The Wedding Caper Read Online Free Page B

be
much to learn, all things considered. I might live in the North now, but my
genteel Southern upbringing would surely give me an added advantage. If anyone
understood the importance of the unspoken rules of society, a proper lady from
Mississippi would.
    Hmm. Turned out, there was a bit more to this than met the eye.
Some of the questions threw me a little.
    How do
you receive a compliment? Graciously, of course, offering one in return.
    Do you
take a gift to the hostess of a party? Hmm. Looks like I owe Sheila a gift for
that little soirée she held last Saturday night.
    Does the
twenty-first-century man still open the door for a woman? If he knows what’s
good for him.
    If a
wedding is called off, should the bride return the engagement ring? Whoa,
Nellie. Stop right there. Return a diamond? Are you kidding?
    On and on
it went. After a while, I had to rest my eyes. I pondered the things I’d read.
For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out how “seating party guests in
appropriate places” at my next big event could help me solve the Clark County
Savings and Loan mystery, but I would give this “social awareness” thing my
best shot. Yes, I would be a social butterfly before day’s end.
    Before
day’s end? A gasp
erupted as I glanced at the clock. Five twenty-five? After my escapades at the
bank, the afternoon had pretty much slipped away from me. Warren would arrive
home in less than an hour, prepared to leave for the steakhouse. And me. . .
    Man, oh
man. I flew into action, nearly tripping over poor Sasha in the process. “I’m
sorry, little one.” I gave her a scratch behind the ears, but she didn’t
respond with her usual burst of joy. She’s probably still mad at me for leaving
her at the bank. I crouched down to make a proper apology, one befitting a lady
of honor. “I’m truly sorry for tying you to the flagpole, Sasha.” Her tail gave
a hint of a wag. “And I promise not to do it again.” This time she leapt into
my arms, as always, tongue lapping at my face in shameless glee. “Atta girl.” One more pat on the back for my canine crime-solving partner and I
sprinted off to the bathroom.
    It never
ceases to amaze me, the ability of a woman to get ready for an “event’ in a
hurry. Truly, this has become almost an art form for me. I managed to shower,
dress, curl my hair, and apply makeup—all within a matter of forty-five
minutes. Granted, my shoes didn’t match, my eyeliner came out a bit heavier on
the right eye than the left, and my blue silk blouse required rebuttoning , but all-in-all , I
think I made remarkable time.
    As I
headed to the closet to fetch the proper shoes—a lovely pair of fall
pumps—I heard Sasha let out a joyful “yip” from the living room. Ah. Warren’s home. I gave myself another once-over in the
full-length mirror. Not bad, not bad. The face staring back at me conveyed
genteel confidence. Etiquette, schmetiquette . I’ve got this thing covered.
    Less than
an hour later, we met up with Brandi and her fiancé, Scott, at Clarksborough’s first-ever “fancy” steakhouse. CC’s
Steaks-n-More practically buzzed with excitement and some of it rubbed off on
me. I couldn’t still my nerves and the chaos of the place didn’t help much. I
glanced down one more time, just to make sure I’d remembered to put on my
skirt. I’ve had that dream one too many times, I guess. You know the
one—where you show up in public dressed in little more than your smile?
    Brandi
and Scott must’ve picked up on my nervousness. He nodded and smiled as she
whispered, “You look great, Mom. They’re going to love you.”
    God bless
that precious daughter of mine. She hit the nail right on the head this time
around. For whatever reason, I was a little nervous about meeting Scott’s
parents. Sure, they were supposed to be wonderful people, but what if they
didn’t like us? What if we didn’t get along or had nothing in common? Would
Brandi’s new mother-in-law sweep in and take