“Well, my mum was a bit of an accident,” Charlie said, politely accepting the mimosa. “Grams was excited, Gramps was not. He didn’t want her to keep the baby, you see.”
“What a dick!” Rowena snorted.
“Well,” Charlie sighed, “turns out he was already married with babies of his own on the way. To avoid a scandal, he paid Grams off, and she had my mum in secret. Never met her father, not that I think she’d want to, but there it is.”
“I understand completely,” Rowena said, raising her glass in solidarity. “Me and Roddy’s father was a royal piece of trash, too.”
Charlie’s smile was strained.
Maybe he knew that Cold had killed his own father.
“So! What about wedding planning?” Jimmy asked, reaching for the pitcher to refill his glass. “How did that happen?”
“Helped my best friend plan her wedding and discovered I have quite the talent for it,” Charlie replied easily. He seemed more relaxed at the change in conversation. “I’ve always been good with coordinating things, and I have impeccable style, obviously. It was meant to be.”
“Obviously,” Rowena teased, imitating Charlie’s accent and thoughtfully sipping her mimosa. Her smile was friendly, but her eyes were intently focused. “And how did you meet my brother?”
Jimmy realized that Rowena was probably still just as suspicious of Charlie as he was, and he was grateful for the unspoken support.
“He found me actually,” Charlie said, seeming to sense the increased scrutiny. His smile was shy; laughing, he replied, “Said he wanted nothing but the best for Mr. Poe here. So! That’s what we’re going to do. You want a beach-themed wedding, I will make it happen.”
“Right,” Jimmy said shortly as he offered a strained smile. “Do you have the guest list?”
“Of course,” Charlie said, reaching into his bag and digging around. He pulled out a neatly labeled folder and handed it to Jimmy for his inspection. “Around eighty percent of the guests have already RSVP’d. The invitations were on heavy linen paper, and I wrote all of them by hand in calligraphy—”
“Sounds beautiful,” Jimmy said briskly, seizing the guest list and scanning it quickly. He paused, clarifying, “Wait, how did you already send out invitations?”
“Mr. Legrand had already selected the venue, the date, and time when he hired me,” Charlie replied anxiously. “He didn’t... tell you?”
“I knew he picked the day, but... wait, where are we getting married?”
“The Graham-Wynne House.” Charlie had his phone out, hastily bringing up pictures of a large and very fancy Victorian mansion. “I’m sure you’ve driven by it before! It’s in the historic district of downtown, absolutely lovely. Has its own chapel, ballroom, and conservatory. It’s absolutely gorgeous.”
“That’s gonna hold all these people?”
“Barely,” Charlie snorted. “Fortunately, the conservatory opens up into the Strassen Springs Botanical Gardens. We can hold the ceremony there and the reception in the house proper.”
Jimmy began to read the guest list again. He wasn’t surprised that he recognized many of the names as politicians and other elected officials here with the city. The mayor and the chief of police were even invited. He also found the names of all of the Gentlemen, Dario, Maury, and his father.
What did surprise him were the names he had never expected to see here: Cristian and Luigi Luchesi. There were at least ten other members of the Luchesi family that were on this list, perhaps more if Jimmy decided to be presumptuous about Italian surnames.
Why the hell was Cold inviting members of the family that was trying to kill them?
“An easy way to bring in a beach theme is with the food,” Charlie was saying. “We can have fresh shrimp and crab served on ice in big buffets, whatever you’d like. What sort of fish do you like, Jimmy?”
“Uh...” Jimmy glanced up. “Cooked ones?”
“Right,” Charlie mused. “Perhaps we need to have a proper tasting? There’s a fabulous restaurant, Ingrid’s—have you ever heard of it?”
“Yes. I’ve been with Rod many times.”
It was an exclusive five-star restaurant that had been featured on several national television programs. The waiting list was months long and favored by celebrities passing through the city.
Cold had his own table.
“I bet we could get them to cater,” Charlie said, tapping away excitedly on his phone. “I’m good friends with the chef, Quinn Thornton. I know he’s also a friend of Mr. Legrand’s. If he can squeeze us in for lunch, we could have him design an entire menu for the reception.”
“Wow! Yes!” Jimmy actually smiled. “That would be awesome. I love that place.”
