The editor had decided yesterday that he could work just as comfortably in the office as in the penthouse, now that his leg wasn't paining him as much. He had said it would probably be better for him anyway, less distraction. Terri supposed it was out of the question for a while now.
Bastien handed Vincent the second drink he'd made, then turned slowly to contemplate the flowers on nearly every surface in the living room.
Terri glanced around, too. Miraculously, none of the remaining arrangements had been disturbed by the fracas. The breaking glass they had heard had apparently been Chris's cup of coffee smashing to the floor.
"I guess I should make that call, then get back to taking those pictures," he decided.
"And I'll clean up the broken cup while you make the phone call, then I'll help you," Terri announced.
"And I…" Vincent paused to down his whiskey. Setting the empty glass down, he said, "Have to go feed. I mean, find something to eat. I'm starved."
Terri glanced at her watch at the announcement.
They had wasted the better part of the afternoon and early evening at the hospital. It was now past seven. They hadn't eaten since breakfast.
"Why don't you make yourself something to eat, Terri?" Bastien suggested. "I can handle the rest of the photos on my own while you cook."
"Okay," she agreed slowly. "Is there anything in particular you'd like?"
"I'm not hungry," he said. "Just fix yourself what you want. I'll grab a… er… sandwich… later if I get hungry."
Terri hesitated, then said, "I'll make a
couple
of sandwiches, and bring them into the office. We can eat while we work."
Chapter Ten
"Well, that's one crisis taken care of," Bastien announced as Terri entered the office. "Kate got the e-mail last night. She and Lucern looked over the pictures and picked the arrangements they wanted, then e-mailed them to me. They were in my in-box when I got up this morning, and I just called Roberto to pass along their decision." He narrowed his eyes when he noted Terri's grim expression. She approached the desk. "You don't look happy. You should be relieved. Tragedy has been averted. We saved the wedding."
"I'm glad we've averted that problem. Now we have another one."
She laid the newspaper she'd brought with her on the desk in front of him, and Bastien glanced down. She'd folded it in half. There were three stories showing.
"I'm guessing you aren't wanting me to look at the story on New York doing a doggie census?" he asked.
"Try the story next to it," she suggested.
" 'Bankrupt Caterer Commits Suicide,'" he read aloud, then glanced up blankly. "So?"
"I'm pretty sure that's Kate's caterer."
"Dear God," Bastien breathed.
"Hmm." Heaving a sigh, Terri dropped into the seat facing his desk. "I'm not positive, though."
They stared at each other for a moment, then Bastien reached for the phone.
"It's just after six A.M. in California," Terri reminded him, having guessed his intention of calling Kate and Lucern.
Bastien hesitated. "Too early?"
"From what Kate's told me about conferences, they last until late at night. She probably won't be up for another hour. And I wouldn't want to wake her up with
this
news."
"No. You're right." He set the phone back down. "I should wait another hour at least."
"I would," Terri agreed.
Bastien nodded, then began to drum his fingers on the desk. He wasn't used to inactivity in a crisis, but he also didn't have a clue what to do. And this time, even
he
could see it was a crisis.
"We could make up a list of caterers to contact in case this guy
is
her caterer," Terri suggested after a moment.
"Good thinking. At least that way, we won't just be calling with bad news. If it
is
him," Bastien added.
Sincerely hoping it wasn't, he pulled the Yellow Pages out from the drawer where it was stored. Terri stood and walked around the desk to look over his shoulder. Bastien leafed through, looking for the section with caterers. He relaxed a little when he saw that the list was several pages long.
"There are a ton of them," Terri murmured.
"Yes. That's good. Isn't it?"
"Not necessarily," she said. "Many of them will be booked up and unavailable, so we'll waste time calling those, and I haven't a clue which of those left over are good. Do you?"
"Damn," Bastien breathed. He was the detail man, the decision man, the crisis man—the one everyone looked to when a problem cropped up. But he'd never been faced with these kinds of problems. Food wasn't a big priority in Bastien's life, and therefore it wasn't a problem he had any experience dealing with. The only time he had to worry about food was during business meetings that included mortals, and then he just handed the problem over to: "Meredith!"
"Meredith?" Terri asked.
"She'll know which are the good caterers and which are the bad ones, and…" Not bothering to finish his explanation, Bastien picked up the phone again. This time he punched in the number to his office. Meredith picked up on the second ring.
"Argeneau Enterprises."
"Meredith, I think Kate's caterer killed himself," he blurted by way of hello. "I need a list of the best caterers in town. We have to call them all and see which are available for the date of her wedding."
The woman didn't exclaim in horror at this newest tragedy plaguing Kate's wedding, or bother with questions; she simply snapped, "I'm on it. Do you have her menu plan for what she wanted served?"
Bastien blinked, then glanced at Terri. "Do we have a menu plan for what she wanted served at the wedding?" he echoed.
"A menu plan?" She considered for a minute, then straightened abruptly. "I might. She e-mailed it to me. Actually, that e-mail mentioned who the caterer was, too. If I still have it, we might not have to trouble Kate with this at all. Can I use the computer?"
"Be my guest."
Phone still to his ear, Bastien stood and stepped aside for Terri to sit in the desk chair and start up the computer. He didn't bother explaining what was going on to Meredith; she had probably heard anyway. Instead, he watched as the computer warmed up and Terri logged on to the internet. It only took a moment for her to open her e-mail program and find the e-mail needed.
"It
was
her caterer," she said with a sigh. "But I
do
have the menu plan. That's something, anyway."
"Forward it to Meredith," Bastien instructed, then gave her his secretary's e-mail address before speaking into the phone again. "Terri's forwarding it to you, Meredith. Is there anything else you need?"
When she said no, and assured him that she'd get back to him directly, Bastien thanked her and said good-bye.
"She's good," he commented as he hung up. "I should give her a raise."
"Yes. You probably should," Terri agreed with a laugh. She closed the e-mail program, then the Internet itself. Once that was done, she turned off the computer. "She seems very efficient."
"Well, you aren't too shabby yourself," Bastien said softly as she stood. "Someone else might not have caught that news article, or recognized the name."
"Hmm," Terri murmured. "I need coffee."
"I'll make you one," Bastien offered.
"Actually, I have one," she said, moving around the desk toward the door. "I was drinking it while reading the paper, but forgot it in the living room when I saw that article."
"I guess we'll have to delay our outing today." Bastien's gaze dropped to Terri's behind as he followed her out of the office. He was beginning to understand Lucern's fascination with Kate's behind. Not that he found Kate's rear end fascinating, but Terri's? Well, that was another matter.
"What outing?" Terri asked. When she glanced over her shoulder at him in surprise, Bastien forced his eyes up to hers.
"I was thinking maybe I would take you around the tourist stops today. You shouldn't leave without seeing those," he said as they walked along the hall. "But we'll have to do that tomorrow, I guess. There could be a lot of places to call when Meredith finishes a list."
"I'll take half," Terri offered.
"I was hoping you would," he admitted.
She chuckled, then sighed as they entered the living room. "I wonder what else will go wrong. What's next, do you think: The reception hall burns to the ground? The church floods? Or perhaps the parking garage holding the wedding limo explodes?" She dropped onto the couch and picked up her coffee, taking a sip. "I'm starting to think this wedding is doomed."
"Hmm," Bastien murmured, but his attention was on Chris. The editor's expression was making him nervous. A look of realization had crossed his face as Terri made her facetious comments.
He didn't feel much better when the editor breathed, "Oh, damn," in a sort of horror.
"What?" Bastien asked, afraid he didn't want to know.
"I just thought of something," Chris said.
"What?" Terri lowered her coffee cup to eye him anxiously.
"The flowers."
"Oh." She relaxed. "We've taken care of the flower problems, C.K. Kate's chosen the ones she wants from the arrangements Roberto sent over. It's all decided and settled."
"No. Not the
live
flowers. The tissue flowers," he explained. "For the cars."
"What about the tissue flowers?" Terri asked, her gaze shooting to Bastien. "I thought they were made and ready to go?"
"They are," Bastien assured her, quite relieved to be able to say that. He moved to sit on the couch next to her. "Lucern and Kate took care of it. He was complaining the day you arrived about it taking forever."
"Yes, they did make them, and it did take forever," Chris agreed, looking miserable. "But Kate's place is small. Really small. And she didn't have anywhere to store them."
"No," Terri breathed.
"What?" Bastien asked. He didn't like being the one in the dark, and her expression suggested she already had an idea of what was coming.
Chris grimaced, then nodded at Terri. "She asked me to store them."
Bastien suddenly had a thought.
"Where
did you store them, Chris?"
"My apartment."
"Where in your apartment?" he asked, knowing the editor's evasiveness was a very bad sign. And there was only one place that the flowers would have been damaged.
C.K. sighed, then seemed to decide there was no hope but to confess. However, he prefaced the confession with an excuse. "My place isn't all that big, either," he said.
"
Where?"
Terri asked wearily.
"The bathroom."
"Dear God," she moaned.
"They may still be safe."
"And the pope might be Protestant," Bastien snapped. "Why on earth would you put them in the
bathroom
of all places?"
"In case he ran out of toilet paper?" Vincent suggested. He yawned as he entered the living room.
Bastien was less than amused. "Shut up, Vinny. Don't you have a rehearsal to go to or something?"
"No. Lucky for you, I'm free today. And don't call me Vinny."
"Lucky?" Bastien snorted.
"I put them in the bathroom because that's the only place I had room," Chris explained, drawing their attention again. "It's an old building, and the bathroom is huge compared to the bathrooms they make now."
Bastien muttered something uncomplimentary under his breath regarding the editor's intelligence. Chris heard him and flushed, then said, "She brought them over in cardboard boxes. But I put those boxes in big black garbage bags to protect them from the humidity when I showered and stuff, so they might still be okay."
Bastien glanced at Terri. She was looking to him in question, a glimmer of hope in her eyes. But he had been at the apartment. From what he had seen, the chance that Kate's flowers were still okay wasn't good. He didn't want to upset Terri until he knew for sure, though. "I'll have to go check on them."
"Do you want me to come?" Terri asked.
Bastien hesitated. He really would like her to go with him. He enjoyed her company. But the landlady had given him a hard time when last he'd gone to the editor's apartment; and if he ran into her again and she caused difficulties, Bastien might have to take control of her mind again. It would be easier if Terri weren't there for that.
"No," he said at last. "Perhaps you could wait here for Meredith's call? I'll be as quick as I can."
"Okay," she agreed promptly.
"Thanks." He stood and started out of the room.
"Bastien?" Chris called after him, bringing him to a halt in the entry. "You need the keys," the editor said, and grabbed them off the coffee table where they had sat for the past few days. He tossed them over, then added, "Would you mind picking up some more clothes for me while you're there?"
Bastien grunted and turned to leave. Whether he would or not depended on his mood. And that would depend on the state the flowers were in.
"I tried to get a hold of Kate's catering company this morning, hoping that someone would at least be there to take calls and answer questions, but of course they aren't answering the phones. If there's even anyone there to answer the phones anymore."
"Hmm," Terri murmured into the receiver. She wasn't terribly surprised at the news. Neither was she surprised that Meredith had checked it out. The woman seemed superefficient.
"But I was able to get some information from other sources, and it would appear that any deposit Kate might have given the caterer is as good as gone. She isn't likely to see it back. Nor can she expect any service. The company is completely defunct."
"I was afraid of that."
"Yes," Bastien's secretary agreed. "So I called around to all the best caterers in town. They're all booked up, of course."
"Of course," Terri said wearily.
"However, Argeneau Enterprises does a lot of business each year in catering, and our contracts are coveted and everyone is eager to impress us, so almost all of the caterers are willing to hire extra staff and do whatever is necessary. They're no doubt hoping to make enough of an impression to get future contracts."