Page 95 of Say Yes to the Death

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

To Do:

- Practice acceptance speech

- T&E blog post

- Update cost spreadsheet for Aaron

It was go time. Claire stepped out of her black convertible and let the car door shut with a snap. The beads on her clutch glittered under the streetlight. She tugged at the hem of her emerald-green cocktail dress and smoothed her hands over the bodice. All she could see was the wrinkle she couldn’t get out with the steamer. At least it would be behind the podium when she accepted her award.

A diamond tennis bracelet, a gift from her mother, covered a mark on her wrist from her homemade restraint system. She really needed to come up with a better sleepwalking prevention solution. Her scarves weren’t going to take much more of this.

Her black pumps nearly snagged the hem of her dress as she stepped onto the sidewalk. She recovered and hustled up the steps to the entrance.

“Claire! Over here.” Hurried footsteps rushed across the parking lot toward her. What fresh hell?

A blinding light suddenly turned on. The vague shape of a woman appeared in front of her. “Diane Lang, Channel Four News. Claire, what is it like to be the only living victim of the West Haven Widowmaker?”

Claire turned around and marched straight for the doors. She thrust them open and disappeared inside without a backward glance. The foyer of the community center was empty. She started to walk through to the ballroom but stopped.

On this exact night one year ago, she had entered the building as a blossoming event planner with a fiancé and a plan for her life, and she had left it heartbroken but more determined than ever to succeed. Tonight, Wendy would pay for what she did. Wendy had taken her fiancé, tampered with Nicole’s picture-perfect proposal, and threatened Claire with a lawsuit. But she wasn’t going to take anything else. All she needed was a little deep breathing and she was going to kick this award ceremony’s ass.

Her heels clacked as she walked down the hallway on the left. She passed the men’s bathroom where Wendy had lured Jason into a stall and shook her head. If Wendy hadn’t done that, she could be married right now. In a way, Wendy had saved her. For someone who was supposed to be a romance expert, Claire hadn’t seen the lack of compatibility in her relationship until it blew up with a (quite literal) bang.

An open doorway revealed an empty classroom. She ducked inside and closed her eyes, planting her feet firmly just wider than hip-width. Her fists planted on her hips, she elevated her chin as though she were balancing a wineglass on her head. She breathed deeply in through her nose and out through her mouth.

“Whatcha doing?” A very long, shadowy torso leaned into the room.

Claire screamed and grabbed the nearest object—a whiteboard eraser—and flung it at the intruder. She put her fists up in a fighting stance. If the press had followed her in here, she was going to punch a bitch. Lawsuit be damned. She took a step forward and her heel caught on a snag in the rug, pitching her forward.

A muscular arm reached forward and grabbed her. Ah, shit.

“Sawyer,” she said, gripping his arm as he steadied her. “Well, that was embarrassing. You caught me doing my power stance.”

“Your power stance.” He raised his eyebrows.

“Yes, it’s supposed to help you feel more confident. Fake it till you make it, that kind of thing. I saw it on a TED talk.”

“Is it working?”

“It was until I nearly fell on my ass.”

He smiled and offered his arm. “This might be safer.”

“Thank you,” she said, grateful for Sawyer’s large, comforting presence.

“Press try to get you on the way in? I saw the anchor from Channel Four News moping around the parking lot.”

She nodded. “Just one this time. I think they’re finally getting bored.”

He guided her into the hallway and through the ballroom doors. Dozens of round tables covered in white linen tablecloths littered the room. A gleaming row of awards sat on a table onstage. Had she dusted her award shelf this morning?

“You look nice,” she said as they found their table. Sawyer had shed his usual company polo for a well-tailored black suit. He positioned himself with his back to the wall and tugged at his collar.

“Thanks. You look nice too. I hope you have your speech ready? No offense to the other candidate, but your proposals are clearly better.”

She smiled. “Thank you. I think so too.” She leaned closer to Sawyer and lowered her voice. “It’s never been proven by the police, but I know Wendy tampered with Nicole’s proposal. She’s the reason the carriage wheel broke. She almost ruined everything.”

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