Newlywed Dead by Nancy J. Parra Page B

introduce me as a friend. After all, you know my aunts.”
    Laura blushed. “I’d really like to keep it low key.”
    â€œOh, sure, no problem,” I said. “Is it okay if I secretly film the event? Even though it’s low-key, I’ve found peoplelike to have professional video of the event. We can tell her the chef is filming a documentary. Is that okay?”
    â€œOkay, I guess,” Laura said. “It would be nice to have it on film.”
    â€œGreat. I’ve already gone through as much of her Facebook page as I can without friending her. I don’t want to give it away by friending her. Does she have another website or blog so that I can sort of stalk her a bit and get a good feel for other things she may like?”
    â€œSure,” Laura said, and pulled out a business card. She wrote down a Web address. “You can find her here. Also, she’s a librarian.”
    â€œSeriously?”
    â€œSeriously,” Laura said with a laugh. “She works at the Schaumburg Library and collects cookbooks as a side hobby. It’s why I never have to worry about cooking.”
    â€œSounds like she’ll like the cooking class idea.”
    Laura laughed. “Learning how to make Kung Pao chicken would be really funny.”
    â€œI’m certain it will bring back warm memories of when you first met,” I said, and stood. I held out my hand and shook hers. “Let me do a little more research on Monica and put together a quote for you.”
    â€œGreat,” Laura said, her eyes sparkling. “I’m looking forward to it.”
    The next day I got to the Pavilion fifteen minutes ahead of time. The hostess took me to a large table in the glass corner that looked out at the Chicago skyline from two sides. It was indeed the nicest table in the tearoom. Atthirty stories up the views were spectacular. I had just enough time to look over my notes of things I thought might work for a high society proposal before the ladies arrived. Sugar Fulcrum was fashionably thin with brunette, shoulder length hair that was expertly cut and styled. Today she wore a silk blouse in cream, a Navy blue skirt, and black suede booties. She handed the hostess her coat and gloves. Behind her was Mrs. Thomson, who was also thin. Her blonde hair was styled in a conservative chin length blunt cut. She was dressed as impeccably as Mrs. Fulcrum. Behind them slumped Clark. He wore a leather bomber jacket, graphic T-shirt, and jeans and walked with his hands in his pockets looking bored.
    I stood when the hostess brought them over. We said our hellos and the ladies gave me air kisses on both cheeks. I found the gesture affected, but did the same to make them comfortable. Clark simply flopped down in a chair and greeted me with a shrugged shoulder.
    The waitstaff brought over teas and cakes.
    â€œI hope you don’t mind that I ordered for the table,” Mrs. Fulcrum said as she took a seat. “Now let’s talk proposals.”
    â€œWe want something so spectacular it will make the tabloids as well as the society pages,” Mrs. Thomson said. “We want this to be seen as elegant as JFK Junior’s wedding event.”
    I looked at Clark. “What about you Clark? What do you want for Samantha Lyn?”
    â€œI want her to say yes,” he said and called the waitress over to order a Pepsi.
    â€œI usually get a description of what the potential bride wants, her likes, her dreams, what she and her friends think is wonderful.”
    â€œSamantha Lyn wants over the top, glitter. Think diamonds are a girl’s best friend,” Mrs. Thomson said.
    â€œClark, are there any special moments when you were dating that you might want to recreate?” I ignored Mrs. Thomson and looked at the slouching boy.
    â€œWhatever they want,” he said and thumbed through his phone. “Look, this has been real, but I have to go.”
    â€œDon’t you want more input in