Dragonwell Dead

24

“This is a disaster,” muttered Haley as she elbowed her way through the crowd, trying to keep her truffle trays level.

Theodosia, who’d already staked out their meager position on the Heritage Society’s patio, had to agree. “Just ferry everything to the table first,” she advised. “Then we’ll figure out the logistics of setting up.”

“The table?” asked Drayton, in a thunderous tone. “We’re talking singular?”

“Afraid so,” said Theodosia, pushing a puff of auburn hair back over her shoulder. Her hair looked lovely, her makeup was soft and glowing, her outfit was very boho chic. But the evening was starting off on a precarious note. “The Orchid Society set up four more tables than planned,” she told Drayton, “so we’ve all got to do a little scrunching.”

“Typical,” said Drayton with a sniff.

“So where’s Parker going to have his drink table?” asked Haley.

“Right over there,” said Theodosia, indicating an empty table. “Just down from us.”

“Where does that leave me with my ice angels ?” asked Drayton.

“Right here,” said Theodosia.

“No way can we arrange everything on one table,” fretted Drayton. “Tea, tea sandwiches, truffles, and my ice angels. What silly idiot gave our other table away, anyhow?”

“Yoo-hoo, Drayton, Theodosia!” called Delaine Dish as she scuttled across the patio, looking fetching in a diaphanous pink cocktail dress. “Can you people slide your table down just a smidge? I told Mr. Roumillat that his orchid people could have a tad more room.”

“Three guesses who gave our other table away,” muttered Haley. “And the first two don’t count.”

Drayton spun on his heels to face Delaine, launching into a rebuttal speech as if it were a college debate. “My dear Miss Dish, we’re not about to slide this table one single millimeter in longitude or latitude. In fact we shall not be deterred in any way from serving an array of splendid, first-class refreshments.

Drayton’s words slowed Delaine down for a few scant seconds. Then she leaned in close and fixed everyone with a peculiar bright-eyed gaze. “Did you hear about Fayne Hamilton?” she asked. “She’s been arrested.” Taking a deep breath she went on. “Arrested! Can you believe it?” Delaine looked almost delirious at the news. “It goes to show you just never know what lurks in people’s hearts and minds.”

“You never do,” agreed Theodosia, hoping the news of Fayne’s arrest wouldn’t dominate the event tonight. “And I believe the correct terminology is taken into custody,” corrected Theodosia. “Versus being arrested.”

“There’s a difference?” asked Delaine.

“It’s slight, but there is a difference,” replied Theodosia.

“As you might guess, Bobby Wayne is beside himself,” confided Delaine. She clearly did not want to drop the subject. “He’s hoping Loveday and Luxor can keep a tight lid on this. That there isn’t too much fallout.”

“My hope is that Angie’s name is promptly cleared,” said Theodosia.

“Oh, that, too, honey,” agreed Delaine. “It’s just that an investment firm doesn’t want to be connected to any sort of scandal.”

“Is Bobby Wayne here tonight?” asked Drayton. He was growing a little bored with Delaine’s fixation on Fayne Hamilton.

“On his way,” said Delaine. “He’s obviously a little spooked by that Fayne character.” She gave a little shiver, then glanced around. “I sure do wish we could slide these tables closer.”

“I don’t see how,” said Theodosia. Tables were already jammed together everywhere, orchid club members were elbowing each other for display space, and early arriving guests were standing around, watching the chaos.

“We’re not sardines,” muttered Drayton.

“We just need to make things fit,” insisted Delaine. “The guests that are coming tonight have extremely high expectations. We’re talking about society people. The upper crust.”

“You know what the upper crust really is?” laughed Drayton. “A lot of crumbs held together by dough.”

“Love it,” chortled Haley. She elbowed Theodosia. “Isn’t Drayton a card.”

“He’s a hoot,” agreed Theodosia as she began arranging tiny lobster salad sandwiches on a footed glass dish.

But Delaine was not one bit amused. “You people,” she said, her long pink earrings swaying as she spoke, “could show a little more respect for our donors!”

“Good heavens,” exclaimed Drayton, as Charlie struggled toward their table, hauling an aluminum cooler. “You should have waited and let me help with that. Besides getting my orchid out of Theo’s Jeep, I was planning on making a couple more trips.”

“No big deal,” said Charlie. “I’m just happy to be here.”

“We’re delighted to have you,” said Theodosia. She was thrilled that Drayton now seemed to view Charlie as a real asset to their team. “And you look so cute, too.” Haley had taken Charlie across the alley and outfitted her in a black silk T-shirt, long gauzy skirt, and cute tie belt.

“Thanks to my stylist here,” laughed Charlie. While she wasn’t wearing formal attire, she certainly looked dressy enough.

“You know the program?” Haley asked her. “Drayton explained it to you on the way over?”

“Pretty much,” said Charlie. “He wants me to be in charge of ice angels tonight.”

“Making them or serving them?” asked Haley.

“Both, I think,” responded Charlie.

“So what flavor of gelato did he finally settle on?” asked Haley, kicking the cooler with her toe. “And what kind of tea?”

“You two are talking about me like I’m not here,” said Drayton.

“Get over it,” quipped Haley.

“It’s a really good combo,” said Charlie. “Lemon gelato topped with jasmine tea. The exact recipe being two small scoops of gelato and about a quarter cup of tea.”

Haley dug around under the table. “You’re using these little clear plastic glasses?” she asked, pulling out a package.

Drayton made a face. “It just isn’t possible to use nice glassware.”

“Then what about spoons?” asked Haley, always a stickler for order and planning.

“We’re not using spoons,” said Drayton. “Charlie’s just going to pop colored straws into the glasses so people can walk around sipping them.”

“Kind of like snow cones,” said Haley. “Outdoorsy and fun.”

“Well, not exactly,” said Drayton. “Our ice angels are far more elegant.”

Just when Theodosia was about to give up hope, Parker Scully finally showed up. He struggled in, muscling a large cardboard box that clanked noisily.

“What have you got in there?” Haley asked him.

Parker dropped the box on his table with a thud, then proceeded to pull out liquor bottles and arrange them on his table. “Rum, curaçao, and grenadine,” he told her.

“I thought grenadine was a soldier,” said Haley.

“You’re thinking of a grenadier,” laughed Parker. “Grenadine is a liqueur.”

“Don’t you think it’s strange that your first name is the same as my last name?” asked Haley.

“Parker was my mother’s maiden name.”

“Whoa. Maybe we’re related.”

Parker gazed at her deadpan. “Heaven help me.”

“Do you need help?” Theodosia asked him.

“Already got some,” said Parker. “I ran into your assistant in the parking lot. She’s giving me a hand.”

The words weren’t out of Parker’s mouth when Charlie showed up hefting another cardboard box.

“Now whatcha got?” asked Haley.

“Glasses, swizzle sticks, stuff like that,” said Parker, taking the box from Charlie.

“You need ice?” asked Haley.

“On its way,” said Parker. “I made arrangements with the same vendor that delivers ice to my restaurant.”

“Why didn’t we think of that?” said Haley.

“Good question,” replied Theodosia. “Hey, where did Drayton dash off to?”

“He’s registering his orchid,” said Charlie. “See?” She pointed across the patio to a small registration table where Drayton was bent over, scribbling away.

“This oughta be good,” smiled Haley. “Suffice it to say, Drayton’s entry is a bit nontraditional.”

Twenty minutes later a string quartet struck their first notes and Orchid Lights was officially under way. White twinkle lights glowed in the palmetto trees, flickering candles floated in the reflecting pool, and guests in elegant evening attire strolled from table to orchid-laden table, admiring the gorgeous plants on view. Overhead, the Charleston sky was a piece of dark blue denim embedded with stars.

“Everything looks so gorgeous and romantic,” commented Haley, pulling her butter-yellow pashmina closer around her shoulders.

“Perfect,” murmured Theodosia. What had seemed destined for disaster thirty minutes earlier had suddenly morphed into absolute elegance. Cream-colored tapers in a brass candelabra lit their tea table. Serving trays filled with lobster salad, cucumber cream cheese, and chicken chutney tea sandwiches looked most enticing. Haley’s three-tiered truffle trays were now strewn with edible flowers. To save space, they’d moved Charlie and the ice angel setup over to Parker Scully’s table. That way guests could have their choice of either the alcoholic Black Orchid cocktail or Drayton’s non-alcoholic but still delicious tea and gelato mixture.

Haley nudged Theodosia. “Here comes Drayton. Bet he shook things up with that bell jar and moss arrangement.”

Drayton’s heels hit the flagstones like castanets as he approached.

“You’re not going to believe this,” he began, eyes rolling upward.

“What now?” asked Haley.

“Harlan Noble is protesting my entry.”

“Because . . . why?” asked Theodosia.

“He says it’s completely nontraditional.”

“Hey, that’s what I just said,” said Haley, happily.

“But your entry is still an orchid,” reasoned Theodosia. “Completely within the boundaries. And this is an amateur orchid show at the Heritage Society. Good heavens, it’s not as though you broke convention with an American Orchid Society–sanctioned show or some sort of international orchid event.”

Drayton grabbed Theodosia by the hand and pulled her along. “Then kindly come and tell that to the people at the registration table!”