777 Bush Street
Thursday, April 15, 1954
Just before lunch
Robert was waiting expectantly when Nick and Marnie walked back in the office door.
"Got any more bright ideas?" Nick immediately wished he'd said something else. Robert was doing his level best to help out an almost impossible situation. It wasn't his fault that Mrs. Wilson was having serious wedding jitters and that both Nick and Marnie wanted their parents to marry in the worst way. Nick shuddered to imagine how quickly his father would revert to his old, evil ways if they didn't get married.
Robert's face fell. "She didn't go for it?"
"Nope," replied Nick as he walked over to his desk and dejectedly plopped down on his swivel chair.
"Well, let's talk about the reception," offered Robert in an optimistic tone.
"What about it?" asked Marnie as she removed her coat and hung it up.
"I've just been on the phone with the Mark Hopkins. They think they can accommodate 150 and offer finger sandwiches and crudité and other bits and bites. It's too late for anything like a hot meal. But their ballroom would be perfect."
That sounded good to Nick. He looked over at Marnie. "What do you think, doll?"
She bit her lip and sighed. "Well, it's better than nothing."
Before Nick could say anything, the outer office door slammed open and Sam Halverson burst in. "Hey, Nick!"
"Yeah?"
Looking at Marnie, Sam said, "I hear you're trying to put on a wedding at the last moment. That so?"
"That's so."
"Well, how's it going? Maybe I can help."
Nick sat up. Maybe Sam could help. Even though he'd only lived there for less than 20 years, he knew just about everyone in the City and was more connected than any native Nick had ever met. Feeling cautiously hopeful, he asked, "What kind of help?"
Sam swaggered over to Nick's desk, yanked on his trousers, and had a seat in the guest chair. The man wasn't tall, but he was broad and had a muscular build. With a big grin, he said, "If the bride and groom like Italian, we can probably feed everyone through my connections."
"Yeah?" asked Nick as he looked over at Marnie.
Sam crossed his legs and sat back. "Yeah. Look, we get two or three old grandmothers baking lasagnas and some nice, crunchy bread and there you have it. Bring in some bottles of red wine from Napa County and what more could you ask for?"
"Well, doll? What do you think?"
Marnie frowned a little as she thought about it. "Mother loves lasagna. How about your father?"
"He'll be fine," said Nick, wondering if that was true.
"What about a cake?" asked Robert.
"There is a bakery on 29th Street that Mother loves," offered Marnie. "They do beautiful wedding cakes."
"Is there enough time, though?" asked Robert.
Marnie sighed and then walked over to her desk and sat down. Everyone else waited as she pulled out her copy of Polk's and began to page through it, looking for the phone number.
Sam looked over at Nick. In a whisper, he said, "If they can't do it, I know someone who can." He grinned.
"Who?" Nick asked, whispering back.
"You ever see Tammy L'Amoure perform at the Black Cat?"
Nick nodded. "Isn't she a friend of the Nightingale?" That was the stage name of a friend of his whose real name was José Sarria and who, like Tammy, worked as a female illusionist.
"Of course. To work at the Black Cat, you have to be."
"What about her?"
"She makes some amazing cakes."
"Really?"
Right then, they heard Marnie say, "Good morning. I was wondering if I could ask about ordering a wedding cake."
Sam leaned forward and put his thick arms on the edge of Nick's desk. "She has a friend, LaDoris LaDay, who helps her out. You should see some of the cakes those gals make."
By that time, Robert had walked over. He looked down at Sam and whispered, "Are you talking about that Golden Gate Bridge cake they made last year?"
"Yeah," replied Sam as he looked up at the kid. "Were you there at that party at Ethel's down the block?"
"Ethel's?" Nick whispered. "Never heard of it."
From the other room, Marnie said, "Yes, thank you. I'd like to order a wedding cake."
Robert knelt down next to Sam. "It was next to the Owl Market and only open for about three months. That was before I came to work for you."
Sam added, "There were some wild parties in that place. Unfortunately, Ethel had a terrible heroin addiction and died last summer."
In the other room, Marnie said, "Well, we're having approximately a hundred and fifty guests. And any flavor will do, but vanilla is the bride's favorite. Oh, and those roses made out of icing."
Sam said, "LaDoris makes roses and violets and daisies and any other thing you can imagine. She's a real artist." He leaned a little closer. "You really should hire them to do something, Nick. I saw Tammy a couple of nights ago and gave her a twenty, she was that hard up. I hate it when either of them have to turn tricks to make a living."
Nick nodded and looked at Robert. "Well, at least, we could move them into one of our buildings in the Tenderloin, right?"
"Sure. There's a big two bedroom that's available on—"
"The wedding is taking place on this Saturday."
Robert made a face and the three men waited to hear what happened next.
"Oh, I see." Marnie sounded disappointed. "I completely understand. Of course." She sighed. "Well, thank you for your time." With that she hung up.
Nick called out, "No good, doll?"
After a big sniff and then pausing to blow her nose, Marnie said, "No good."
"Sam has an idea," Nick offered.
Marnie didn't move. "That's nice."
Sam reached over and grabbed the phone receiver. "Klondike 4-3321."
Nick dialed that number and waited.
After only a ring or two, Sam smiled and said, "Good morning, Tammy! This is Sam Halverson. I hope I didn't wake you up." He winked and then said, "I have a friend who needs a big wedding cake, enough to feed a hundred and fifty and he needs it by Saturday at 2. Can you and LaDoris pull that together?" He nodded and scratched the side of his nose as he listened. "Well, cancel all that. My friend'll pay you a grand plus he's got an apartment you and LaDoris can move into whenever you're ready. Rent free." He winked again. Nodding, he then added, "Sure, it's on the level. This is Sam, sweetheart. You know me. I always make good." He listened for a long moment and then said, "It's for Nick Williams. You know? The queer millionaire. He's my boss and he's loaded and—" He grinned across the desk. "Well, he's in love with the biggest fireman—" He laughed. "That's right. Carter Jones."
Nick looked at Robert and rolled his eyes. Carter was always much more popular. He was the most handsome man in North America, after all.
"You'll do it?" He nodded. "Sure. Come over to 777 Bush and pick up as much dough as you need for supplies. I'll be here and waiting. See ya!"
Nick could hear an excited squeal on the other end of the line as Sam put the receiver back in its cradle. Looking over at the doorway, Nick saw that Marnie was standing there, her mouth agape. "Well, doll, that takes care of the food for the reception. What else?"
. . .
Carter walked into Nick's office. Neither Marnie nor Robert were there. But Nick was at his desk.
Pointing to a box, he said, "Got you a ham and swiss on rye, right here, Chief."
Carter walked over and sat in his favorite spot which was the corner of Nick's desk. He never tired of looking down at his husband from that vantage point. "Where's everyone?"
Nick handed over the sandwich wrapped in wax paper held in place with a toothpick. "Robert is having lunch with Henry and I don't know where Marnie went." Henry Wilson was Carter's first lover who'd fallen in love with Robert last November. The two now lived together and, from everything Carter could see, were more than happy together.
Having unwrapped his sandwich, Carter rolled the wax paper into a ball and tossed it in the garbage pail next to Nick's desk. "What'd you get for lunch?" he asked before taking a bite.
"The usual. Turkey with mayo on white."
Carter nodded. After swallowing his bite, he said, "What's happening in the case of the on-again, off-again wedding?"
Nick chuckled, his chocolate milk brown eyes twinkling a little as he did. Carter, unable to help himself, brushed his shoe against Nick's leg.
"Well," replied his husband, "unless I'm otherwise distracted, I'll tell you."
. . .
"Y'all got a lot done," said Carter to Nick once he was done going over what had happened that morning. Nick thought he sounded impressed.
"Yeah, but we still need a church."
Carter nodded. Nick loved it when his husband perched on the corner of his desk. He loved how much taller it made Carter appear to be. Nick enjoyed that kind of perspective. For some reason, he always had.
"Any suggestions?" asked Nick.
Carter took a leisurely bite and then swallowed and said, "How about—?"
The phone started ringing. Nick said, "Hold that thought," picked up the receiver, and said, "Yeah?"
A slightly aggravated male voice said, "I'm calling for Mr. Nicholas Williams."
"This is he. Who's this?"
"This is Mr. Parker Van Klein. I believe you spoke with my wife today."
Nick sat up a little, leaned forward, and held out the receiver from his ear so Carter could bend over and listen in. "Yes, Mr. Van Klein. That's correct."
"Am I to understand you have made an offer to underwrite my daughter's wedding in exchange for our giving up our use of Grace Cathedral at 2 p.m. on Saturday?"
"That's correct." Nick looked up at Carter who was grinning.
"The entire wedding?"
"Sure. You can even include the cost of the honeymoon, if you'd like."
The man was quiet for a moment.
"Mr. Van Klein? Are you still there?"
The man coughed and then cleared his throat. "Yes, Mr. Williams, I am. I must apologize. I didn't believe my wife at first."
"Well, it's an honest offer. I can bring you a certified check, if you'd like."
"I see..."
Carter put his hand over the receiver and whispered, "Offer to throw in the cost of the trousseau."
"What?"
"Just do it." He removed his hand.
"Mr. Van Klein?"
"Yes?"
"I'll also cover the cost of the trousseau."
Nick heard a big sigh at the other end of the phone. Then: "Mr. Williams?"
"Yeah?"
"Why in the world are you doing this?"
"Because invitations already went out for my father's wedding at 2 on Saturday at Grace Cathedral and, while we could call everyone, it would just be easier—"
"Of course."
"Also, my stepmother-to-be has her heart set on walking down the aisle there."
He sighed. "So does my daughter."
With that, Nick remembered what he and Marnie had talked about in the car. Her mother would be just fine, even if she got married in the park. He suddenly wondered if maybe he shouldn't just tell the man to keep his daughter's wedding at the cathedral.
Before Nick could make up his mind, Mr. Van Klein said, "I've already checked." He sounded like he was talking to himself. "The original venue is still available." More quietly, he added, "She told me she'd be fine with either place. It's really her mother..."
Nick had a sudden inspiration. "Where are they going for their honeymoon?"
"Hawaii."
"What about Paris? April in Paris?"
Carter kicked Nick. He looked up. Carter mouthed, "The Lumberjack."
Nodding, Nick said, "And they can fly over using our Lockheed Super Constellation. Just the two of them."
"Oh, that's right. You own a Super Connie."
"Yes, sir."
The man sighed again.
For whatever reason, Nick added, "We bought it from Howard Hughes."
"You did?" That piqued the man's interest. "What was it like?"
"Clean. Very clean," replied Nick with a grin up to Carter.
The man suddenly guffawed. "I can only imagine. OK, Mr. Williams, we have a deal. My office is in the Shell Building. Fifteenth floor."
"I'll have someone bring a check over within the hour."
"Thank you."
"No, sir, thank you."
Carter rubbed his fingers together, making the sign for money. Nick nodded and quickly asked, "How much?"
"Let's say twenty thousand, even. And you pay for the plane. I'll call Dennis, my daughter's fiancé, and tell him about the change in plans for the honeymoon."
Twenty grand was a steal, as far as Nick was concerned. "How about I have my guy bring a second certified check for five thousand payable to Dennis?"
"I'd say that was more than generous." The man sounded relieved. "His name is Dennis Irvin."
"Will you call the cathedral?"
"Of course. As soon as I have the check."
Nick laughed. "Pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Van Klein."
"And with you, Mr. Williams. Good day."
Nick put the receiver back on its cradle. As soon as he did, Carter put his big hands around his face and pulled him in for a very long and very satisfying ham-flavored kiss.
. . .
Nick had just sent Andy Anderson, one of their operatives, over to Bank of America to pick up the two checks and take them to the Shell Building. He would have sent Robert, but he'd called from a payphone to inform Nick that he and Henry were going to the flower market for a "look-see."
Nick looked at his watch. It was half past 1. Marnie was still not back from lunch. She'd been gone for longer than normal. Nick wondered if maybe she'd gone home to talk to her mother. Given that she didn't know about the cathedral, it was highly unlikely.
He was about to call over there when he heard the door to the outer office open. Looking up, he saw that it was Sam who was grinning.
"Come in, ladies."
He stood by the door and ushered them in.
Nick immediately recognized Tammy. She was wearing a flattering red wig that perfectly matched her green dress festooned with a strand of big, chunky white beads. A light brown knee-length wool coat completed her outfit. Holding a pocketbook in the crook of her arm, she crossed into Nick's inner office and offered her gloved hand.
Nick stood and made his way around his desk. With a big smile, he shook the gal's hand and said, "Nice to see you, Tammy."
"And you, Mr. Williams." Her speaking voice wasn't deep, but it was resonant. Like the Nightingale, she was able to sing operatically which was something Nick really enjoyed when she was performing.
"Call me Nick."
She smiled and then stepped to the side. "May I introduce my dear friend, LaDoris LaDay?"
Her gal pal was sporting a chestnut wig. Her navy dress was constructed in a way to show off her curves. She was wearing a gray alpaca coat with half sleeves. Offering a gloved hand, she said, "Mr. Williams?" Her voice was a little squeaky but not unpleasant.
"Miss LaDay. Nice to meet you. Please call me Nick."
She curtsied a little. "And you must call me LaDoris. Or Dorie, for short."
Nick smiled. "Thank you, Dorie." He looked at Tammy. "Thanks for taking care of this for us."
"Our pleasure."
Sam, who was standing behind the two gals said, "I told Tammy that you'd be able to front some of their fee for supplies."
Nick nodded and reached for his wallet. He pulled out the ten hundreds he'd set aside for just that purpose. "Here's the whole fee up front."
Like a professional, Tammy quickly took the cash and slipped it inside her pocketbook in a flash. "Thank you, Nick. That's very generous."
"My property manager, Robert, isn't here, but, when you get a chance, be sure to call him and he'll get you both set up in one of my buildings. I believe he said there's a two bedroom you might like."
Dorie put her hand over her mouth and giggled. "You're just so sweet."
"How are you set for rent right now?"
"Oh, we're fine," replied Tammy.
Dorie, however, was on the ball. "It's fifty-five for the two of us and we're a month behind."
Nick pulled out two more hundreds and handed them to Dorie. "Well, this should get you caught up."
Tammy's eyes flashed but she just smiled and said, "Thank you, Nick."
"My pleasure."
Dorie asked, "Now what kind of cake do you want?"
Nick pointed to the chairs in his office. "Do you want to have a seat?"
"Oh, no, honey," replied Dorie. "We need to get our butts in gear. Saturday is just around the corner."
Tammy appeared to be annoyed by her friend's way of speaking, but Nick liked it. He nodded. "Of course. The bride likes vanilla and she loves those kind of flowers that you make out of icing."
"Any particular kind?" asked Dorie.
"Roses, but you're the artist. How about we leave it up to you?"
Dories blushed a little at that as Tammy said, "I understand there's to be a hundred and fifty guests?"
"Yeah."
She looked over at Dorie. "How about our Coit Tower model?"
Her gal pal nodded. To Nick, she said, "It has a molded base that looks like rolling hills. I can sculpt a garden on that, if you'd like."
"Sounds perfect."
"And what about the groom's cake?" asked Tammy. She quickly added, "That's included in the fee, Nick."
He nodded. "A groom's cake?"
"Yes. I believe your father is the groom. Is that right?"
"Yeah."
"What's his favorite kind of cake?"
Nick was stumped. He really had no idea. He thought about calling his father, but he really wanted it to be a surprise. Then he had an idea. Looking over at Sam, he asked, "Could you go get Carter?"
Sam winked and nodded. "Be right back."
"Carter Jones?" asked Dorie a little too enthusiastically.
"Hush," said Tammy before saying to Nick, "Where do we bring the cake?"
"Oh," replied Nick. They'd never settled on a place for the reception. The easiest place would be the big pile of rocks where he'd grown up. But he wasn't sure it would hold a hundred and fifty people.
"Nick?"
He blinked a couple of times. "Yeah?"
"Do you need a location to hold the reception?"
He nodded.
"Well," said Tammy as she smoothed down the front of her dress, "I attended services at Grace Cathedral when I was..." She cleared her throat. "When I was younger."
"When you was a boy," said Dorie as she rolled her eyes.
Tammy turned and stared daggers for a moment before saying, "There's a dining hall in the Cathedral House that would definitely accommodate your guests."
"What's that?" asked Nick.
She frowned a little. "It's the building on Taylor where they have, among other things, luncheons and receptions and the like." Her frown deepened. "Didn't you grow up in that mansion at Sacramento and Taylor?"
Nick grinned. "Sure."
Dorie rolled her eyes again. "Don't you read the papers, missy? He went to St. Ignatius."
Tammy looked surprised for some read. "You're Catholic?"
"We're Episcopalian in a pinch. But I've only been inside the cathedral once since I've been an adult. And that was just last summer."
Tammy nodded somberly as Dorie silently crossed herself.
He was about to ask Tammy more about the dining hall when Carter suddenly walked in and said, "Hello, ladies."
Like moths to a flame, the two turned and openly admired at him. Nick could see Dorie batting her eyes. As he introduced himself and shook their hands, Nick had to grin. He really was the most handsome man in North America.
. . .
Carter grinned at Nick and winked as Dorie ran her hand up and down his bicep. "Mr. Jones, I've always wanted to meet you. You really are much more handsome than any of those photographs they print in the papers."
"Dorie, back off," hissed Tammy between clenched teeth.
"Well, it's nice to meet you, Dorie," said Carter as he stepped just a little to his left. That gave Dorie the chance to let go without looking as if she was doing what her friend had told her to do.
Carter had a long list of tricks he could use whenever anyone got too handsy. People, both women and men, had been like that ever since he had his final growth spurt back in his high school days. It was important not to be rude. It was usually just a matter of moving a little bit in one direction. That did the trick. Most of the time.
Nick cleared his throat and said, "Uh, Carter, Tammy was about to tell me something about the dining hall at the Cathedral House. We might be able to have the reception there."
Before Tammy could speak, Dorie said, "Oh, Miss Tammy knows all about the cathedral, don't you, dear?"
Ignoring her friend, Tammy said, "Well, Nick, I'm sure you could use the dining hall. It's quite nice, to be honest. And if it was covered in flowers, say, it could be a magical spot. What about a band?"
Nick looked over at Carter who shrugged. Of course, they needed a band. But who could they get on such short notice?
Looking a little blank, Nick said, "Oh, I guess that's something we need to add to the list."
Carter nodded. "Good idea."
"Well," said Tammy, pulling her purse close to her coat, "we need to do our marketing." She glared at her friend who was still making eyes with Carter. "Come along, Dorie."
Offering a gloved hand again, Dorie said, "So nice to make your acquaintance at long last, Mr. Jones."
Carter grinned and gently shook. "The pleasure is all mine."
Dorie giggled and then asked, "I don't suppose you could give a lift to the market, could you?"
From behind him, Carter heard Sam clear his throat. "I was planning on escorting the two of you around. We can get a cab down on Bush Street."
Tammy smiled. "That would be lovely, Sam. You're always such a gentleman." She then turned and offered her hand to Nick. "Thanks, again, for hiring us. I promise you won't be disappointed. It will be a cake you'll always remember." She offered her hand and Nick shook it.
. . .
Once they were gone, Nick looked up at Carter. "A band!"
Sitting down at Marnie's desk, Carter picked up the phone and began to dial a number. He looked at his watch and then muttered, "She should be home by now."
"Who?" asked Nick as walked over and stood over his husband.
Carter was about to reply when Nick heard a feminine voice say, "Hello?"
"Diane?" Carter held out the receiver a little so Nick could listen in. He leaned against the edge of Marnie's desk.
"Yes?"
"It's Carter."
"Hi, Carter! Are you calling about Mitzi's ball? I know I just threw it over the fence again. I've really got to watch what I'm doing. Pam definitely thinks so and was telling me that very thing just this morning over breakfast."
Carter chuckled. "No, Diane. I'm at the office. I was calling because I seem to remember that you know someone who leads a dance band."
"Oh! Not me, Carter. That's Mary, Evelyn's new girlfriend."
"Right," said Carter. "Do you think they might be available for a reception on Saturday afternoon?"
"I don't know. But I know that Mary is over at Evelyn's right now. I saw her car in the driveway when got home a few minutes ago. Should I go over and check? Maybe I can call you back?"
"That would be great, Diane. You have the number here?"
"Of course! It's the best number in the phone book! Prospect 7-7777."
. . .
"Where's Marnie?" asked Carter as he sat on the edge of Nick's desk and looked down at him.
"I have no idea, Chief. I was thinking about calling over at their house to see if she's there." He looked at his watch. "It's after 3. She's never been gone for lunch this long before."
"Maybe she's on wedding business."
Nick nodded. "Maybe."
"Have you confirmed with the cathedral yet?"
"No, but I did hear from Mr. Van Klein that he got the checks and that he would call them. They're supposed to call over here whenever he lets them know."
Right then, the door opened, and Mike Robertson walked in. He was Nick's first lover, one of his best friends, and the man who really ran Consolidated Security. "What's this I hear about your old man's wedding being back on?"
Nick grinned up at Mike who, by then, was hovering over Nick's desk. He was an inch taller than Carter with jet black hair and ice blue eyes. "That's right. And it's all coming together."
"Do you need any help?"
Nick blinked. "Ushers, I guess."
Carter stood and turned to look at Mike. "And security. To keep out the riff-raff."
Mike grinned at that as Nick sat up in his chair. "Actually, to be honest, Mike, I think what we really need are waiters." He looked over at Carter. "Who's going to serve lasagna to everyone?"
"Is that what's on the menu?" asked Mike.
"Yeah," replied Nick. "And crusty bread and red wine from up north. Sam's arranging that."
Mike crossed his arms. "Sounds like something the mob might be involved in."
Nick laughed. "The San Francisco mob? All ten of them?"
"They may be small in number, but I don't like gangsters."
Carter shook his head and put his hands in his pockets. "Maybe we should ask Sam about who's making the food before we go ahead and assume that just because it's Eye-talian, that the mob is involved."
"It's because Sam is involved that I assume there's a mob connection," retorted Mike. "You know he knows all of 'em, right?"
"Sure," said Nick. "But let's don't worry about that right now." He grinned at a disapproving Mike. "We have a wedding to plan. What about waiters?"
"For lasagna and bread? Why not serve it buffet style?"
"Nick's father has invited some bigwigs and—"
"Not Rob-Rob, I hope," said Mike. "Rob-Rob" was the common nickname for Mayor Elmer Robinson.
"Dr. Williams doesn't like the mayor any more than we do, so I doubt it." Carter pulled his hands out of his pockets and then crossed his arms. He looked down at Nick. "That's not going to be enough food."
The phone rang right then. Nick reached over and picked up the receiver. "Yeah?"
"Hi, Nick! This is Mary. Remember me? I'm going with Evelyn."
"Sure. How are you?"
"Oh, fine. Diane's here with me. She says you need a band for Saturday afternoon for a wedding reception."
"We sure do. Do you know someone who could do the job?"
"I do. They're called the Starlighters and they're really terrific."
"Great! Could you arrange for them to be at the dining hall at the Cathedral House next to Grace Cathedral at around half past 1 on Saturday? Or whenever they need to show up to set up. The wedding is at 2 and the reception will probably start around 2:30."
"That shouldn't be a problem. I just talked to Gracie. She's the bandleader. Turns out they're free."
"Gracie?" Nick had never heard of a lady bandleader before.
"Sure. Didn't Diane tell you? The Starlighters are an all-gal band. They wear tuxedos and everything. Really sharp gals." She paused. "All gay gals, of course."
Nick wondered what his father would think of that, but he loved the idea, personally. "That's great. We'll double their usual fee and you know how I feel about tips."
Mary laughed. "Oh, I know. And so does Gracie. I'll admit she squealed when I told her who was interested."
"Well, tell Diane thanks for arranging this for us."
"Sure." Nick heard Diane saying something in the background. "Hold on. She wants to speak with you."
The next thing he heard was Diane saying, "Nick?"
"Hi, Diane. How are you?"
"Oh, just fine. I'm so thrilled this will work out! You're just gonna love The Starlighters. They're marvelous. Always in perfect rhythm and they play so beautifully."
"Well, thanks, again." Diane was a nice gal, and all, but she could go on and on.
"Nick?"
"Yeah?"
"How are you set for food for the reception?"
He glanced up at Carter who was watching him closely. "Why do you ask?"
"Well, Mary and I were talking before she called and she thought that, maybe, you might want to hire us to do your catering. That is if you don't have someone already in mind. I figured you might be in need of someone since this is all very last minute. One of the teachers at the school told me how Mrs. Wilson was having cold feet and I thought the whole thing was cancelled. I'm glad it isn't, because I think she and your father make a wonderful couple. They just seem made for each other, you know what I mean?"
Nick laughed. "I do and I agree. Now, about this idea of catering..."
. . .
By the time Marnie finally arrived, Nick, Carter, and Mike had most everything arranged.
Nick had confirmed with the cathedral that the bishop would be marrying his father and Marnie's mother at 2 on Saturday. He'd also rented the dining hall for the reception.
Mike had lined up the rest of the guys to work as ushers during the ceremony and then as waiters during the reception. All at double pay with a big tip, of course.
Sam had called in to ask about the groom's cake (they'd forgotten all about that earlier). Carter had informed them that it should be a red velvet with a vanilla icing, something Nick had known but hadn't thought about in years.
Sam had also said the mob wasn't involved with the lasagna. It was some old lady he knew who lived on Mission and whose son owned a restaurant in the Excelsior District. Mike was mostly satisfied with that answer.
Sam had also said she was going to throw in a whole bunch of appetizers, as well as side dishes. That was in addition to the appetizers Diane and Mary were going to make (which included Diane's fabulous deviled eggs).
Carter and Mike had just left to go take care of some work when Marnie walked in looking slightly disheveled and very embarrassed. "Oh, Nick!" she said as she hung up her coat and began to fiddle with her hair.
"Where've you been, doll? We were getting worried."
She looked at him for a moment, as if she was trying to decide what to tell him. Finally, she walked over to the outer office door and locked it.
"Must be important," said Nick with a grin.
She nodded. "It is."
"Well, come sit down and tell me about it."
Looking more and more apprehensive, she took a seat across from him and said, "Since we're almost brother and sister, you have to promise me you won't tell anyone."
"Not anyone?"
"Well, you can tell Carter. I know he'll keep the secret." She leaned forward. "Not anyone. Not Mother. Not your father. Not anyone."
Nick nodded. "My lips are sealed. Now, tell me all about it."
She scooted her chair a little closer and then whispered, "I'm in love."
Nick's eyes widened in complete surprise. "You are?"
She frowned. "Don't act so surprised. I don't want to die an old maid."
Smiling, Nick stood and walked around the desk. He pulled the other chair next to Marnie and had a seat. "Who is it?"
She looked around, as if she was expecting her mother to pop up out of nowhere. "You know him."
Nick blinked. "I do?"
She nodded. "You went to St. Ignatius together."
"Who is it?"
"Alex LeBeau."
"Alex LeBeau? I thought he moved to L.A. or someplace like that?"
She shook her head and excitedly said, "No. He works down on Grant near Post and he's been here since he got back from the war." She sighed. "He's so handsome."
"Is he still tall and lanky?"
Marnie giggled. "I knew you were going to ask me that." She patted his knee. "And, yes, he is. I saw your yearbook. He's much more handsome now than he was back then."
Nick crossed his arms. "I assume you saw the '38 edition. I wasn't in the '39 one, I don't think."
"Sure you were. You looked just as handsome as you do now." She frowned. "Alex said he thought you didn't like St. Ignatius."
"I didn't." He had no desire to talk about the old days. He didn't want to say anything unpleasant about Alex. They were never friends and Nick didn't like him. And he thought the feeling was mutual. To change the subject, he asked, "How'd you meet?"
"Well," said Marnie, breathlessly. "His mother introduced us. She works at City of Paris. His parents are French and they both work there, and his mother saw me in the store when Mother and I were going in and out looking for dresses. She stopped me one day when I went in on my own and introduced me to Alex who was eating lunch in that cute little alley they have in the basement."
Nick nodded. "Was it love at first sight?"
"Well, I guess. That was about three weeks ago. We've been meeting for lunch as much as we can. You're the first person I've told. Not even his mother knows we've been going together." She hugged herself. "Oh, Nick! I'd forgotten how this felt. I'm really and truly in love and he's such a great guy."
Nick was about to ask for more details when someone tried to open the door but couldn't. "Marnie?" asked a male voice out in the hallway. It was Robert.
. . .
"Well, I found all sorts of flowers. This is a great time for them, being April and all." Robert beamed at both of us for a moment. His expression soured a little bit. "What? Did something bad happen while I was gone?"
Marnie liked Robert well enough. He was a nice guy and as loyal to Nick as she was. But there were times when she wished he had his own office somewhere else in the building. Marnie missed the old days when it was just the two of them—back when Nick was just a private eye and not the head of a growing company.
"No," replied Nick with a slight grin. "In fact, the wedding is on." He glanced at Marnie and said, "We were just talking about something else when you got here. That's all."
Marnie jumped in before Nick could spill her beans. "I just got back, myself, Robert." Looking at Nick, she asked, "What's the latest? I need to call Mother and let her know." She then quickly added, "And you should call your father, as well."
Nick began to bring them both up to speed. And, truth be told, Marnie breathed a sigh of relief when she realized Nick was going to be true to his word and not say a thing about Alex.