Sparkle Abbey - Get Fluffy

At the moment, Caro and I weren’t exactly speaking. Since our childhood, Caro had always saved something or someone. A few years ago that had included her ex-husband who deserved to rot behind prison walls instead.

To this day, she continued to analyze how her marriage had fallen apart. I’d expressed my opinion (truth be told, it was unsolicited at the time, but that hadn’t stopped me), and Caro got her feelings hurt. We had words .

I know I’m the one who should apologize first but, knowing me, my smartass mouth would probably make matters worse. Sometimes I’m better with dogs than people.

Recently, I’d broken my vow of silence. Caro’s best friend, Diana Knight, a former movie star and one of Laguna’s resident celebrities, had been arrested for murder. In my experience, who better to deliver bad news than family?

Luckily for Diana, she was one of Caro’s success stories. Caro had helped clear Diana of a bogus murder wrap and in the process had almost gotten herself killed. Thankfully, the police-and her quick thinking-had saved her.

A slow smile tugged the corners of my mouth as I waited for my cousin to turn in my direction.

Competition runs deep in the Montgomery blood, our mothers’ side of the family tree. Over the years, Caro had managed to intermittently suppress her competitiveness. I, on the other hand, let mine run free. Electrified with the sudden possibility of getting the best of my cousin, I grabbed Grey’s arm. “Let’s go say hi to Caro.”

“No.” He didn’t even take his eye off the list of silent auction items.

“Come on. You just said she did a great job.”

“I’m not going to be a vehicle for you to flaunt that thing.” He flicked his auction list toward the gaudy, but sentimental, brooch pinned strategically to my gown.

The pin was a family heirloom, a twenty-two karat gold basket filled with fruit made of precious gems. Rubies, diamonds, emeralds and topaz. You’d never know by looking at the garish thing that it was insured for more money than all four years of my Stanford college tuition.

I adjusted the brooch. “It gives my little black dress something extra.”

Grey’s green eyes softened. His gaze traveled from the bottom of my floor length, strapless, leather gown and ended at the gaudy heirloom.

I felt the heat flood my checks and pretended his blatant appraisal didn’t make my knees weak.

“ Little is one description. Leave your cousin alone,” he said on a sigh.

Poor Grey. He was my fiancé, but he was also Caro’s friend.

“Grandma Tillie left the pin to me. I only retrieved what was rightfully mine.” Grandma was very specific in her will. The brooch was to go to her “ favorite granddaughter.” That was me. Then again, Caro was just as convinced it was her.

“You broke into Caro’s house and stole it,” he said.

“Only after she’d marched into Bow Wow Boutique, in the middle of the day, and stole it from my purse in front of God and my customers.”

He looked at me as if I’d lost my mind. “So that makes breaking into her private safe okay?”

I grimaced. There was a tingle of regret about my actions that day. It had taken a few tries to figure out the combination, but I had.

Caro hadn’t used an easy-to-hack combination. No. She’d used something much more personal that only I could truly understand the significance of.

When I thought about that, I felt like a traitor who deserved to be shot at twenty paces. So, I tried not to think about it.

I was sure I’d pay for my transgression at some point.

“Mel, do you want the brooch, or to make Carolina squirm?” Grey asked.

“Is there a right or wrong answer?”

“Yes.”

I took another sip of wine, letting the warmth from the alcohol seep through me. I know it’s selfish, but I wanted both. Hey, at least I’m honest.

Caro finally turned and caught my eye. I held back the urge to jump up and down. Instead, I lifted my wine glass in salute, making sure she could see I had on the brooch.

She hesitated for a second, aware we were gossip prey. Like the southern lady she was, she returned the salute with an amused smile. We both knew she was plotting revenge. Game on, cousin. I’d have to find a better hiding place than my cookie jar.

Grey shook his head in defeat and directed my attention to the banquet tables of donated items for the silent auction. There was one item that had me seriously contemplating going home for my credit card. An African safari. I sighed, knowing I was about to spend too much money, and I wasn’t even buzzed.

“You’re doing the right thing,” Grey said.

“I’ve always wanted to go on an African safari.”

“I was talking about Caro.”

“I do have some self-control.” I set my glass on the table and adjusted his bow tie. Not because it needed it. But because it was our first public appearance since the almost-wedding.

“I just wanted her to see I had it,” I explained.

“I don’t always understand you two. Or why your friends encourage your harebrained competition.”

I retrieved my glass with a shrug. “Because it’s harmless fun.”

I scribbled an obscene dollar amount alongside my bidding number on the safari listing, knowing I’d bumped the mayor out of the playing field.

Grey whistled softly. “Playing to win?”

“Why else would I play?”

“If I could have your attention,” Amelia Hudges, the ARL director, spoke into the microphone.

Everyone turned expectantly in Amelia’s direction. I almost choked on my wine. Amelia looked like an over-the-top Bette Midler with her frizzed-out orange hair and heavily beaded gown. Good God . Had someone died and covered the mirrors in her house?

“We’ve made some quick calculations after a few passes around the room.” She paced the stage in excitement. “Due to your generosity, the silent auction has already grossed an estimated two hundred fifty thousand dollars.” Amelia’s high-pitched twitter competed with resounding applause and excited barking.

“Now it’s time to get serious.” She raised a freckled hand for silence. “We’re more than halfway to our goal of three hundred fifty thousand dollars. Listen to your heart, not your accountant. Open your wallets, and let’s start the live auction! Find your seats, everyone.”

Grey, Missy and I ping-ponged through the noisy crowd and were the last of our group to arrive. We were about to sit when Tova Randall, a highly successful lingerie model who had just moved to town, called out my name.

Everyone at our table watched as Tova bounced closer. It wasn’t her perfect pale complexion or her luxurious auburn hair that drew our attention. It was her blush-pink, silk-taffeta gown hugging her famous curves. Those same curves had paid for her thirteen million dollar home in the hills, down the street from Grey’s place.

“Melinda Langston, you owe me fifteen hundred dollars,” she announced in a not-so-conversational tone.

“I beg your pardon?”

She was drunk. It was the only plausible explanation. I looked at our tablemates and shook my head apologetically.

Unlike Tova, her Yorkiepoo loved me. And I loved Kiki in return. Her pink, mini-taffeta dress rustled as her tiny five-pound body wiggled in excitement. I reached down to pet the adorable dog. Kiki immediately rewarded me with enthusiastic kisses.

Missy sniffed Tova’s pocket puppy in the universal dog greeting. Unimpressed, Missy crawled under the table, looking for a spot to nap.

Tova gripped the diamond encrusted leash tighter, pulling Kiki closer to her. “You gave my baby fleas,” she huffed.

Hells bells. What was she talking about?