Diversify right into the hands of con artists and Ponzi schemes, apparently.
“You know,” I continue, “Charlotte mentioned that Tessa was being very particular about payment schedules for the wedding vendors. It must be stressful coordinating all those financial details now that she’s gone.”
Bea’s jaw tightens until it looks as if it might snap. “Yes, well, Tessa was thorough about her billing practices. She had a business to run.”
Thorough like a tick,she thinks acidly.That woman was charging premium prices for basic services and acting like we should be grateful for the privilege. And that was before I found out what other services she was providing. Some things are worth more than money to protect.
I inch back. I wonder what that could be?
“Did you have much interaction with her during the planning process?”
“More than I would have preferred,” Bea admits, her gaze drifting to where Charlotte has somehow ended up on stage, riding the bare back of one of the performers while shrieking with laughter.
My daughter, the social media influencer, getting piggyback rides from half-naked cowboys at a strip club. If her father could see her now, he’d roll over in his grave. Though considering the financial mess he left us in, maybe this is exactly what we deserve. At least she’s happy. For now. Until she finds out there’s no trust fund waiting for her after the wedding.
“Charlotte seems to be enjoying herself.” I nod to the stage where she’s currently spanking two different men.
“She’s always been...spirited,” Bea replies with a frown. “Though I have to say, I’m not entirely comfortable with some of the people she’s chosen to surround herself with for this wedding.”
“Oh? Anyone in particular?”
“Well, I don’t trust Kiki as far as I can throw her,” Bea says bluntly. “That woman has an agenda, mark my words. She shows up to her ex-boyfriend’s wedding looking like she stepped off a magazine cover, playing the supportive friend?Please. I’ve been around long enough to recognize a woman plotting to get her man back.”
I see right through her.Her thoughts continue with venom.She’s biding her time, waiting for the perfect moment to make her move. And I have a feeling she’ll strike any minute now.
I hate to say it, but I think she’s right.
“What about the groomsmen?” I ask. “Conrad seems energetic.” I frown in Georgie’s direction when I say it.
Where is Georgie, anyway?
“Conrad...” Bea shudders delicately. “He’s a cad of the highest order.”I’m not entirely sure Piers is far behind him, to be perfectly honest. And Conrad has been sniffing around Charlotte like a dog inheat while Piers just stands there letting it happen. What kind of man doesn’t protect his own fiancée? Though given what I suspect about his finances, maybe he’s hoping Conrad will steal her away and solve his problems for him. Two broke men fighting over my daughter’s bank account. I’m just living the dream.
“Wow, that is quite an assessment,” I say carefully.
Is Piers really broke? Or maybe Bea is just so frustrated with everything this week that her thoughts are shooting off in all directions.
“I’ve lived long enough to recognize character flaws,” Bea says crisply. “Conrad thinks every woman is impressed by his investment banking credentials and his gym membership. And Piers...” She pauses, choosing her words carefully. “Piers has a tendency to let other people solve his problems for him.”
Like assuming I’ll bankroll his entire wedding without even asking,she thinks furiously.The audacity is breathtaking. I can’t believe I’m getting stiffed with the bill,she thinks with a grunt.How dare Piers just assume I’d cover everything? And poor Charlotte agreed as if it were a given. They’re in their thirties, for Pete’s sake. They’re both gainfully employed—or at least that’s what they lead the world to believe. I’ve seen my daughter’s income statements—she’s not profitable, and I have no proof that the idiot she’s about to legally leash herself to has a single dime rolling around in his bank account. For all I know, he’s expecting to live off her earnings while hiding his own financial disasters. And if the Ponzi scheme rumors are true, Piers won’t be headed to the country club—he’ll be headed to prison.
Ponzi scheme? What?
And is he really letting his soon-to-be mother-in-law hoof the financial weight of his wedding? I know in the past it was traditional for the bride’s family to foot the bill, but for some reason, I didn’t think Piers and Charlotte were doing that entirely. Besides, Bea is a widow—and apparently, a broke widow at that.
“Well,” she says, “at least Charlotte chose a beautiful venue forthe wedding. Thank you for hosting it at the inn on such short notice.”
“Of course,” I say without hesitating. “Anything for the bride and groom’s happiness. And you’re very generous.” I mean it, too. “Not every mother would be so supportive.”
“Charlotte deserves the wedding of her dreams,” Bea says firmly. “Even if it means I have to mortgage what’s left of my dignity to pay for it.”
If Frank hadn’t been such a gambling fool, none of this would be necessary. Charlotte would have had her trust fund, I’d have my retirement security, and we wouldn’t be scrambling to maintain appearances while our bank account dwindles to nothing.
Oh wow, my heart just breaks for the woman.
Before I can probe deeper into this goldmine of information, the music suddenly shifts to something with more banjo and far less clothes.
“Ladies!” the announcer’s voice booms across the club. We need some volunteers for our next performance! How about some beautiful girls from the audience?”
