To Have and to Heist(52)

“These are my bridesmaids.” She introduced them so quickly, I didn’t catch their names. Except for their clothing in varying shades of expensive, they looked almost identical, with long brown hair, brown eyes, and twiglike arms.

I reciprocated by introducing everyone again: Jack: flowers; Chloe: security; Anil: entertainment; Emma: transport; Cristian . . . AWOL.

Where was Cristian?

“What does he do?” One of the women pointed at Gage, who had found a nice shadowy corner in which to hide.

What was he going to do? I’d been so wrapped up in thoughts of Jack, I hadn’t come up with a job for Gage.

“He used to be a priest,” Anil blurted out.

The women all gasped at once. One of the bridesmaids handed the other a twenty-dollar bill. I wished I’d been part of that action.

“We can get him recertified or whatever has to happen to get his priest qualifications back if you don’t have someone lined up for the ceremony.” I ignored Gage’s glare and vigorous headshaking. “I’m sure it can all be done online,” I continued. “It’s not like we’re back in the Middle Ages, where the Pope had to get involved with every little administrative detail.”

“We’re getting married by the priest who married my parents,” Bella said. “My parents got special permission from the Archdiocese to hold the wedding in our back garden instead of in church. I doubt my father would agree to a new officiant this close to the ceremony.”

“No problem,” I said, thinking quickly. “Gage is great with kids. He can handle the children’s activity area and give the elephant rides.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Gage muttered, making no effort to lower his voice.

“Is he single?” one of the bridesmaids asked.

“Do you want him to be?” I’d pimp anyone out to make this gig a success.

“Fuck yes.”

I liked her instantly, because anyone who could swear while wearing a pair of $4,000 Christian Louboutin heels was my kind of woman.

“Unfortunately, we have a strict nonfraternization policy. We want everyone to feel safe and respected while we handle the event. However, after the wedding is over, he’s fair game.”

“Does that mean you really are going to get the elephant?” Bella asked.

“Yes.” I’d already been in touch with Annika Auntie, who had put me in touch with another auntie, who knew an uncle who knew the father of the groom who had ordered the elephant for his son’s baraat.

I caught a curious silent exchange between Bella and her dirty-mouthed bridesmaid. More dismay than excitement. I was getting a strange vibe from the bride. Not so much bridezilla but something else.

“Have you changed your mind about the elephant? Was there another animal you wanted? A tiger, perhaps? Panther? Or are you not into jungle cats? My cousin has a monkey and a boa constrictor, but they can’t be in the same room together. The monkey is a terrible tease.”

“The elephant is fine.” She sucked in her lips. “I just never imagined anyone could do it.”

Bella and her mother took us for a quick walk around the grounds to finalize the locations for the ceremony and the tent. I couldn’t imagine owning so much land. What would you do with it? Aside from the tennis court, swimming pool, running track, and riding trail, was there really any reason to have so much grass, you had to hire someone whose sole job was to keep it trimmed in summer?

“You can get a good view of the house from here,” Bella said, turning around when we reached the summit of a small hill. “Family bedrooms are on the top level left, along with another sitting room, meditation room, and a reading room. Guest bedrooms are on the right. My dad’s office, the library, and the conservatory are on the ground floor in the south wing. Kitchen and various sitting rooms all on the right. We’ve also got a finished basement with another sitting room, home theater, yoga studio, games room, gym, wet bar . . . you know . . . all the stuff.”

“Sure.” I nodded like I knew “all the stuff” rich people had in their multiwing mansions. God forbid they only had one sitting room or no dedicated space to do a Downward Dog.

I excused myself from the pool/boathouse part of the tour to look for Cristian. I found him in the van, hiding between the seats. He’d stripped off his jacket and had his head down between his knees.

“What’s going on? Are you okay?”

“Her mom . . .” He shook his head. “I ran out of the house the second I saw her. I just hope . . .” He groaned, dug his hands through his hair. “You’ll have to replace me.”

“I don’t understand,” I said. “Do you know her?”

“She was a client.” His voice was raw, hoarse. “She told me her name was Sophia Jones.”

“A client of your life coaching business? That’s not . . .” I trailed off when he shook his head. “Ah. That kind of client.”

“I slept with her.” His voice rose in pitch. “Can you imagine what her husband would do to me if he found out? They destroyed that drone. There was nothing left but little pieces.”

“We’re not going to replace you,” I said. “You’re part of the team and the team sticks together.”

“I could get you all killed,” he moaned. “I don’t want to put you in danger. You’re the first real friends I’ve ever had.”