Page 7 of Double

“Who told you that she was a pescatarian?” Gretchen questioned, eyeing the chef.

The chef gave her an easy shrug. “Mr. Gillespie, of course. He contacted me to give him a rundown of the menu. When he heard that there was no seafood on the menu for his pescatarian bride-to-be, he was not happy.”

Gretchen had the nerve to look sheepish.

“He amended the menu right away.”

I scoffed. The stranger who wanted my virginity and my inheritance was willing to play nicer than my own flesh and blood. Gretchen gave new meaning to the phrase: it be your own people.

A few moments later, a steaming platter of escovitch fish landed on the table. The red snapper was covered in a colorful array of peppers and onions. Seconds later, the fish was joined by a platter of bammy and a bowl of rice and peas. I gave the chef my first real smile of the night.

After dinner ended, Mr. Gillespie’s family—his two sisters, his mother, his two daughters, and a couple of his nieces—introduced a spirited game of Pictionary. Faylise, Lianna, and I opted out, as did Gretchen. They weren’t into the game very long before I noticed that their vivaciousness was waning, and they couldn’t seem to stop yawning.

“What’s going on with them?” Faylise asked me as we watched one of the nieces. She was supposed to be guessing whatever her aunt was acting out, but she was fast asleep.

“I don’t know,” I admitted.

“Melissa has the right idea,” one of the aunts commented. “I can barely keep my eyes open. I’m going to call it a night.”

Several of the Gillespies agreed with her and began to gather their belongings.

Faylise checked her watch. “Wow, it’s barely 10:00 p.m.”

Lianna shrugged. “Maybe they’ve had a long week. I heard they’ve been working to put together the wedding since the bride refused to help.”

She was right. I had refused to help put together a wedding that was killing me. If my fiancé was determined to steal my life, he was going to do so with no help from me.

The chef stepped into the room, her face still alight with a smile. “I’m gonna go now. I’ll contact Mr. Gillespie for the remaining balance of payment.”

“Wait a minute,” Gretchen said, and it seemed as if she were speaking in slow motion. “Who are you? Where did you come from?”

“What do you mean?” The chef asked like she was speaking to someone with a learning disability.

“Who the hell are you?” Gretchen drawled. “I know all about biological warfare. Did you poison us?”

I stiffened in my seat. Had the chef drugged the food? If so, how come I didn’t feel sleepy? Lianna and Faylise weren’t yawning or acting sleepy either. That was when it dawned on me that the three of us only ate the pescatarian food.

“Why is everybody so tired?” Gretchen continued. “Did you drug us?”

“Why would I do such a thing? Why would I drug you? I’m a professional. My resume is impeccable. I won’t stand here and be insulted.” As she turned to walk away, the chef shot me another wink.

Did anybody else see that? Did Gretchen see? I shot a quick glance at Lianna. She gave me the smallest of grins. What was going on?

Gretchen tried to point her finger at the chef, but she seemed to have a hard time lifting her arm. “I know you⁠—”

She was cut off by a loud commotion at the front door. My heart stuttered in my chest with fear until several people walked into the great room. I recognized Lianna’s sister, Lynne, and her husband, Chad Hill, right away. I didn’t recognize the three younger men who came behind them with their guns drawn, though.

Gretchen tried to point again as she slurred, “What the hell are you doing here, Lynne? What? You think you can swoop in and save the day? Well, you⁠—”

The young man who seemed to be the cockiest of the bunch addressed her, “Shut yo’ ass up before we handle you like we handled them niggas outside.”

At that, Gretchen’s low eyes went as wide as they could. The only man not holding a gun met the chef as she headed toward the door. He exchanged a few words and a smile with her before slipping what looked like a wad of cash into her hand.

The man was gorgeous. Actually, all three of the younger men were good-looking, but there was something about that particular one. It also could’ve been the suit. He was dressed immaculately in a beige pinstriped suit. Or it could’ve been his obvious confidence.

I took my attention off the man in the suit, and my eyes caught Lianna and Lynne engaged in an embrace.

Gretchen was still running her mouth as she fought against the effects of whatever drug the chef had mixed into the food. Though her words were becoming more and more slurred, she kept talking. She kept threatening to contact Sterling, but with the cocky one holding her at gunpoint, I didn’t know how she thought she could make that happen.