also know you and Garrett will add to your family. The more the merrier!”

      I gave my mother what felt like a thin-lipped smile and turned back to the broccoli salad, effectively ending this discussion.

      But my mom wasn’t finished. She bulldozed on with horrifying and admirable aplomb. “If you and Rachel hire an assistant tomorrow, you and Garrett could get things going and take a nice, long maternity leave. Why,” she added slyly, “you could even hand the reins of the business over to Rachel for a while!”

      Oh no, she didn’t.

      My power-hungry sister literally licked her glossy, glittery lips. “That’s a brilliant idea, Mom. Mallory, you can take a well-deserved break and I’ll show you what I can do.”

      I stifled a giggle at this ambush and couldn’t even act mad. My mom and sister were being ridiculous. I was still inwardly reeling at my mother’s allusion to Garrett and I “getting things going.” But not worried, because it ultimately didn’t concern her. It was more worrying that my mom was pushing this plan in a bid to award my sister with more responsibility. I felt like these two had colluded.

      But Mom had already moved on to less weighty subjects. “I will be there when you get your dress, Mallory. Rachel and I are planning this wedding for you. We’re family. Maybe it would be best if we skipped Bev’s little shop.” My mom spat out the seamstress and dress-store owner’s name in a little sibilant hiss.

      I suppressed my eye roll and answered in a calm tone. “Don’t worry, Mom, you’ll be there.” No way was I going to mention the ethereal sundress Bev and I had stumbled upon in the Antique Emporium as a possible dress contender. The fact I’d discovered it with Bev instead of her would have sent my mom reeling over the edge.

      “Well, I really must be going.” Mom glanced at her plum-colored watch and gathered an equally hued leather bag. “I have a meeting with a client, but I’ll be back for dinner.”

      Rachel and I gave our mother a cheery wave of a send-off, then collapsed into a gale of laughter.

      “That was too intense,” Rachel sputtered.

      “Mom is too intense,” I corrected. “The nerve of her demanding grandbabies!”

      “She’s right about our assistant search, though,” Rachel cautiously began. “I’m not, um, pushing for you to get married and knocked up or anything, but you do work too hard in general. And with my cake business busier than ever, we need to hire someone who will see this as a long-term career rather than a part-time gig while they’re finishing school.”

      I nodded and recalled the spreadsheets and reconfiguring my sister and I had done to make this a full-time position with good benefits and room to grow. The three candidates we’d be interviewing seemed like they’d be good fits, and it would be hard to make a hiring choice. Which reminded me.

      “We have one more candidate, Rach.”

      My sister set down her second goblet of lemonade a bit too hard on the counter, sloshing the pale yellow nectar over the edge. Whiskey the calico rushed over to sniff the dripping puddle forming on the floor. The cat turned her nose up at the acidic drink and instead sauntered over to her water dish.

      “You what? Without consulting me? No way. Cancel the interview.” Rachel’s pretty green eyes flashed with anger.

      I sighed and placed a hand on my hip. Rachel wanted to be an equal partner in the business, but had increasingly been pulled in the direction of her baking side business and her relationship with Miles. “I’d hoped you wouldn’t mind one more addition. She’s slated to interview right after our first three candidates. I think you’ll agree she’s so promising that we couldn’t let this opportunity pass.”

      But my ringing endorsement of Pia only riled Rachel further. “It sounds like this person is basically hired, Mallory. Mom is right. I need more of a say here.”

      I opened and closed my mouth like a beached fish while I gathered my thoughts and tempered my own annoyance. “I don’t think that’s exactly what Mom said. And since when are you taking advice from Mom?”

      Rachel bristled. “So just who is this person?”

      I sighed. “Pia Battles. There.” I touched my cell phone’s screen. “I just forwarded you her CV and a link to her web portfolio. She has ample event-planning experience, and she just moved back to Port Quincy for the foreseeable future.”

      But Rachel didn’t appear to have heard anything beyond the surname Battles.

      “Is she related to Tabitha?” Rachel spoke the name with icy disdain.

      “Yes, she’s Tabitha’s little sister, just graduated from college in D.C.”

      “Absolutely not.”

      I shook my head at my sister’s decree. A few summers ago, she’d dated Tabitha’s ex, to disastrous results. Tabitha had tried to warn Rachel, and received an earful. The women were civil, but would never be friends.

      I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

      Rachel had learned her epic grudge-holding skills from our mom and was destined to detest Tabitha forever. Just as my mom would never be friends with Bev.

      I sighed and turned from my sister to put the pitcher of lemonade into the refrigerator. “I’m sorry, Rach. I should have run this by you. But the interviews are tomorrow, and I just added Pia on. We don’t have to hire her. But I want to do her the courtesy of keeping the interview. And I hope you will give her a chance. Whatever happened between you and Tabitha shouldn’t poison your opinion of her little sister. They’re different people, after all.”

      My sister placed a fist under her chin and sighed. The chandelier reflected off of her sparkly bronze acrylics. She shrugged. “I’m a professional. I’ll give her a shot.”

      Later that evening my mom, sister, stepdad, and I gathered around the table for an evening of chitchat and familial fun. While my parents had their own abode, it was always fun to host them for dinner. We had a good time, no doubt because we all carefully chose to avoid the landmine topics of earlier in the day. I regaled everyone with a more detailed version of my impromptu showdown with Helene. All seemed well. The pretty but ripped veil was tucked away in the safe in my office. I fell into bed that night with a full heart. My family was a bit crazy, but they loved me fiercely. Whatever happened with my wedding, and with the heart-pounding conversation I’d soon have with Garrett about having kids someday, everything would be fine.

      At least that’s what I told myself.

      * * *

      “Two down and one to go.” My sister seemed to melt into the loveseat we were sharing as we interviewed candidates for the assistant wedding-planner position. I’d been impressed with my sister’s professionalism this morning after her reaction yesterday to granting Pia an interview.

      “Macy and Simon were incredible. It’ll be hard to choose between them.” My sister closed her eyes and seemed to shut down any discussion, too.

      “Not so fast, sis.” I realized Rachel’s apparent acceptance of Pia’s interview was anything but. She was just banking on our other candidates being so good we could bypass Tabitha’s little sister altogether. Fine. I’d play my sister’s game. For now. But she couldn’t stop Pia walking in the door in T-minus-ten-minutes.

      “Macy and Simon would both do a wonderful job.” I acquiesced and played along. “I think we’ll finally have a permanent assistant.”

      But Rachel seemed to catch on to my performance. “I’m still mad at you, Mallory. You’re not off the hook just yet.” Rachel’s voice dropped to a low grumble. “I was in on selecting the other three candidates. I still can’t believe you added