Sweat Tea Revenge (19 page)

21

With lunch well
under way, Theodosia and Haley were buzzing about the menu for tonight’s Summer Garden Tour.

“What I was thinking about,” said Haley, “was an assortment that included lemon bars, almond espresso cookies, and some sort of cake.”

“That’s more than I thought we’d serve,” said Theodosia. “I was thinking just along the line of tea and cookies.”

“But on last year’s tour, the folks at the Wilmington House served biscotti and double fudge brownies,” said Haley.

“And I’m guessing you want to outdo them?”

Haley gave a toss of her head and a snarky smile.

“It really isn’t necessary,” said Theodosia. “Especially since we’re putting this together at the last minute.”

“Come on,” Haley wheedled. “Just let me do what I do best.” She poked her blond hair behind her ears and said, “Turn me loose.”

“Okay,” Theodosia agreed. “But please don’t kill yourself over this. Because there’s a chance it’ll all whoosh right over Delaine’s head. These days, she’s not exactly big on doling out compliments or thank-yous.”

“Whatever,” said Haley.

“So what have you got in mind for the cakes?” asked Theodosia. “You mean like mocha cakes?” Haley whipped up the best mocha cakes she’d ever tasted. Tasty little morsels with vanilla frosting and rolled in chopped walnuts.

“Mmm, not those exactly,” said Haley. “But something like them.”

“You’re being evasive,” said Theodosia.

“Probably because I’d like to keep it a surprise,” said Haley.

“Okay,” said Theodosia. “You win.”

*   *   *

Lunch came and
went. And by midafternoon Theodosia had popped into the kitchen again to see how Haley was doing.

“Don’t look, don’t look!” cried Haley.

“Okay,” said Theodosia. “Sorry.

Then Drayton suddenly appeared in the doorway. “How are we set for scones?” he asked.

“We’ve got a couple left,” said Haley.

He hooked a thumb in the direction of the tea room. “Delaine’s sister, Nadine, showed up a few minutes ago.” He lowered his voice. “Accompanied by a gentleman.”

“Really?” Theodosia and Haley said in unison.

“No one I’ve ever seen before,” said Drayton, still in a slightly hushed tone.

“Must be a new boyfriend,” said Haley.

“I didn’t even know she was dating anyone,” said Theodosia. “I mean, did she bring someone to the wedding?”

“No idea,” said Drayton.

“I suppose she could have had a date stashed somewhere,” said Haley. “Because I remember she showed up late and seemed awfully discombobulated.”

“Maybe she’ll be the sister who gets married first after all,” said Drayton.

“I just hope she has better luck than Delaine,” said Haley.

“Shhh,” warned Drayton. He held a finger to his lips. “Keep your voices down!”

“Well, I’m going to go out and say hello,” said Theodosia. “Haley, put two of those oat scones on a plate along with a couple of slices of banana bread. Nadine will like that. She has a real sweet tooth.”

Nadine was giggling and simpering when Theodosia brought the desserts to her table, hanging on the arm of a man who was sitting so close their shoulders touched. He was good looking, with ginger-colored hair, bright brown eyes, a square chin, and high cheekbones.

“Theo-
do
-sia!” Nadine squealed when she saw her. “How lovely to see you!”

“Hello, Nadine,” said Theodosia. “We’ve been crazy busy all day, but I managed to find some scones and banana bread to go along with your afternoon tea.” She didn’t want to point out that it was thirty minutes to closing on a Friday afternoon.

“Your hospitality is greatly appreciated,” said Nadine. She grinned and giggled at her gentleman friend but still didn’t bother to introduce him.

Theodosia picked up their teapot and carefully refilled their cups. Then she set the teapot on a tea warmer. “Well, enjoy.”

“Thank you,” said Nadine.

Theodosia hesitated. “Have you by any chance talked to your sister today?” She wondered how Delaine had reacted to the call from Tidwell about last night’s break-in.

Nadine didn’t bother to look up. “Not really,” she said, biting into her scone.

“Who’s the fellow?” Drayton whispered, when Theodosia came back to the front counter.

“No idea,” said Theodosia. “She never introduced us.”

“That’s rude,” said Drayton.

“That’s Nadine,” said Theodosia. “Always playing weird little mind games. Listen, I’m going back to my office to call Delaine. Try to get any news I can direct from the horse’s mouth.”

“Or some other choice part of the anatomy,” Drayton mumbled.

“Drayton!” said Theodosia. But she smiled as she said it.

*   *   *

Theodosia kicked a
carton of straw hats out of her way and slid into her desk chair. She called Delaine’s cell and had her on the line within seconds.

“I take it Detective Tidwell got hold of you this morning?” said Theodosia. She felt bad that she’d been so busy she hadn’t been able to call Delaine sooner.

“Yes, he did,” said Delaine.

“And he told you all about the break-in?”

“Such unsettling news,” cooed Delaine. “As if I needed one more thing to worry about.”

“Same here,” said Theodosia. “It caused a bit of a stir for me, too, you know.”

“Sorry about that,” said Delaine.

“So what’s the story on getting Granville’s place straightened up for tonight? Tidwell seemed to imply there was a bit of a mess. He said several drawers had been overturned and some cupboards were ransacked?”

“It’s all taken care of,” said Delaine. “I’m at the house now and everything looks perfect.”

“What about the deliveries?” Theodosia asked. “I hope those weren’t derailed. The tables and chairs for the patio? The velvet ropes and stanchions?”

“Everything’s being brought in right now,” said Delaine. “So the only piece of the puzzle I have to worry about is
you
.”

“Are you serious?” said Theodosia. “Excuse me, but Haley and I have the tea and treats completely under control. They’ll be served exactly as promised.”

“I must say that’s a huge weight off my mind,” said Delaine.

“Delaine,” said Theodosia, feeling slightly miffed. “It shouldn’t be an issue at all. You know I wouldn’t drop the ball.”

“Unlike my sister,” Delaine sighed. “Big help she is.”

“Nadine’s here right now,” said Theodosia. “She showed up maybe fifteen minutes ago. With a guest. A nice-looking man.”

“Bully for her,” said Delaine.

“What?” said Theodosia. “You don’t approve of this fellow she’s dating?”

“Even if I did,” said Delaine, “Nadine wouldn’t care two shakes. She pays no attention to anything I say. Besides, she’s old enough to make her own mistakes.”

Whatever that means
, Theodosia thought to herself. “One more thing, Delaine. Did you set up a meeting with Allan Grumley like we discussed?”

“Oh, that. Yes. On your advice I retained my own attorney, and we’re scheduled to meet at Grumley’s office tomorrow morning.”

“Good,” said Theodosia. “Maybe now you can get all this will and insurance business straightened out.”
And I don’t have to get caught in the middle.

“Theo,” Delaine said in a singsong voice. “What are you wearing tonight?”

“Um, a T-shirt, slacks, and my long Parisian waiter’s apron?”

“No,” said Delaine.

Theodosia winced. Her wardrobe, curated for comfort, was always a bone of contention between them.

“You have to look
upscale
tonight,” said Delaine. “So I want you to stop by Cotton Duck and pick something up.”

“Delaine,” said Theodosia. “I’m a little short on time. I have to prep and pack all the food, in case you forgot.”

“There’s always time for a proper wardrobe,” Delaine said smoothly. “So what I’ll do is call Janine at the shop and have her pull some summer silks for you.”

“Well . . . maybe,” said Theodosia.

“I promise, you’re going to adore them!”

Doubtful.

Delaine heard the silence spin out and said, “Theo, don’t you trust my fashion sense?” Now she sounded hurt.

“Sure, Delaine, whatever you think will work.” Theodosia hung up the phone, bent forward, and dropped her head against her desk.
Clunk.

“It can’t be
that
bad, can it?” said Drayton. He was standing in the doorway, looking concerned.

“Delaine is driving me crazy,” said Theodosia.

“Of course, she is,” said Drayton.

“First she was paralyzed about going to a meeting at Granville and Grumley to talk about the insurance policy and the will. Now she’s changed her tune and hired an attorney to oversee everything.”

“And what else?” Drayton dropped into the chair across from her desk.

“She acts like I’m scheming to purposely let her down tonight. With the food and tea, I mean.”

“Which you never would,” said Drayton. “So why are you letting all this get under your skin?”

“I don’t know,” said Theodosia. “I shouldn’t. I know in my heart that Delaine is just . . . I don’t know, still in shock.”

“Grief can often bring out the worst in people. They can act horrid even when they don’t mean to be.”

Theodosia put her hands flat on her desk and stared at Drayton. “You’re right. I should just blow it off, huh?”

“That would be my sage advice.”

“Are you coming tonight?” Theodosia asked.

“I thought I might drop by, yes. Take a gander at the Marisoll Hall gardens down the street, then ankle down to Granville’s place.” He raised his eyebrows. “Or is it Delaine’s place now?”

“Who knows?” said Theodosia. “Everything’s still up in the air.”

*   *   *

Luck was with
Theodosia and she managed to find a parking space just two doors down from Cotton Duck. She jumped from her car, raced down the street, and, outside the shop, ran smack-dab into Jack Alston.

“You shop here,” he said, by way of a greeting.

“So what?” she said, wondering why he always adopted such a confrontational attitude.

He gestured toward Cotton Duck. “I find your choice of retail shops interesting.”

“What’s so interesting about it?” asked Theodosia. She found Alston impudent, annoying, and just this side of attractive.

“It’s out of character for you. You don’t seem like the social butterfly type.”

“I’m not,” she said. “I’m just picking up something for a special occasion.”

His eyes twinkled an iridescent shade of blue. “Care to tell me what occasion that might be? A date, perhaps? Or . . . ?”

“That’s right,” Theodosia said as she brushed past him. “I have a date.”

Please don’t follow me
, she thought to herself, as she pushed through the front door of Cotton Duck.
Please don’t follow me.
But when she glanced back over her shoulder, Alston was nowhere in sight. And, much to her surprise, she felt just the faintest twinge of disappointment.

Janine, Delaine’s perpetually overworked assistant, looked up from behind the counter and said, “Delaine called. She said you were having a fashion crisis?”

“Not me,” said Theodosia.

Janine nodded knowingly. “Let me guess. You’re helping out at the Summer Garden Tour tonight and Delaine wants to play dress-up with you?”

“Something like that, yes,” said Theodosia. She glanced around the interior of Cotton Duck. Racks of long gowns hung next to circular racks of silky tops with matching pajama pants. Elegant peek-a-boo camisoles nestled in silk-lined boxes on antique highboys. Strands of opera pearls hung down and mingled with an array of charm bracelets, chain necklaces, and diaphanous scarves. Glass shelves displayed handbags of supple leather, gleaming reptile, and whisper-soft suede. A display of shoes offered teetering high heels by Louboutin and Jimmy Choo. There were also racks of elegant, airy cotton clothing perfectly suited to Charleston’s high heat and humidity, as well as swishy skirts and even a few racks of vintage clothes. And Delaine’s latest addition included several high-end lingerie lines, including La Perla, Cosabella, and Guia La Bruna from Italy.

“Delaine specified something silky,” said Janine, as she grabbed a midnight-blue tunic top with matching tapered slacks. “I thought . . . maybe this?” She held it out to Theodosia. “It’s by a Miami designer. Stephano Millar.”

The drapey silk felt whisper-soft between Theodosia’s fingers. “This is actually . . . tasteful. For Delaine, I mean.” She’d been expecting a one-shoulder number with spangles. Like a pageant dress or something from the old
Dynasty
TV show.

“Delaine is prone to glitz and glam,” Janine agreed. “But this is lovely.”

“So I should try it on,” said Theodosia. The more she gazed at the outfit, the more she liked it. A nice change from her silk T-shirts, khaki slacks, and flats. “But could I still wear flats with this? I’m going to be on my feet all night.”

“Slip it on, dear,” said Janine. “Let’s see what we’re working with.”

Theodosia took the outfit and was about to flit off to the dressing room when she turned and asked, “Did a man come in here a few minutes earlier? A fellow by the name of Jack Alston?”

“No,” said Janine. “Not that I know of. And I’ve been here all afternoon.”

“Okay, thanks.” Theodosia pushed aside the dressing room curtain and kicked off her shoes. She wondered what Jack Alston was doing hanging around Cotton Duck. Had he been looking for Delaine? Waiting for her? If so, why? Was he planning to follow her? Did he think she might lead him somewhere? Somewhere where he might find a cache of contraband cigars?

Theodosia pondered this as she tried on the silk outfit. She didn’t want to believe that Delaine had inside information she hadn’t divulged. On the other hand, Delaine hadn’t been thinking straight for the past five days. So maybe . . . maybe she held a small piece of the puzzle and didn’t even realize it.

22

Teakettles hissed and
shrieked as Theodosia and Haley flew around Dougan Granville’s enormous kitchen like a pair of crazed wraiths. It was six forty-five at night. Seven was the witching hour when Summer Garden Tour guests would begin to arrive in droves.

“Now we have to watch the steeping times!” Theodosia warned. White teas required only one to two minutes, and black teas between two and three minutes, while herbal teas could steep for three to six minutes.

“I’m trying to stay right on the money,” said Haley, grabbing teapots right and left. “But this is tricky! I mean . . . jeez, where’s Drayton when we need him?” She touched the back of her hand to her forehead and said, “Did I really just say that? I was so sure we could handle this ourselves.”

“We can,” said Theodosia. She snatched a teakettle off the stove and placed it on a metal trivet. “If we keep our wits about us and stay focused.”

“I don’t know how you guys do it every day,” said Haley. “Brewing tea is tricky business.”

“Drayton and I think
you’re
the one who’s always in the hot seat,” said Theodosia. “Between baking scones and quick breads and whipping up soups and tea sandwiches.”

Haley gave an airy wave of her hand. “Naw, that’s just my brand of fun. But this . . . I’m a little out of my element. Maybe I should have paid closer attention to Drayton when he gave all those tea lectures.”

“Once we set up our tea table in the garden outside, we’ll be able to ease up a little,” said Theodosia. She had brought along three tea samovars, and the plan was to let everyone help themselves.

“Hey,” said Haley. “I like that silky outfit you’ve got on. Did you get it at Cotton Duck?”

“Where else?” said Theodosia. “For whatever reason, Delaine wanted me to be all duded up.”

“Say what you want about Delaine,” said Haley. “But the lady does have style and beaucoup good taste. Um, do you want me to start setting out the desserts?”

“Please,” said Theodosia. She knew Haley was anxious to be relieved of any and all tea-brewing duties.

“Wait until you see what I made,” said Haley, looking impish and excited as she dug into the multiple baskets and boxes she’d carried in. “Wait! Don’t look yet! Let me get everything all set up.”

Theodosia went back to focusing solely on tea.

Haley worked busily for a few minutes, then whirled around to face Theodosia. “Ta-da!” She threw her hands up in the air.

Theodosia stared at what was one of the most innovative and delicious-looking food displays she’d ever seen, and couldn’t help but smile. Haley had created a veritable ocean of espresso cookies, lemon bars, and . . . wait a minute. Were those really cake pops?

“You made cake pops?”

Haley nodded happily. Cake pops were a hot new trend: delicious little rounds of cake that were dipped in frosting, decorated, and then served on a stick.

Theodosia plucked one from the colorful display and said, “How on earth did you find the time?”

Haley shrugged. “Sandwiched in between everything else. I whipped up a triple batch of cake batter and baked them a batch at a time, using a set of special little cake pop baking molds. Then I stuck ’em on little wooden sticks and added my frosting.”

“You also rolled some in powdered sugar and crushed pecans,” said Theodosia. She was amazed by the artistry in Haley’s work.

“And look, some also have buttercream frosting with bits of maraschino cherries,” said Haley, taking pride in ownership. “And some of the chocolate ones are rolled in sea salt.”

“Haley, they’re gorgeous! You worked like a dog on this!”

Haley ducked her head. “No. Well . . . yeah. Maybe.”

“You did,” said Theodosia.

“The champagne buttercream frosting was a little tricky,” Haley admitted. “And the milk chocolate cake pops were putsy. But, hey, I just wanted everything to be super nice.”

“You’re the one who’s super nice. Working at the tea shop all day and then whipping these up like it was nothing at all.”

“It’s the least I could do,” said Haley. “You shouldn’t be stuck with honchoing this whole event.”

“I probably should have just called in a caterer and sent the bill to Delaine,” said Theodosia.

Haley clapped a hand to her chest as if she’d just taken a bullet. “A rival caterer! Ah, Theo, you’d never do that, would you?”

“Not if it’s going to give you a case of apoplexy.”

“Well, it would,” said Haley. “I really think it would.”

“Theo!” called a voice. “Theo! I need you, dear!”

“Delaine,” said Haley, just as Delaine rushed into the kitchen. Her hair was swirled atop her head, her heart-shaped face was perfectly made up, and she wore a floor-length white gown that looked like something a Grecian goddess would have worn to a fancy party on Mt. Olympus.

“Wow,” said Theodosia. “Look at you. All glammed up.”

“If I’m going to play hostess it’s the least I can do,” said Delaine.

“That’s funny,” muttered Haley, “I thought
we
were the hostesses.”

Delaine spun on her and her eyes glinted. “Well, you are, of course. You’re my two dessert hostesses. But I’m the official meeter and greeter.”

“That’s quite a dress,” said Theodosia, trying to steer the conversation into more neutral territory.

“Vintage,” Delaine confided. “Halston couture.”

“It’s not from Simone’s shop, is it?” asked Theodosia.

Delaine looked horrified. “Definitely not! Besides, you know I carry my own rack of vintage clothing at Cotton Duck. Vintage is one of the hottest things going, kind of a fashion insider’s secret. I’m sure you’ve noticed a few big-name Hollywood stars wearing vintage gowns on the red carpet? In fact, ever since I expanded my shop, I’ve made a conscious effort to increase my vintage collection.”

“Where on earth do you find all your pieces?” asked Theodosia. Was there a time warp somewhere she didn’t know about? A tear in the fabric of the universe where all the vintage dresses were stored?

“Here and there,” said Delaine, looking both mysterious and evasive. “I have a couple of contacts in Miami Beach, a pair of darling ladies in Beverly Hills, and a stylist in New York City.”

“Sounds like you’ve developed quite a network,” said Haley.

“Obviously,” said Delaine.

“What do you think of Haley’s cake pops?” asked Theodosia, gesturing at the rather grand display.

Delaine gave a cursory glance. “Lovely. Now shouldn’t the two of you be transporting everything outside to the serving table? We’re minutes away from throwing open the front door, and we wouldn’t want to keep our guests waiting.”

“We were just about to do that when you came dashing in,” said Theodosia.

“I’m sure it’s going to be a lovely dessert table.” Delaine smiled at Haley. “What do you call your little pastries, dear? Cake plops?”

“Cake
pops
,” said Haley.

*   *   *

Once the candles
were lit, the tea samovars filled, and the dessert trays set on the large serving table in the back garden, Theodosia was able to relax. White linen tablecloths covered the tables that were scattered about the patio. Moody, low-level lights lit the stone paths that wove through the gardens. The harpist Delaine had hired was plucking away.

“This is gorgeous,” said Haley. “We do good work.”

“We do,” said Theodosia. “Even though Delaine was in charge of the cleaning, gardening, and party rental crews.”

“Well, it all looks positively grand,” said Haley, as guests began filtering into the backyard. “And look, people are actually helping themselves to tea and desserts.”

“And strolling through the garden,” said Theodosia. They’d experienced a few hairy moments along the way, but everything seemed to have worked out nicely.

“And look who just showed up.”

“Angie!” said Theodosia, as Angie Congdon, cute, petite, with strawberry blond hair, strolled toward her on the arm of a tall, good-looking man. “I haven’t seen you . . .”

“In ages,” finished Angie. She was the proprietor of the Featherbed House B and B, located a few blocks from the Indigo Tea Shop.

“Or at least a few weeks,” said Theodosia.

“It’s our busy time, don’t you know?” said Angie. “We’ve only just recovered from the Spoleto Festival and now we’re into peak tourist season, so our rooms are rented to the rafters.” She paused and said, “Theo, Haley, I’d like you to meet a dear friend of mine. This is Harold Affolter.”

“Nice to meet you,” said Theodosia, shaking his hand.

“Pleased,” said Haley, nodding.

“Harold and I are . . . seeing each other,” said Angie. She grinned widely and blushed.

“That’s wonderful,” said Theodosia.

“Cool,” said Haley. Angie’s first husband, Mark, had been killed a few years ago, and it had taken her a long time to finally begin dating again.

“I take it you two ladies are responsible for all this?” said Harold, gazing out over the patio and gardens.

“Just the tea and treats,” said Theodosia.

“Still,” said Angie. “I imagine it was a formidable task.”

“But oh, so delicious,” said Theodosia. “So please help yourself.” She’d just spotted Allan Grumley out of the corner of her eye. “Please enjoy yourselves and hopefully we’ll get a chance to chat later.” She moved off hastily, wanting to buttonhole Grumley before Delaine did.

Speeding across the patio, Theodosia hooked Grumley’s arm and said, in no uncertain terms, “A word, please?”

Grumley stared at her. “What do you want now?”

“I want you to start extending some professional courtesy to Delaine. I know she has another meeting scheduled with you tomorrow and I’m hoping this one will go better than the last one.”

“She’s hired an attorney,” said Grumley.

“Yes, she did. On my advice.”

“You didn’t think you were a skillful enough advocate?”

“Advocate, yes. But I’m not schooled in the letter of the law. And Delaine needs to have some important questions answered.”

“We’ll take care of all that,” said Grumley.

“I certainly hope so.”

Grumley cocked his head and gazed out across the garden, where leaves rustled and flowers bobbed in the evening breeze. “This is such a magnificent property.”

“It is lovely,” Theodosia responded. She glanced sideways at him. “Are you interested in buying it?”

Grumley dodged her question. “I’ve always loved this place. As you well know, my partner possessed impeccable style and taste.”

“That’s what Delaine always says,” said Theodosia. “About herself.”

“Then the two of them were well suited for each other, weren’t they?”

“
Were
being the operative word,” said Theodosia.

Grumley lifted his teacup to his mouth and took a sip. “Excellent tea.”

“You enjoy tea?”

“Depends on the occasion,” said Grumley.

Theodosia gazed at Grumley and thought to herself,
You’re a real slicko, aren’t you?
And, for a brief moment, she wondered if Allan Grumley might have been the one pawing through Granville’s house last night. Pulling open drawers, looking for . . . whatever.

Or, wild card candidate, had it been Delaine after all? But no, Delaine would never sneak in like that. It wasn’t her style. She would have gone barreling in, flipped on all the lights, and searched top to bottom, very methodically. And when it came to fleeing the scene, Delaine wasn’t any kind of runner. She was more of a . . . Theodosia racked her brain, trying to figure out what exercise Delaine enjoyed. Pilates. That was it. She was more into Pilates.

*   *   *

An hour into
the event, just when Theodosia was beginning to think they’d pulled off a major coup, Delaine came flying into the kitchen.

“Theo!” she cried. “That hag Simone Asher just showed up! She’s wandering around the living room as if she’s the empress of China!”

This was the last thing Theodosia needed—a hysterical, crying Delaine on her hands. Hoping to defuse the situation, Theodosia said, “China doesn’t have an emperor or empress anymore, remember? That all ended with Mao and company.”

Delaine ground her teeth together and her eyes blazed demonically. “Theo. If you’re any kind of friend to me, you’ll shoo that woman out of this house!”

“We can’t just toss her out on her ear,” Theodosia reasoned. “Simone obviously purchased a ticket for the tour.”

“I don’t care if she holds a season pass!” said Delaine. “I don’t care if she’s got an engraved invitation from the grand poobah of the garden club. Just get rid of her! Please!”

Theodosia put her hands on Delaine’s shoulders and attempted to steer her out the back door. “You be a good girl and go outside, okay? Promise me you won’t make a scene and I’ll see what I can do.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.”

But when Theodosia went back inside, there was no sign of Simone anywhere. Theodosia thought Simone might have decided she didn’t want to mix it up with Delaine so she just up and left. But, somehow, a quick hit-and-run didn’t seem in keeping with Simone’s personality. Simone was a lot more aggressive than that. Pit bull aggressive. So that meant . . .

Theodosia glanced around the living room, where people were filtering through on their way to the backyard garden. And suddenly she wondered if Simone hadn’t maybe taken a detour upstairs. But why? To upset the apple cart and annoy Delaine even more? Or just have a last nostalgic look around?

Easy enough to find out.

Theodosia raced up the stairs, taking them two at a time. When she reached the second-floor landing, she stopped. No sign of anyone here. But that didn’t mean Simone wasn’t snooping around where she wasn’t welcome.

Walking purposely down the hallway to the master bedroom, Theodosia pushed open one of the double doors. And found . . .

“Simone!”

Simone whirled around to face her, a mixture of surprise and shock on her face.

“What are you doing here?” Theodosia demanded.

“Nothing,” Simone said in an airy tone. “I’m just . . . looking around.”

Dressed in a tailored white pantsuit with snappy navy trim, Simone looked cool and calculating. Theodosia decided Simone might even be enjoying this impromptu confrontation.