[ Highest Rank #101 in Mystery/Thriller ]
Time has passed. Things have changed. Isabeth, Benny, and Faith aren't quite the same. They have blood on their hands, a code they honor, and secrets they keep locked away. The Psychopath Maker knows this an...
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Tuesday's Treats on Nightfall and Haven was the last place Faith wanted to be at 10:18 on this morning but it was where she had to be. It was where Giselle ordered her to be if she wanted new clothes for fall, nails by Aiku, weekly Swedish massages by Helga, Sunday hair appointments with the exclusive Thomas, and her membership at McNamara Gym and Spa. So, to stay in Giselle's good graces Faith suffered through the chore of helping Poppy pick a wedding cake.
Faith tossed a bite-size chunk of dark chocolate, passion fruit curd filled, salted ganache cake into her mouth letting her taste buds tingle. "Can you tell me why I'm here again?" The rich chocolate stuck to the roof of Faith's mouth.
Poppy Mittlesteadt, the size zero-strawberry blonde with a disdain for ponytails stopped nibbling on the cube of red velvet cake "To help me pick a cake. I want to choose something Augustus and I both like." She dabbed the corners of her mouth with a napkin waiting for Lorraine to place down the next tray of samples. Poppy let her hand flutter over an assortment of colored, topped ounces of delicious sugar and creamy icing. "Where did the name Evening come from anyways? It sounds like a strange moniker for a town."
Faith stared at Poppy with her mouth opened.
"What?" Poppy chuckled the butterscotch, almond sample in the aluminum bucket at the end of the table.
"Do you and Auggie talk after you screw or do you just...roll out of bed?" Faith pushed the tray of samples away from her. She wasn't going to waste her entire day of calories at a bakery. "Everyone that lives in Evening knows about Evening."
Poppy plucked a crumb off her pink and teal Lilly Pulitzer dress, "I don't live in Evening." She resided in a loft in Boston, splitting her time between the two towns.
"But you're engaged to an ancestor of one of the founding members of Evening." Faith rolled her eyes. "You should know that because of segregation the wealthy blacks couldn't vacate in the Hamptons so they forged their own town in Massachusetts."
Poppy stopped waving Lorraine over, "You're black?" Her hand fell down, smacking the table.
"You two really do just fuck." Faith chuckled as Mrs. Redmond complained about the font on the birthday cake. "We're creole. We Payson's nee Toliver's and Garmeaux's have a lot of Plaçage in our family. Some of us are dark as night, some of us are light bright damn near white; these are things you should know. Aurora did. She also...picked out her own cake."
Faith remembered the days she and Aurora trekked all over New England for the perfect decadent mixture of flour, eggs, and sugar. After weeks of tastings, they gave Tuesday's one more try. After two hours and fifteen minutes Tuesday ushered out a plate adorned with a sample that made Aurora purred and utter, This is the amalgamation of Picasso and Van Gough, out of this world perfect, celestial beings are harmonizing on my taste buds.
"I'm not Aurora."
"Damn." Faith pouted adjusting the aviator sunglasses at the top of her head. "You just proved me wrong." Poppy looked quizzically, "Yes."
"You don't lie about everything." Faith grinned
"Is this your idea of helping me?" Poppy played with her seven-carat princess cut engagement ring. "I asked Giselle to ask you to be my matron of honor so we could bond but I guess you don't want the same thing."
"You don't want to bond with me, Poppy. You want us to appear to be bonding so Auggie can see and think you're putting in an effort with his little sister. So, you'll get my approval because no matter how strong the hold you and Giselle have over him he still values my approval and I've only given that to one person and like you just said you're not Aurora."
Poppy huffed speechless.
Faith pulled her glasses onto her face. "I have things to do...like, decide like if lilacs or tulips will layer the aisle for the elegant wedding at our ranch house in Austin. You know—the wedding you won't get married at." Faith picked up a dark chocolate square off another table. "Put it on my tab." She ordered the girl standing behind the counter with pound cakes drizzled with glaze and brownies topped with pecans displayed in glass cases like diamonds at Tiffany's.
