Alex in Wonderland (The Wonderland Series Book 1) (23 page)

39

Camilla, the Hun

The two months since Alex came out
to his mother passed without incident. Karen had been enchanted by Jackie and
Denise and returned the favor by courting and winning over Tante Monette when
she and Alex visited France.
Karen’s old style Southern charm, delivered in flawless Parisian French, proved
irresistible to the dotty old lady, as did her handsome, considerate son who
lavished almost as much attention on her as he did on Jackie. Carefully coached
by Jolie, Alex’s performance as devoted, smitten suitor was so convincing
Denise privately joked that she was getting jealous. The Sumners not only
secured Aunt Monette’s blessing but also her unexpected decision to hold the
wedding in New Orleans.

“A city I’ve always wanted to
visit,” the old lady revealed.
“Along with
Saigon
and
Algiers
of
course.”

“Poor Tante Monette
forgets we French no longer have an empire,” Jackie explained later.
 

"I envy anybody's
ability to blank out reality," Alex said with a smile. "And I'll tell
you something else. I can't help liking the old dear. Despite her lapses, she
seems to know what’s best for her niece.”

 
“And thanks to a little fairy dust, her wishes
will come true.” Jolie lofted his glass of Lillet. "Ours too of
course."

In August, the engagement
was announced in the
Times-Picayune
alongside a stunning portrait
photo of Jackie. Wanting to give the Garden District and Camilla a noble bone
to gnaw on, Jolie overrode Jackie’s decision not to include her title so
everyone would know Alex Sumner was to wed a French countess on October 11. To
please her future mother-in-law and be appropriately feted, Jackie planned to
arrive two weeks early but insisted on a small chapel service restricted to
family and close friends. Along with Denise and Tante Monette, she took suites
at the Maison de Ville, a chic French Quarter hostelry known for insulating
celebrity guests like Tennessee Williams and Elizabeth Taylor. As Jolie hoped,
the French-obsessed Old Guard buzzed with the news, and parties honoring
Mademoiselle Jacqueline Bertier
, la Comtesse de Baudouin
, became the
hottest tickets in town. Even the French Ambassador got in on the act with a
reception in the couple’s honor. Alex was thrilled but hardly surprised when
Jackie’s beauty, grace and Old World manners won over
everyone.

Except Camilla
and Randolph Sumner of course.

Since the public was still in the
dark about why Alex’s father had called off the Sumner-Spivey nuptials, Camilla
garnered all the sympathy as a bride jilted at the altar. Speculation naturally
ran wild, but the truth remained a well-guarded secret until the damning photos
surfaced on the Internet. According to Jolie, Camilla & Company rivaled
Paris Hilton in the porno popularity polls, and suddenly Camilla was
persona
non grata
above

“How did this happen?” Alex asked
Jolie. “God knows Cletis and Dooley don’t know how to operate a computer!”

“The Cyber Age is as enigmatic as
deep space,
mon ami
,” Jolie replied.
"'Nuff said." Alex didn't know if Jolie was the guilty party or not,
but he had never seen the man so close mouthed.

Sumner was as low-key as Camilla, a
major surprise considering his very vocal Francophobia. As expected, he blew
his top when Alex told him about Jackie, but his threats were defused when Alex
calmly renounced his inheritance. Insult was heaped on injury when Alex added,
“Jackie’s even richer than you!” It was a lie but it stunned Sumner into an ongoing
silence. He wasn’t boorish enough to refuse to meet Jackie, but his icy reserve
paled in comparison to her imperious indifference. Alex and Karen were
delighted when Sumner more than met his match, but his quiet retreat made Alex
uneasy.

“I don’t trust him when he’s like
this," he confided. "I’ve watched him in board meetings, and when he
shuts up it means he’s looking for a weak spot and waiting to pounce. You know
how he can be.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Karen said,
basking in her newfound confidence. “This is one time when your father’s not
going to get his way.”

“How can you be so sure, Mom?”

“Trust me, sweetie pie,” she said,
patting him on the cheek.

With both Jolie and his mother
acting so mysterious, Alex felt like his wedding was the setting for a whodunit
party. He ignored his misgivings by devoting himself to entertaining Jackie,
Denise and Aunt Monette, and indeed everything went smoothly until he and Karen
made the mistake of taking them to lunch at Galatoire’s. They had barely been seated
when Alex saw his mother go pale.

“Mom, what is it?” He grabbed her
hand. “Are you feeling faint?”

“In the corner. Heading this way—”

“What?”

Karen took a deep breath, working
hard to maintain her composure. Luckily, the three Frenchwomen were immersed in
their menus and didn’t see the panic in her eyes. “Camilla!” she hissed.

Jackie was not so engrossed that
she didn’t hear a name she knew was cause for alarm. As their friendships
deepened, Jolie and Alex had shared the details of Camilla’s sexual peccadilloes
and the fishing camp caper, a story Jackie and Denise found hilarious and
thoroughly justified. Given Camilla’s background, Jackie also knew this was
someone to be reckoned with, but she pretended to concentrate on the menu.

Forks paused in mid-air and
conversations ceased as Camilla approached Alex’s table.
 
Although not everyone had the dirty Internet
details, Galatoire’s regular patrons all knew about the disastrous
Sumner/Spivey wedding. Camilla’s face was an unreadable mask until she caught
Alex’s eye and dazzled him with a smile he knew meant utter insincerity. He
also knew she was out for blood and girded for battle as she approached his
table.

“Darling Alex!” she said, offering
her cheek for a kiss.

He rose and picked up the gauntlet.
“Hello, Camilla.”

“Long time, no see,” she said
airily. “What’s new?”

As if you didn’t know, Alex
thought. “I’m getting married next week.”

“Oh, that’s right. I remember
hearing something about that.” She scanned the table, dismissing Karen with a
curt nod, ignoring Jackie and Denise and looking right at Monette. “This must
be the lucky girl!” She thrust a hand in the old woman’s face. “I’m Camilla
Spivey, Alex’s ex-fiancée.”

“Eh?” Aunt Monette ignored her hand
and muttered something in French.

Alex was seething. “Save it,
Camilla. She doesn’t speak a word of English.”

“How silly of me!” Camilla said
with a feigned giggle.

“Indeed it was,” Jackie said
smoothly. She set aside her menu but did not extend her hand as she carefully
enunciated her words. “I’m Jacqueline Bertier, Alexander’s
new
fiancée.”

 
“Oh, of course. Why, your pictures don’t do
you justice, but newspaper photos never do, do they? Now let’s see. You’re a
duchess or something, right?”

“Or something,” Jackie replied.

“Forgive my ignorance,” Camilla
said, smile stretched much too thin. “We don’t have titles in America.”

“Or manners apparently,” Jackie
observed with almost tangible condescension. Before Camilla could continue, she
said, “Have you come here to insult me, mademoiselle?”

So it’s out in the open, Alex
thought. He took a step back and crossed arms over his chest. Well, then. Let
the games begin.

“Actually I just came over to warn
you, honey. He left me at the altar, or did he not tell you?”

“He told me.” Jackie paused before
delivering the next word with deadly aplomb. “Everything."

Camilla tried to ignore the
implication with a coquettish giggle that fell flat. “Why, Alex, darling! I
never knew you were one to kiss and tell.”

“He isn’t,” Jackie. “But the
Internet is. We have it in France
too, you know.”

Camilla blanched. Alex cleared his
throat. Karen covered her smile with a napkin. Denise stared. Tante Monette
said, “Eh?”

“I’m…I’m sure I don’t know what you
mean,” Camilla stammered.

“Oh, I think you do,” Jackie said,
closing in for the kill. “I agree that newspaper photos are poor, but Internet
pictures can be remarkably clear. Alexander never mentioned you were such a
gymnast, my dear.”
 

Camilla dropped her voice to a
whisper. “Fuck you!”

“Très charmant,”
Jackie
purred.

Alex winced as Camilla
grabbed his forearm and dragged him toward the front door, leaving a wake of
gapes and gasps. She didn’t let go until they reached the sidewalk. There, in
broad daylight, on

“Alright,
you low-life sonovabitch!
It’s time you told the truth. You’re behind
those photographs, aren’t you?”

He wasn't confessing to
anything. “Your imagination is working overtime, Camilla.”

“Lying bastard!”

“You’re a fine one to
talk about lies. How do you think I felt when I saw those photos? You made me
the biggest cuckold in town!”

As he expected, she
shrugged off the accusation. “I looked at those pictures carefully and some
were shot through the window. Those two bastards had an accomplice, and I think
it was you!”

Alex kept his cool,
deciding she was only grasping at straws. He started to claim that he didn’t
even know where her father’s fishing camp was, that he didn’t own a camcorder
much less know how
to use one. He plumbed for a whole string of alibis before realizing they would
only complicate
things. Instead he put the ball back in her court by demanding a motive.

“Why would I do such a
thing to my fiancée?”

“So you could marry Miss
Deluxe French Dressing in there!” she snarled.

“Get real, Camilla. I
didn’t even meet her until after Daddy called off the marriage. None of what
you’re saying makes sense!”

Camilla retreated only
slightly before launching a counter attack. “Well, maybe you didn’t have
anything to do with those fucking pictures, but I’m sure as shit going to find
out who did. Dooley and Cletis are nothing but a couple of low-lifes, and if I
dangle some money in their greedy little faces they’re bound to talk.”

Alex had heard enough.
“I’m going back inside.”

Camilla grabbed him
again. “It’s not over, Alex. Not by a long shot! Think about that when your
priest asks the fatal question to the congregation and keep thinking about it
when you hear my voice.”

“You’re crazy, Camilla.
There’s nothing you could possibly say to—”

“Don’t be so sure!” Her
grip tightened. “I warned you, Alex. I told you if you ever called off our
wedding you’d regret it for the rest of your life, and I meant every word I
said, you asshole!”

Alex felt sick to his
stomach. The combination of Camilla’s wild accusations and the noxious heat of

He wrenched free and left
her on the steaming sidewalk, praying she wouldn’t follow him back into
Galatoire’s with more invective. He paused in the cool foyer to regain his
composure and wait for his racing heart to slow. His wet armpits threatened to
stain his light silk suit, and his forehead gleamed with sweat as he rehashed
the hideous exchange and tried to make sense of what Camilla meant. Did she
really know something or was she bluffing? Could she possibly have found out he
was gay or was he just being paranoid? What made her suspect he was the accomplice
outside the window? All this and more tumbled in his fevered brain, until two
names floated free and terrified him all over again. Cletis and Dooley. There
was no doubt Camilla could bribe those two-bit hustlers to reveal his presence
at Thirteen Oaks, and once she had the facts—

“Damn!” Alex drew a
handkerchief across his damp forehead before retrieving his cell phone and
tapping it with a fury. “You got me into this mess, Jolie, and you’re sure as
hell gonna have to get me out!”

40

Goin' To
The
Chapel

The morning of the wedding dawned
sunny and cool with the sort of azure Louisiana
skies poets and painters rhapsodize over. Such crystalline majesty, however,
was lost on Alex as he paced the parking lot behind St. Michael’s Chapel,
alternately glaring at his watch and silent cell phone. It was almost
four o’clock
, and since Jolie had promised to
call over an hour ago, Alex grew more anxious by the second. Camilla’s vicious
threats still dogged him, and although Jolie had promised to handle the
situation he remained maddeningly vague about when, where and how. On top of
that, he was a no-show with the service scheduled to start in ten minutes.

“God!”
Alex almost jumped out of his skin when the phone beeped and J. MENARD popped
up on caller ID. He yelled into the phone. “Where the hell are you?”

“Agent Double-Oh-Seven-Up-Yours
checking in,” Jolie answered in a voice light as air. “And I’ve got a big
newsflash from Mexico.”

“Cut the comedy, Jolie!
I’m a nervous wreck!”

“This is no comedy,
bébé.
It’s the real deal and will
definitely cheer you up.”

“Talk fast!”

“Well, it took me forever to find
those slippery little swamp rats, Cletis and Dooley. It seems they’ve
temporarily taken up with some lonely trailer trash housewife across the river
in Gretna, shudder, and—”

Alex felt like his brain was
unraveling. “For God's sake, Jolie! Get to the damned point!”

“Alright, already. The shorthand
version is that Cletis and Dooley are, even as we speak, lazing on a beach in Cancun.”

“
Cancun
?!”

“Si, senor.
 
I figured that was a cheap and cheerful place
to stash them until after today’s big event. You know. Keep them out of
Camilla’s diabolical clutches and all that. Just think of it as an early
wedding present from little old
moi
.”

“Thanks, but where the hell’s
Camilla?”

“Calm down. I was getting to that.”

“Jolie!”

“Well, Camilla’s a much stickier
wicket I’m afraid, and it’s better that you don’t know any details until after
it’s over.”

With pre-wedding jitters
pushing his nerves to the max. Alex’s temper flared. “I’m not a child!”

“I’m well aware of that,
mon
ami,
but in case things fall apart, you can talk to the police with a clear
conscience.”

“The police?!”

“Isn’t kidnapping is a federal
offense or something?”

“
Kidnapping?!
”

Jolie was as cool as ever. “Take a
chill pill. It’s not exactly kidnapping. It’s sort of…mmmm, borrowing someone’s
time.”

“Dear Lord!”

“Now, I know you think that’s
extreme,
bébé,
but so was what we did
at the fishing camp. It’s also like when you ran away from home. You remember.
D
rastic predicaments and all"

“I’m sweating bullets,” Alex
moaned.

“You are?! How about me? If you
only knew what I’ve been doing this past…hey! What the hell are you doing?!”

Alex was further frustrated by muffled
voices and the sounds of a scuffle. “What’s going on? Where are you?” He heard
a loud crash. “Jolie!”

“Hate to miss the wedding, darling,
but I really must dash! I’ll try to make the reception. Promise!”

“But—?”

“A bientôt!”

Beep. Silence. “Damn!”

The cell phone was Alex’s last hope
for salvation, and when it went dead he was sustained only by a very rickety
blind faith. Please God, he prayed. Help Jolie pull off another miracle. He
tried to calm down by reminding himself it wouldn't be the first time. Since
their fateful Twelfth Night meeting, there seemed to be no end to the actions
and reactions Jolie could facilitate. Thanks to him, Alex had finally addressed
being gay, run away from home, tasted first love, broken one engagement and
made another. On top of that were those CNN bulletins, kidnapping allegations,
blackmail, duplicity, deceit, subterfuge and some plain old-fashioned lunacy,
not to mention that in just a few minutes he, a gay man, would be marrying
French lesbian he barely knew. The scenario was easily enough for a half dozen
soap operas, and if Alex hadn’t been petrified Camilla was going to sabotage
this latest chapter of
Alex In Wonderland
, he would’ve laughed at the
absurdity of it all. He felt trapped, like he was tumbling down the rabbit hole
again, and was hungrily eyeing the Lamborghini when his father came out of the
chapel.

“It’s time.”

“Okay, Daddy.”

Sumner gave him a long look. “Son,
you look like you’re about to face a firing squad.”

His hollow chuckle was sickening
because Alex guessed what was coming next. “It’s not too late to call it off.
I’ll even make the announcement if you like."

“For God’s sake!” Alex said,
fighting the temptation to tell his father to go fuck himself. “Once was
enough.”

“You sure?”

“It’s just wedding day jitters,”
Alex lied. “I’ll be fine once I get to the altar and see Jackie.”

“Suit yourself.”

Sumner grunted and headed back
inside, mood as sour as the day he learned about Jackie. Alex ignored him and
sought comfort in his mother’s promise that this was one time his father
wouldn’t get his way. As he followed Sumner into the chapel and took his place
on the altar, Alex’s lips moved in a silent prayer that this was true. The last
thing he needed was another barrier to the wedding.

To his delight and relief, Alex’s
off-hand remark to his father proved true. The moment he saw Jackie floating
down the aisle like Glinda in
The Wizard of Oz
, his spirits soared and
he beamed like the proud groom he was supposed to be. Behind her veil of
illusion, Jackie glowed too and turned as she passed Denise to whisper the most
discreet kiss imaginable. Karen was just as thrilled, but tears washed away her
efforts to smile as Jackie took Alex’s arm and the two faced the altar. Sumner
remained the picture of utter gloom.

“Dearly beloved,” Father Dennis
began. “We are gathered here today to—”

 
Alex heard nothing else until the priest asked
if anyone had reason to oppose the union. In the silence that followed, a dull roar hurt his head as
he waited for Camilla to burst in and protest. When nothing happened, he again
lost himself in the moment and blissfully drifted until he and Jackie were
pronounced man and wife. The kiss was brief but genuinely affectionate, and
Alex chuckled when his bride of five seconds gave him a big wink before kissing
him a second time.

“You go, girl!” she whispered.

For Alex, that said it all.

An hour later, he and
Jackie were in a receiving line at the Pavilion of Two Sisters in City
Park. Alex’s elation was real, but
he was plagued by lingering fear that Camilla might still make an unwelcome
appearance. His eyes continually darted along the long line of well-wishers as
he searched in vain for Jolie. After that bizarre phone call, he couldn’t help
worrying something had happened. It just wasn’t like Jolie to pull a
disappearing act during such a momentous event, especially with so much at
stake. Maybe his scheme had gone awry and Camilla had him arrested on
kidnapping charges. Or maybe Camilla was heading for City
Park at this very moment to open
her
Pandora’s box
of bad news. Maybe Jolie was even
hurt.
Maybe, maybe, maybe.

Alex’s imagination was
racing into overdrive when the line thinned at last and a familiar voice rose
above a haunting Handel largo, reminding everyone that a chamber music
orchestra lurked behind the potted palms. In spite of his anxieties, Alex
grinned as a welcome figure raced across the marble floor, arms outstretched.
 

“Ma chers!”

Angelique Poché was a
stunner in vintage black Chanel complete with antique pearls and matching
turban. She kissed Jackie and Alex on both cheeks, all the while gesturing dramatically
and babbling in an unbroken stream of French. Jackie hung on her every word, smiling
and squeezing Alex’s arm as Angelique continued to unfold her incredible tale.
Alex’s French was minimal at best, but he managed to catch “Jolie,” “Camilla,”
les
gendarmes
and
le Bastille.

“In English!” he hissed.

Angelique clutched her
breast. “I’m so sorry, Alex. I just got caught up in the excitement of the
moment, and so will you when I tell you what’s happened.”

“Where’s Jolie? Is he
alright?”

“He’s fine and he’s on
his way.” She rolled her eyes. “Unfortunately I can’t say the same for my gal
pal Camilla.”

“Where is she?”

 
Angelique leaned close to whisper, then
reconsidered. “What the hell? The whole town’s going to know before sundown. I
may as well get the credit for the social scoop of the season.” She leaned
back, fired up a cigarette, exhaled a stream of smoke and announced to everyone
within hearing range. “Camilla’s down at Central Lock-Up.”

“What?!” Alex gasped.

“Yes, indeedy,” Angelique
cackled, obviously relishing this part most of all. “She’s in the drunk tank,
honey, and believe me she ain’t proud to be there!”