14
Sergeant Boyd, whom we’d always only ever called “Boyd,” had arrived and immediately gone off looking for me up one of the hiking trails. Billie, apparently, had not bothered to tell anyone where I was.
“Man, I thought I was going to lose my job over you being abducted or something,” he said, running his carrot-shaped fingers through his unfashionable black crew cut when I reappeared in the kitchen, showered, shampooed, and dressed in clean clothes. “In fact, lose my job? Forget my job. Schulz would’a killed me.”
Julian just shook his held. Yolanda, who wore her hair up in an intricate cascade of curls, giggled. Apparently, she thought Boyd was kidding. Yolanda looked happy, anyway. After their set-to the other day, maybe Billie was giving Yolanda a wide berth.
“C’mon, Sergeant,” she said playfully, “taste one of these. You won’t want to go looking for anyone else the rest of your time here.”
She plucked a paper napkin from a pile and put what looked like an empanada on top. I peered more closely at the napkins. They said,
“Here’s one for you, Goldy,” Yolanda said demurely. “Julian won’t want one, because it has meat in it.”
I tasted her offering: it was crunchy on the outside, with a smooth pork filling and a chile finish with a definite kick. “Yum,” I said. After all my time in the hot pool, I was strangely famished. I was also strangely
Julian grabbed me. “You need to drink some water or a sports drink or something. You’re dehydrated from being in that hot pool for so long.”
“You were in the pool
I gave them an abbreviated version of Charlotte’s request to find Billie, my hunting expedition, the mishap with the plates, and finally, my sulphur-water diving escapade.
Yolanda held her hand up in an almost-closed position, as if she were handling an invisible potato. “Ay, that woman Billie! I curse her and her wedding—”
“You don’t need to go that far,” I protested, ever wary of evil people bent on providing real curses. “We’ll all be fine.”
Yolanda lifted her chin. “I curse her anyway.”
Boyd and Julian, who were apparently impervious to Yolanda’s cursing, ducked out of her way as they ferried plates from the spa cupboards to the counter where Julian had taped my signs showing where everything should go.
“Victor told Isabelle she had to help with the serving!” Yolanda said, her face ablaze. “We’re going to have too many servers as it is, and now Isabelle? And it’s all because Charlotte complained about her, too.” Yolanda lowered her voice. “Isabelle? She was kissing the boyfriend of Charlotte?”
“Well,” I began, “he was kissing her…I’m just so sorry you and Isabelle are having to give up your Sunday.”
“Don’t be,” she said, playful again. “I kind of like your friend Boyd. I just broke up with my boyfriend, so I’m available. And Boyd is cute! Get it? Boyd-friend?”
I didn’t mention that I’d half-promised Boyd to Marla for a dance at the reception. Man, these things could get complicated.
But before we could chitchat further, Julian bolted into the kitchen.
“Boss man’s coming,” he hissed.
Yolanda immediately turned back to her deep fryer, and I opened the first box I could find, which contained the chilled crab cakes.
“I see you’ve begun working,” Victor boomed. “Yolanda volunteered to help you,” he went on, and only I could hear Yolanda’s tiny groan at this blatant lie. “Isabelle will be along around five. She’s also offered to help.”
“I really don’t need them—,” I began, but Victor held up his hand.
“They absolutely insisted,” he lied again. He squinted at me. “You want to tell me what you were staring at inside the Smoothie Cabin?”
I shrugged. “I was looking for my godfather, Jack.”
“And what was he looking for in there?” Victor pressed.
“I don’t know,” I said truthfully. “Have you asked him?”
Victor pursed his lips and gave me an angry look. “You just happened to be going by there just when your godfather just happened to be scrounging around for something, after breaking into private property—”
“Oh, that reminds me,” Julian said. “Speaking of breaking? There was an accident up at the hot pool.”
Victor blanched. “An accident? Was someone hurt? Did you call an ambulance? What happened?”
“If you’ll be quiet, I’ll tell you,” Julian said evenly. Everybody else was cowed by Victor Lane, but not my assistant. Hooray.
“Young man, what is your name? Maybe we need to clarify your relationship to this spa,” Victor said. “You are here because I allowed you to be here. I can easily ban you from the premises, starting right now.” Victor snapped his fingers to make his point.
“You want to hear about this accident, or not?” Julian said, unfazed.
I really, really needed Julian to help me with this wedding reception, so I plunged in with, “Billie and Craig were up at the pool with some dishes and whatnot. They asked me to pick up after them, which I did, but the dishes slipped out of my hand and into the pool, and I couldn’t find them all, so they’re probably at the bottom of the—”
Victor Lane turned on his heel. As he stomped out of the kitchen, he shouted over his shoulder, “This is why I refused to hire you!”
“And you’re showing why she wouldn’t work for you!” Julian called after him.
I closed my eyes. When I opened them, Julian and Yolanda were laughing so hard, Julian was doubled over and Yolanda had tears coming out of her eyes.
“Since this is undoubtedly the last time I’ll be working here,” I said calmly, “could we please, please get going on this reception?”
“Sure, boss,” said Julian. His face had turned bright pink from all the delirium, but he made an effort to read over my checklist.
Boyd shuffled back into the kitchen. “What’s so funny?” he demanded. “Victor Lane told me he wanted some mulch spread in the new flower beds. So I spread the mulch, rewashed my hands, and now I’ve missed out on the big joke.”
I told Julian to take Boyd out to the dining room, along with their checklist, if the latest tale in the Victor Lane saga absolutely, positively had to be repeated. Spreading mulch in the new flower beds? What was the matter with Victor Lane, anyway?
Thank goodness, I couldn’t contemplate that question because we had too much to do. We worked diligently over the next two hours, making sure every detail was being attended to. Yolanda kept us supplied with scrumptious Mexican appetizers, and Julian had even brought some nonalcoholic beer that we could have with them.
The ceremony itself was due to start at six, which meant guests would start to show up around half past five. Charlotte and Jack arrived, but I didn’t get a chance to visit with Jack, as the photographers showed up at the same time. Charlotte, who was wearing a flounced scarlet blouse and black pencil skirt, told the photographers to take lots of pictures of the spa exterior until it was half an hour before the wedding, at which point they were to come and find her. She then announced that she needed Jack to help with getting the groomsmen ready. Jack, who looked dapper in a white shirt and navy suit, winked at me.
Charlotte caught the wink and cleared her throat. She said she was just checking in the kitchen to make sure we were on schedule. Then, once Jack was helping the groomsmen, she was off to make sure the hairdresser and makeup artist were hard at work on Billie and the bridesmaids.
“Billie and the Bridesmaids!” Yolanda singsonged. “Sounds like a rock group!”
