“Welcome to the family!” Pop says, and we each raise our glasses again.
The bubbles must tickle Alice’s nose, because she giggles.
“What are your plans? Have you set a date yet?” Ma asks.
I chuckle. “We haven’t even been engaged a full day yet.”
It’s clear she’s thrilled, but give us at least a week to discuss it. And even in a week, we won’t have concrete plans.
“Well, I’ve been thinking about this for a while,” Julian says. “So I have ideas.”
I whip my head in his direction.
Seriously?
This perks Ma up even more.
Julian fills everyone, including me, in on his plans.
The ceremony will be held at that small, charming church on the other side of town, with lots of white roses, candlelight, and soft harp music. Everyone keeps a straight face at the mention of a harp.
“Someone will recite a meaningful poem, perhaps Alice, and someone else will sing something meaningful but also uplifting. Gianna will look stunning, of course, in white, and I’ll wear a silver-gray tux.”
“I can imagine it all,” Ma breathlessly says. “How lovely.”
It’s something, alright.
“There are several amazing spots for the reception, but I’m enamored by Oheka Castle in Huntington,” Julian continues, and a breath lodges in my throat. He gives me a reassuring smile, probably thinking I approve of his solo decisions after being engaged for twelve hours and not that I’m shocked he’s thought it through this much. He’s had to have been thinking about this for some time. No one plans this much detail from just this morning. Then again, he’s had the ring for a year and made reservations here a month ago. He’s really been planning. I hope he hasn’t booked florists and musicians yet too.
“I don’t have any family left,” he says, which makes Ma frown and pout. “But you have a big one, so we’ll invite everyone. Your sister and her family, Ma, and yours as well, Pop. If you want.”
Julian looks eager for their approval.
Pop looks less than enthusiastic about seeing his sister and brother-in-law again, and I can’t blame him. Once every decade seems like enough.
“Have you considered anything else?” Ma asks, and Pop looks relieved he doesn’t have to decide right now. You know, for a wedding I’ve had no input on that likely won’t take place for another year or more. Especially if he wants to book that castle. They have to stay busy.
“A sit-down dinner. Probably a choice of grilled chicken, steak, or salmon. A live band, the photographer. Lots of dancing and champagne. An open bar. Oh, and a multi-tier vanilla cake with fresh strawberries in between the layers.”
I must make a face, because he glances at me from his peripheral vision and immediately says, “Or something else.”
I hate fruit in my cake. Side by side is fine, but not in the same bite. It’s a textural thing. Does he really know me? Because none of this sounds appealing at all.
Thankfully, our food arrives, so Julian is forced to take a breath.
“You sure thought of it all, huh?” I ask and am grateful when he only grins and doesn’t respond. I’m not sure exactly what I’m feeling, but happy and excited isn’t quite it. It’s more like stunned and anxious. Maybe even a little annoyed. How does a guy plan an entire wedding without discussing it with his fiancée?
Luckily, my pasta dish is exquisite, and we all fall silent for several minutes. When Ma opens her mouth to say something, I cut her off and ask, “So Alice, how’s school?”
This isn’t the first time I’ve put my niece on the spot by changing the subject. Hopefully she’ll forgive me. Someday. Like when she’s an adult and her mother wants to discuss something she doesn’t.
She shrugs and says, “It’s school.”
Izzie comes to my rescue with the latest stories about Giovanni. He’ll be two later this month, and most of our conversations revolve around the toddler. Most of the time I don’t care. Sometimes it gets monotonous, but I try to be understanding. Right now…I’m thrilled. Anything to get off wedding chatter.
The rest of our meal goes by smoothly. Another bottle of champagne arrives, as well as the dessert menus. I can’t possibly eat more, but Izzie asks if I’ll split a slice of chocolate mousse cake since Alice has her eye on gelato and Paulie wants cheesecake.
“Sure. Order it. I’m going to run to the restroom.”
I grab my tiny, black beaded purse, just big enough for my phone, license, and a tube of lipstick, and stand. I left my keys, which didn’t fit in the purse, in Julian’s glove box. I circle the table and head out into the bar area. The signs for the bathrooms were this way.
The bar is almost full to capacity now, and there’s a third bartender shaking a martini. Light-brown hair, a tanned complexion, and a slender build is all I can make out from his position. His profile looks familiar, but my bladder requires I keep moving and don’t stop to stare.
I push open the heavy bathroom door and see three stalls. Two of them have open doors, and the far one is shut. The sink area is a mess with water droplets and bunched-up brown paper towels, but otherwise, the room seems relatively clean. Or as clean as a public bathroom can be.
I enter the middle stall and go about my business. When I’m done, I flush, glance at the floor, and notice something red on the tile. Like blood. My first thoughts are someone has sanitary needs, but what if someone is hurt and needs medical attention? Paulie is an EMT. I take a step back when I realize the blood is moving, and my shoulder bumps into the stall door. I fling it open and rush out into the center of the room backwards, watching the blood seep along the tile.
“Hey, are you okay in there?” I shout.
No one answers, not even a groan.
I knock on the stall door, and it gently pushes open. My stomach is in my throat, and I know whatever I’m about to see isn’t something worth celebrating. I use my foot to push the door open wider, grateful no one else is in here due to how high I have to lift my leg.
My initial thoughts of getting Paulie to help fly out of my head.
I gasp and cover my mouth.
Slumped on the floor, wedged between the corner and the toilet, is the woman Roberto was arguing with earlier. His ex-wife. Food critic Tamara Evans.
She’s fully clothed, and there’s a dark-red stain on her pretty dress, with a black handle sticking out of the side of her back in the center of the stain.
A knife. She’s been stabbed.
She has to be dead. She’s in a puddle of her own blood.
Oh no! Poor woman.
How can this be? I just saw her alive and…arguing with her ex.
I pull my phone from my purse and text Enzo.
Ladies’ room. Dead body.
If I know him, which I do, he’ll remain calm and slip away from the table without making the rest of the family suspicious. I’m not so sure I’d be able to do the same. My insides feel jittery.
I slip my phone back inside my bag and catch movement in the stall, in my peripheral vision.
Is she alive? I should text Paulie too then.
Before I alert him though, I stare at her, waiting to see her open her eyes or mouth, for her fingers to move, but what I see makes my body freeze.
CHAMPAGNE, SUNRISE & DEAD GUYS (c) Jennifer Fischetto, Gemma Halliday Publishing, 2023. Shared with permission from the publisher.
CHAMPAGNE, SUNRISE & DEAD GUYS by Jennifer Fischetto
Gianna Mancini Mysteries #9
Gianna Mancini has a knack for finding dead bodies…which is convenient since she can communicate with the dearly departed. However there are some occasions where she wishes the gift didn’t follow. For example—dinner with her family at a posh restaurant where Gianna has a special announcement to celebrate. But when a trip to the ladies room results in Gianna discovering food critic Tamara Evans stabbed to death, the dream of a ghost-free night is dashed.
Tamara turns out to be a first class snob, and Gianna decides she has no reason to get involved with this recently departed soul. That is until her homicide detective brother asks her for assistance with her special gift in finding Tamara’s killer. With an angry ex-husband, a young smitten bartender, a grouchy restaurateur Tamara gave a scathing review to, and even some of Gianna’s family members all making the suspect list, pinning down the culprit is not going to be as easy as she hopes.
And when Gianna’s snooping goes too far, will the killer determine that this is Gianna’s last course
Mystery Cozy | Mystery Culinary | Horror [Gemma Halliday Publishing, On Sale: April 6, 2023, Paperback, ISBN: 9798215249512 / ]
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About Jennifer Fischetto
Jennifer Fischetto hears voices.
They tell her to wait in the dark for her next unsuspecting victim.
They tell her to kill.
She writes down every whisper, every threat promise to frighten.
“Write what you know” is easy when you’ve spent your life plotting murder and revenge on annoying classmates and nosy neighbors.
When not burying evidence in her yard, cooking another batch of poisonous brownies, or dealing with ghosts and other supernatural baddies, she sits in the corner of her creaky, damp basement, writing fun, humorous mysteries for teens and adults–to cover her tracks, so no one notifies the FBI or calls for a straitjacket.
Seen as a nice girl, her friends and family assume her books are filled with multiracial romance and journeys of strong, smart, sassy women and girls of all shapes and sizes.
Not dead bodies.
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