Terror in Taffeta Read Online Free PDF

you’d better hurry, because we’re going to need you to pack up Dana’s things, too.”
    â€œWe are ?”
    â€œWell, certainly! You don’t think I’m going to do it, do you? And surely you don’t want poor Nicole to have to do it. That leaves you, of course. It’s not as if Charles and I aren’t paying you enough.”
    I was starting to think that no amount of money was enough. Unfortunately, after six years of working out of my apartment in San Francisco, I had finally signed a lease on a sunny corner space in a renovated Victorian in Pacific Heights, and my increased financial responsibility meant that I could no longer afford to tell a client to stick it.
    â€œOf course, Mrs. Abernathy. Anything else?”
    â€œThat is all. Oh, actually—could you be a dear and get me a refill on this coffee?”
    *   *   *
    Back in my room, I found Brody leaning over my vanity, spreading minty-green goo onto his face. “I see you found out my beauty secret,” I said.
    â€œOh, hey, this stuff is supposed to reduce pores, right? How fun! It tingles!”
    â€œBrody, that woman…”
    â€œLet me guess: Mrs. A?”
    â€œWho else? She didn’t tell Nicole. She left it for me to handle. And now I have to go pack up Dana’s belongings, as if I didn’t have ten thousand things to do before we leave.”
    Brody peered into the mirror, trying to spread the facial masque evenly over his one-day scruff. “You can put me to work.”
    â€œReally?” With his help, I might actually be ready to leave on time. “Oh, Brody, you’re a lifesaver.”
    â€œI know. Hey, look,” he said, fishing a cucumber from his glass of cucumber-lemon water and putting it over one eye. “I look like a pirate—at a spa!”
    Yet another reason to love the man. He was always able to make me laugh.
    I looked around the room. Not only did I have my personal belongings to pack, but my room had become the unofficial warehouse of all wedding-related items. I grabbed a tape gun and a box and handed both to Brody. “Okay, let’s get my room packed first, then we’ll go pack Dana’s.”
    â€œAye, aye, Captain. Hey, did you call your new boyfriend?”
    â€œWho, Evan? He’s not my new boyfriend. He’s an old … friend.”
    â€œWhatever, Miss Picky. Did you call him? He seemed pretty into you.” A private pilot, Evan had flown me and Brody to San Miguel from Mexico City, saving us from the bus, and Brody had instantly picked up on our history—especially after Evan asked me to go to dinner with him while I was in town.
    â€œNope, never had time,” I replied, folding up some pants and tucking them neatly into my suitcase.
    â€œWhat? Why not?” Brody sounded disappointed. He wanted me to find a great guy to settle down with as much as he wanted to find one himself.
    â€œC’mon, Brody, Evan and I would never work. For one thing, he lives in another country.”
    Evan and I had gone out a few years earlier, back when he lived in San Francisco. But after just a few dates, he’d announced that he’d quit his job as an airline pilot to pursue his dream of moving to Mexico, and our burgeoning romance had been cut short. We’d stayed in touch, and I’d even added him to my resources file. Knowing someone with his own plane came in handy when I had guests who needed shuttling around Mexico.
    â€œKelsey, has it ever occurred to you that that attitude is why it’s ‘always the wedding planner, never the bride’?”
    I picked up a box and scowled. “Less talking, more packing!”
    â€œJeez, excuse me for caring about your personal life.”
    â€œI’m sorry, but it’s just hard to take you seriously with that green stuff on your face. Now go rinse off and let’s get out of here!”
    He retreated into the bathroom, then