Red Velvet Revenge Read online

  Red Velvet Revenge

  Spirited Sweets Book 3

  Stephanie Damore

  Pink Sapphire Press

  Copyright © 2018 by Stephanie Damore

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Also by Stephanie Damore

  About the Author

  1

  Champagne? Check. Confetti? Check. Caterer? Check.

  "What else am I forgetting?" I said aloud as I walked around the ground floor of London Manor. The last time I had hosted anything, Nick had been alive and at my side and now, well, he was just at my side.

  "It's going to be awesome, hon," Nick said reassuringly.

  "Why did I let them talk me into this? I haven't even so much as planned a birthday party in the last three years, let alone a major event!" I was more than happy to let the new year ring in without the fanfare, but Amelia and my mother insisted a party was a grand idea. Now that the night was here, I was having some serious reservations.

  "It does seem like people are rather excited for tonight," Nick replied.

  "You could say that. Margaret said all of Bleu Clair Bay was planning on attending."

  Okay, maybe I was exaggerating a little bit, but not by much. I was scheduled to have a packed house in t-minus ten minutes. In fact, when I looked out the front windows I could see a line of cars starting to drive up the steep incline to the hilltop estate.

  "Look, the house looks amazing." Nick spread his transparent arms out for me to take it all in. He was right, and I knew it. From the beautiful live Christmas tree with its antique blown-glass ornaments decorated in swirling shades of gold and red, to the evergreen-strung fireplace mantel displaying hurricane lamps glowing with lit white candles, to the expansive gourmet spread laid out buffet-style on the dining room table—everything welcomed guests to come in, eat, and mingle. "Trust me, people are going to love this party," Nick added.

  "It's not them I'm worried about," I mumbled under my breath as my mother swept into the room. She was decked in red sequins from top to bottom with a black velvet wrap for added effect. Like my sister, Autumn, my mom's hair was a fiery, festive shade of red, and it was presently curled and pinned up into a perfect coif.

  "You're not wearing that," my mother said, stopping to take in my appearance.

  I looked down at what I was wearing—-black dress pants, black heels, and a cream sweater. Sure, my hair was nowhere near as fancy as hers, but I did curl the ends and I made sure my manicure was fresh. I wasn’t wearing a fancy dress or nearly as much jewelry as my mom, but I didn't look bad. At least I didn't think so. Now the woman had me second-guessing myself.

  This is what she did to me. Made me an insecure child again. I let out a breath. It had been a long two weeks and my mother was scheduled to stay with us for one more. In my opinion, her visit was about two weeks too many.

  "I'm just saying you could have tried a bit harder to look nice. Who knows, maybe you might meet someone." My mom winked at me before sashaying away to refill her martini glass—her trademark cocktail.

  Nick laughed at my side. He was always amused at my mom's matchmaking schemes. My parents had been very happily married, but when my dad died, my mom wasted no time in the dating department. No one wants to be old and lonely, she had quipped when Autumn pressed her on it. I didn’t have an opinion on the matter, knowing Dad wouldn't have wanted Mother "old and lonely" either. She tended to need someone to look after her.

  "Don't listen to your mother, you look beautiful." Nick whispered into my pearl-studded ear. His comment brought a smile to my lips. Of course, just like my sister, my mother was oblivious to the fact that I shared my life with my ghost of a husband. She was too practical to believe in such nonsense, or so she had told me the one time I attempted to broach the subject with her. Ellen, or as I had recently started to refer to her—my other mother—fully accepted Nick even if she couldn't see or hear him.

  I thought back to Autumn and wondered if my sister would make an appearance tonight. She said she would be on duty but hadn't elaborated. It was the same thing all week, claiming she had been slammed at the sheriff's department and hadn't been able to pull her fair share of mother duty, or so she said. At this point, I was about to call the sheriff and ask if Autumn's reports of mandatory overtime were in fact true. My sister loved rules, and while I normally wouldn't consider her a liar, if anything were to get her to fib, it would be having to spend time with Caroline. The woman drove me nuts, but it was nothing compared to the way those two got along. In my opinion, it was because they were so similar, a fact that Autumn would deny up and down. She just couldn't see it like the rest of us could.

  The doorbell rang, and Margaret came swiftly from the kitchen down the hallway to answer it. It was a movement she had done hundreds, if not thousands, of times as the housekeeper of London Manor, a position she happily took back up once I moved in, along with her daughter, grandson, and my dear friend Ellen. When I had officially invited everyone to move in, Margaret had decided that she would stay in her little bungalow downtown.

  "While I love my daughter and my grandbabies, I love my alone time too," she had said. I could understand that.

  Speaking of Margaret's daughter, Amelia appeared at the top of the stairs wearing a high-waisted, emerald-green dress with a beaded bodice. It accented her adorable baby bump and her blonde features perfectly. Her four-year-old son, Jacob, stood at her side and held his mother's hand.

  "Well, don't you look handsome there," I called up to him.

  "Mama says I don't have to wear the bowtie, but I want to." Jake played with the bowtie to show it off and rocked back and forth on his heels.

  The two descended the staircase, making a pretty picture, while Margaret opened the door to the first guest.

  "Father Thompson, come on in." Margaret held the door open for him and promptly took his coat. From the top of the stairs, I saw Ellen peek out from her bedroom door, blush, and then duck back inside. I wasn't sure what that was about, but you can bet I'd ask her about it later.

  "Margaret, you don't have to get the door all night and hang up everyone's coats. You're a guest here, too," I said to her softly as she answered the door once more, this time for a handful of Amelia's friends.

  Margaret waved me away. "Hush now, you're going to be plenty busy yourself. Now don't you worry about me. Just let me do my job." Margaret patted my hand kindly.

  "Savannah! Tina! I'm so happy guys came!" Amelia squealed, clutching the two girls in a one-armed hug. All three of them were dressed to the nines, their outfits full of glitter and glam with feathers, beads, and fur. Savannah’s and Tina’s lush locks were curled and pinned up, topped with silver, sparkling New Year's Eve crowns. They had a spare for Amelia, which she promptly handed to her son.

  "I'm a king!" Jacob proclaimed, placing the crown on his head and galloping off down the hall.

  The trio laughed at the little boy, and I found myself considering my wardrobe choice once more and thinking I should have gone for something a little more glamorous. Especially after taking in the girls’ impressively spiked high heels. They looked as if they were headed out to a New Year's Eve party in Chicago or New York City, not in a little Lake Michigan-side village.

  Over their shoulders, I spotted one guest that I hadn't planned on attending. Der
ek Appleton stood with a group of friends I knew all too well. Given that he was my sister's ex-fiancé, and her first and only real love, I knew his crew quite well, even though they were a few years older than me. When his best buddies Phil and Malcolm walked up to Amelia and her friends, it took me a second to piece the two groups together and realize the girls were their dates. Maybe it was a good thing Autumn was slammed at work.

  "Hey Claire, what's up?" Derek asked. He had a bit of a goofy grin on his face, and I would bet any amount of money that he had nipped more than a swig or two of fire whiskey. It had always been his favorite. Malcolm wore a similar expression.

  "Hi, guys. Long time, no see," I replied, thinking, in some regards, not long enough.

  "Hey, Claire. Thanks for hosting the party," Phil said. If any one of them could be described as the responsible one, it would be Phil. I saw that he had the car keys in his hand, and unlike Malcolm and Derek, there was no hint of drunkenness in him. I wondered which girl was his date? I also couldn't help but wonder how the two groups knew one another, since they were at least fifteen years apart in age.

  I didn't have time to dwell on it. At that moment, Emily, my caterer, was calling for my attention. I quickly excused myself from the new guest and ran over to join her.

  "Everything okay?" I asked. From the look on her face, things clearly weren't. Her expression was as lopsided as her asymmetrical haircut.

  "I just caught your cat licking the frosting off the red velvet cupcakes," she said with a wrinkle of her nose.

  Leave it to Milo to be sampling the desserts. My cat did have a sweet tooth.

  "I shooed him off the table and put the cupcakes back in the kitchen, but I have no idea where he ran off to." Emily pursed her painted red lips in agitation. I had a feeling she wouldn't normally allow a cat within ten feet of her kitchen.

  "Okay, no worries. I have a couple extra dozen still in the fridge, ready to go. Why don't you swap those out, and I'll hunt down Milo." My cat had been acting rather spastic all afternoon, as if he was just as nerved up as everyone else for the party.

  "Okay, I'll take care of it," Emily replied.

  I took a couple of minutes to try to round up Milo, but he was a clever one and I couldn’t find him anywhere. I could only hope that he'd stay out of Emily's way and the dining room for the rest of the night.

  The stream of guests through the door continued for a solid thirty minutes until every public space in London Manor was full of guests. I spotted Nick's blue orb floating around the room, stopping to listen to bits and pieces of conversation. I did much the same, walking from group to group, stopping to hear a story, accept a compliment, or even raise my own glass in cheers. I kept looking for Ellen, but I swore the woman was nowhere to be seen. My real mother, on the other hand, was everywhere at the same time, her laughter and singing filling the halls. I was about to approach her and take away her martini glass when Emily beckoned me once more.

  "What's up?" I asked, joining her in the kitchen.

  "What's up? Your stupid cat was on top of the dining room table again!" Emily shouted.

  "Excuse me?"

  "It was eating my honey ham in the center of the table and then he took off running again!" Emily was clearly in a tizzy. She needed to chill out.

  "Okay, calm down. I'll find him and lock him in my bedroom upstairs," I assured her. Personally, I didn't appreciate the way she was getting all worked up, but I left it at that, not wanting to get into it.

  "You better," Emily muttered under her breath.

  Of course, I couldn't find my troublemaker, but I did finally find Ellen. "Where have you been all night?"

  "Who, me?" she asked, looking over her shoulder.

  Ellen looked beautiful in a blue velvet dress. I had never seen her look so glamorous before. "Yes, you. You look amazing, by the way."

  Ellen blushed. "You don't think it's too much?"

  "Have you seen my mother? She could be a disco ball."

  That got a laugh out of Ellen.

  "Think everyone's having a good time?" I asked.

  "Everyone except the caterer."

  "I know, right? She seems to have a major attitude, and it's only gotten worse as the night's wears on."

  "Let's hope that Milo stays out of her way."

  But the cat, in fact, did not stay out of her way.

  The sound of glass shattering had me racing to the kitchen a couple of hours later. Ellen met me there. I rounded the corner in time to see Emily raising a broom to swat at Milo.

  “I’m going to kill you, cat!” she yelled as she brought the broom down. Luckily, she missed. "Get out of the kitchen!" She went to strike at him again, and I snatched the broom from her.

  "What are you doing?" I yelled at Emily.

  "That cat is a nightmare!" Emily shouted back. Her normally pale complexion was a deep shade of agitation.

  I looked around the kitchen. Broken champagne flutes littered the granite countertops, their golden contents dripping down onto the hardwood floor.

  "I don't care, you don't swat at him with the broom."

  "You're kidding me, right?" Emily replied. She looked to Ellen to back her up, but she wasn't getting any help there. Ellen was a cat lover too.

  "You know what? This just hasn't worked out tonight. Why don't you go ahead and gather your things, and Ellen and I can finish up here," I said calmly, even though I could feel my own anger rising up to match Emily's.

  Emily looked shocked. "You're firing me?"

  Was that what I was doing? I supposed so, but I didn't want to call it that.

  "Yes dear, you're fired. Now just scoot along, and we'll take care of this," Ellen replied.

  I nodded in confirmation.

  "All because of a stupid cat? You've got to be kidding me!" Emily whipped off her apron and gathered her bag. "You'll still have to pay the full balance," she said while thrusting her arms into her coat.

  Ellen opened her mouth to object, but I quickly said, "Not a problem." Personally I just wanted to get rid of the woman. I had agreed with my mother to hire a caterer, but next time, I'd be more active in the selection process, that was for sure. Emily had an attitude the moment the party started.

  "And I'm taking my crew with me. Clean-up is on you," Emily shot over her shoulder.

  "Obviously," Ellen replied, leaving off the dear this time.

  Emily scowled, but thankfully kept her mouth shut.

  Ellen and I got to work, washing down the countertops and cleaning up the mess on the floor. It would be midnight in less than thirty minutes, which was why Emily had been preparing the champagne toast when Milo had come in knocked half of it over. Thank heavens, Ellen and I were an efficient team and were able to right the mess in record time. Ellen walked around passing out champagne flutes with Amelia, who had offered to give us a hand. It was just like working at the bakery together, except we were passing out the bubbly instead of slinging coffee and croissants.

  "This is a rocking party," Amelia said to Ellen and me.

  "Yeah, I guess it is," I said.

  "We should do this all the time!" Amelia added.

  Uh, no. No, we shouldn't. I caught Ellen's eye and knew she agreed with me.

  "Oh, to be young again," she said when Amelia walked out of the kitchen, champagne glasses in tow.

  "And she's nearly six months pregnant. Gosh, we're lame," I told Ellen.

  "I like to think of it as being mature," Ellen replied as she followed Amelia out.

  I used the broom once more to go over the floor and make sure there weren't any shards of glass left. You know how it is when someone breaks a glass, and you think you get it all but then end up stepping on a piece two days later in another room. I'd definitely have to do a more thorough sweep in the morning.

  I was just putting the broom back in the utility closet when the kitchen's backdoor opened. I thought for a second it was Emily coming to give us an earful, but I was surprised to see it was my sister instead.

 
"Hey, Autumn. Come to ring in the New Year with us?"

  "I just thought I'd stop in and see how things are going." Autumn peered out the kitchen and into the dining room.

  "Grab a plate," I offered up.

  "No, I'm good." Autumn held up her travel coffee mug. That was one thing, if not the only thing, my sister and I had in common—a love of coffee.

  "How about a refill then?" I offered.

  "Now that I can agree to. Where's Mom?"

  "Last I heard she was singing White Christmas at the piano."

  "Oh, good gracious. That woman, I tell you."

  "Are you working through the night?" I asked. It wasn't unusual for my sister to work third shift.

  "That I am. The drunk driving task force is in full effect." She raised her eyebrows as she surveyed my guests.

  "Don't worry, I'll make sure everyone has a designated driver or arrange for one."

  Autumn handed her stainless-steel travel mug over to me. I quickly rinsed in the sink and then got to work getting her a refill. The gentle roll of laughter mixed with the sound of Christmas carols coming from the piano and children squealing as they ran circles around the connected rooms created quite a festive atmosphere. I looked at the clock; fifteen minutes to go.

  "What's he doing here?" Autumn didn't even bother to hide the anger in her voice. And I didn't need to look over my shoulder to know that she had spotted Derek.

  "He's dating one of Amelia's friends," I said while stirring two spoonfuls of sugar into her mug.

  "Amelia's friends? Aren't those girls only, like, what, twenty?"

  Being my older sister, Autumn was solidly in her thirties. Some might say late thirties. I wouldn't. Well, not to her face anyway.

  "Yeah, probably right around there," I said, trying to sound nonchalant.

  "He always was immature, the jerk." I simply nodded, but if I remembered it correctly, both Autumn and Derek had been pretty immature, which resulted in a rather disastrous public breakup. I'm talking the kind where the woman throws the man's belongings out into the yard while he stands there in his underwear, cursing her name. That sort of thing. Those two were fire and ice. I always thought it was a good thing the breakup went down before they were married.