Two young college-aged gals wearing light-up reindeer antlers swayed their hips on stage to an off-tune version of “Santa, Baby.” Gone were the days when Sophie attended karaoke night at Griswold’s and got on stage to perform with such fanfare, especially the week before Christmas, where a holiday theme ensured some unusual performances.
Sophie and her small posse had all decided to wear red shirts and holiday-themed earnings tonight. Bernadette leaned across the rustic wood tabletop and her candy cane earrings wobbled. “I wish Meg could’ve come. I’d buy her a drink for what she uncovered from Mr. Wilson. Can you confirm his story? I mean, he’s such a gossip.”
Veronica lifted her wineglass toward her lips but stopped short of drinking. “Give the dude a bell and he’d be our town crier.”
“You got that right.” Sophie glanced over her shoulder as their waitress dropped a platter of nachos in the center of the old pine table. As soon as she disappeared, Sophie leaned in. “Cliff’s going to ask some friends. See if anybody’s heard the same rumor.”
Bernadette brushed aside her long bangs. “Does this change anything between you and your new special friend?”
“What special friend?”
“Really?” She tilted her head. “Look me straight in the eye and tell me Duncan didn’t come one step away from charming the pants off you Sunday at church. Probably only stopped because we were in a sacred religious structure.”
“Wow, that statement bothers me on so many levels.”
Veronica snagged a nacho. “That’s it. St. Mary’s has lost my patronage. I’m coming to your church.”
Sophie chuckled but Bernadette’s stare demanded an answer. “Well?”
“Yes, he charmed me. However, he gives me an equal number of reasons to keep my pants on. At the hearing, for example—” Determined footsteps clunked on the old wood floors of the hundred-year-old building and stopped her from telling Marion’s reaction to Duncan in the hallway at this past week’s meeting.
Arch-rival Lucy’s BFF, Teresa Barnes, pranced within inches of their table, squeezed into tight black jeans and a bright red semi see-through blouse which picked up the crimson highlights in her auburn hair. Her perky nose held high, she breezed by their group in silence.
“What a bitch.” Veronica’s “stage whisper” came out louder than expected and she covered her mouth. “She could say hello.”
Teresa disappeared inside the ladies’ room.
Bernadette shook her head. “Just like she used to snub us in high school. I’d always hoped this petty stuff would disappear when we grew up.” She waved a hand. “Forget her. Finish your story.”
The idea of full disclosure about Duncan’s problems, even to her best buddies, suddenly bordered on gossip as she recalled Marion’s tears. “Not much else to tell, but this is sure amounting into something.”
“Something real.” Veronica tucked one side of her short hair behind her ear, exposing wreath earrings that didn’t match at all with her pearl necklace. “Versus the days the Northbridge Nancys imagined problems?”
Bernadette sipped her wine while nodding. “Hey, it helped pass summer vacation.” She looked at Sophie. “What else have you found?”
“Just the note left at my office suggesting the Jamiesons couldn’t be trusted. I’d say it relates directly to the incident at Buzz’s house. Especially after what Meg found out.”
“Makes sense. You wouldn’t trust a briber, right?” Veronica raised her brows. “How’d they keep something that scandalous under wraps in this town?”
Bernadette drummed her chin with her fingertips. “Because major bucks were involved. Frank Jamieson is loaded. His law firm is huge…like international huge.”
“How does this all fit together?” Sophie glanced back and forth between her two friends. “Why the bribery rumors? Why on earth would Joe vote against Buzz?”
Bernadette’s gaze shifted behind Sophie. “Watch this.” Bernadette’s chin lifted and her full cheeks puffed as she launched a Dentyne-gum smile at Teresa.
Teresa continued on her way past their table.
“Hi, Teresa.” Bernadette yelled, loud enough for a few other heads to turn.
Teresa’s perfectly-plucked brows arched in unison. “Hello, ladies. Enjoy the karaoke.”
“You, too,” they all chimed.
“Wonder where Lucy is tonight.” Sophie seethed, remembering the church kitchen, and how she swooped in and swiped Duncan from her grip. “I thought they traveled in a pair.”
“Like us.” Bernadette cracked a grin.
“Sort of. But we’re nicer.”
“Speaking of Lucy…” Veronica’s words trailed.
Sophie reached for a nacho but stopped an inch from the plate and followed Veronica’s gaze. Lucy sashayed to Teresa’s table, Duncan in tow. While Teresa introduced Duncan to another couple, Lucy brushed against his arm, close, the way an animal staked their territory. She’d dressed to kill in a short denim skirt, knee high black stiletto-heeled boots, and a tight T-shirt that read “What Happens Under the Mistletoe, Stays Under the Mistletoe.”
Duncan shook hands with the others. Dressed in his pressed khakis and a light pink and white striped oxford, he was approachable, gorgeous, and desirable. Sophie squirmed in her seat. Yes, they made a lovely couple.
Sophie’s hunger disappeared, both for the nacho and Duncan. A lump settled in her throat, one she hoped nobody noticed but felt so large she was certain everyone did. She’d been an idiot. The truth bruised. Duncan viewed her only as a reporter.
In a hushed voice, Bernadette said, “What a phony bastard. He was all—”
Sophie rested her hand on Bernadette’s arm. “At least we know. I won’t have to endure the embarrassment of what that lying lawyer did to me.”
Rage swelled, replacing the ache in her chest. She’d been a passive participant in the fight for her land up until now. One card she hadn’t played always seemed wrong: telling Duncan about Henry’s death on the land he wanted. Maybe the time had come to put the card in play.
From across the room she studied the man who kept stealing little pieces of her soul. He laughed at something Lucy said to the entire table. The lump in her throat forced itself down and crushed her heart.
She wanted Duncan to feel like a schmuck and knew exactly what she needed to do.