“Come on in. And you are?”
Nicole did a little curtsey in her flapper dress. “I am Ginger Valentine.”
The name suited her perfectly, as Nicole had naturally gorgeous red hair and she’d pinned it up with heart gems.
“Welcome, Ginger. Here are the rules of my establishment. You’d do well to look them over.” Emma handed her the script for Ginger’s character and hid a smile. George, twirly mustache and all, was coming up the walk, with an older woman on his arm. She was wearing a bright pink Mumu and bunny slippers.
It took all of Emma’s concentration to stay in character. “May I help you two?”
George took off his fedora and placed it against his chest. “Ma’am, I happened to be in the neighborhood and ran into this nice neighbor lady of yours. I’m afraid she’s very confused. She seems to think she lives next to an underground bar, but I assured her that’s not the case. This is the laundry place, isn’t it?”
“Did you need your laundry done?” Emma asked.
“As the crow flies, yes I do.” George winked at her. He was much better at this acting stuff than he’d let on.
“And what is your name, sir?”
“Mr. Peabody. And this lady right here is ....” he waited for Betty to fill in the blank, but she looked terrified.
Emma gave her an encouraging smile.
Betty twisted her fingers together. “I’m Agatha Blume.”
Agatha was now supposed to insist on coming inside or she would call the police, but as it was all she could do to squeak out her name, George insisted for her, and the two of them entered. Emma handed them their scripts so they could read their full backstories and know what they were supposed to keep secret about themselves and what they could share while mingling.
“How are you, George?” Granddad asked, and then quickly recovering, moved into his New York accent. “Have we met, young man? I neva forgetta face.”
Emma and George exchanged knowing smiles. Granddad, not wanting to commit to something he didn’t understand, had studied his character with Harriet all week.
Emma put her arms around the two men. “Mr. Peabody, I’d like you to meet Tommy Two Fingers.”
George shook granddad’s hand as if they’d never met before. “Tommy Two Fingers, huh? How’d you get a name like that?”
Granddad narrowed his eyes. “Because when I do this—” He snapped his fingers. “I get whatever I want.”
Emma covered her mouth and turned away to hide her laugh. Granddad’s delivery of that line still made her giggle every time. She’d been hesitant to give him the part, but once she realized letting Granddad be the murder victim would allow him to go off to bed early, the decision made itself.
After topping off everyone’s ‘drinks,’ at the table, Emma headed back to the front door just in time to greet Elton striding up in his three-piece suit with a gaudy pocket watch on a chain.
“Mayor Graft, how nice of you to come.”
Elton gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “I’ve been looking forward to this.”
“Excellent. Let me show you where you’ll be sitting.” Emma had place cards, but she didn’t want to take any chances. She had to ensure Elton and Harriet sat together and were properly introduced.
With a raised eyebrow and a sly point at Elton’s back, Emma alerted Harriet of his arrival, and Harriet stopped fiddling with her flute of cran-apple cider and turned toward them.
“Mayor Graft, this is Kitty Darling. Perhaps you’ve heard of her. She’s a very famous singer.”
Elton took Harriet’s hand and kissed the back of it. “Longtime fan, Miss Kitty.”
Emma had goosebumps. Chemistry galore was going on between those two already. “I’ll just leave you two to chat.”
She turned with a smile and all but ran into George, who looked suspicious and poised to give her a piece of his mind. If she could put it off until after the party, this would all be worth it. Elton and Harriet would both be happy, and George would see he was worrying for nothing.
“Excuse me.” She darted around him, and as if fate had decided to help her out, the doorbell rang, giving her an excuse to flee the dining room again.
This time it was George’s friends, Jane and Finn. Jane wasn’t wearing much of a costume, though she was certainly striking in a nice pair of jeans and a flowy blouse with a long string of pearls. George hadn’t mentioned what she looked like, and Emma couldn’t help a small twinge of jealousy, as ridiculous as it was. Afraid Jane would somehow sense her thoughts, Emma made sure to give them both an extra friendly welcome. Jane’s returning smile was as wooden as a brand new Pinocchio. She stood silently by while Finn, decked out like a Prohibition-era gangster, gave the password and a wink.
