Chapter 13
After an uneventful afternoon in which neither Pauley nor I discovered anything new or even remotely relevant, I drove out of Timber City and around Lilac Lake toward the Clumsy Penguin and parked close to the structure, jumping out and fighting the weather.
The Penguin had stood on the lakeshore for years, a familiar landmark and one of my favorite bars in the area. I ducked my head against the angry wind, yanked the door open, and stepped inside, shaking off the rain in the entryway.
The smell of burgers and fried food hit me, making my stomach growl. The place was all warm wood from the floors to the tables and even the bar, set with wide windows that looked out over a stormy, lilac-gray lake. Rain pummeled the water, throwing up sprays that caught the dim light from the interior and turned the surface a shifting gunmetal color. I shivered, but I loved it there.
I spotted my sisters at a table close to the bar and waved, winding through the crowd until I reached them. “Sorry I’m late. I was working on the Answer for Nana and lost track of time.” Shrugging out of my coat, I hung it over the back of my chair and sat.
Donna nudged a full glass of red wine toward me. “It’s a cabernet. Not bad.” She already had one in front of her, while Tessa’s glass held something pale and crisp that was probably a Riesling.
“Thanks.” I took a long drink. Rich and warm, the drink exploded on my tongue and heated down to my stomach. “Ooh, I like it. It’s good.”
“Wings and chips are coming,” Tessa said, her green eyes mellow.
I leaned an elbow on the table. “So? What’s up?”
Tessa sipped her wine. “I wanted to ask, because we have to get going on it—what color bridesmaid dresses do you guys want?”
Donna laughed, bright and infectious, and I noted several men at nearby tables turn their heads. Yeah. She had that kind of laugh.
“Tessa, it’s your wedding,” I said. “You’re supposed to choose.”
“I want you both to have what you want,” she said reasonably.
I liked that. “I can wear anything but pale yellow.”
Donna nodded her agreement. “No pale yellow.”
“Well,” Tessa said, reaching into her oversized bag and pulling out a few folded sheets of paper. “I was thinking maybe this green.” She spread the pages on the table, revealing a photo of a nicely cut tea-length dress in a muted sage.
I leaned in. “I like it. It’s pretty.”
Tessa looked at Donna. “What do you think?”
Donna studied the picture. “That’s beautiful. I’d wear it again, that’s for sure.”
Tessa flattened the paper. “Good. Your coloring is different from each other’s, but I think this would suit you both.”
Donna looked Italian. I did not.
I rolled my eyes. “I could wear that.”
“The color will bring out the green in your eyes,” Tessa chirped.
“My eyes are brown,” Donna said dryly, “but I could wear that color.”
Donna could wear anything and look good. She knew it.
A twittering from females near the entrance and the faint squeak of the door pulled my attention toward the entrance. To my surprise, Tessa’s fiancé strode in, scanning the crowd. One woman nearly choked on her drink as he walked by. Yeah, he was that hot.
“I didn’t know Nick was joining us,” I said.
“Neither did I,” Tessa murmured.
Nick spotted us, gave a half-shrug, and made a beeline for the table. He leaned down and kissed Tessa on the mouth, firmly enough to make a statement. When Nick Basanelli made an entrance, he did it with style. He stood tall, lean, all confidence and charisma. “I didn’t know you were here.” He brushed a hand down her arm.
“Really? Then what are you doing in a bar?” Tessa asked, her lips twitching.
