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Authors: Diane Vallere

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BOOK: Silk Stalkings
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Ebony stiffened. Ivory bared his teeth and growled at Blitz. I moved my eyes back and forth between Ebony and Blitz,
gauging the number from one to ten that would best correspond with Ebony's reaction. I didn't know who this guy was, but I didn't like what he was implying about her past.

“We haven't met yet,” I said. I stepped forward and held out my hand. “I'm Margo Tamblyn.”

“Blitz Manners,” he replied. He clamped his hand onto mine pretty hard, squishing my fingertips together. I squeezed back a second too late to block the pain, but soon enough to make it look like everything was fine.

“If I understand the situation correctly, you were planning to have a party at Roman Gardens but they're no longer available because of a flood in their kitchen. You'd like Ebony to put together a new party plan on short notice. Is that correct?” I asked. I used the voice Magic Maynard had taught me to use to divert the crowd's attention from his act. Soft and steady, and pay no attention to the man behind the curtain. Blitz took a couple of extra seconds to reply, but when he did, I nodded and stepped him away from Ebony. I picked up the pad of paper my dad had been taking inventory on and flipped to a blank page.

“How many guests?”

“Forty.”

“That's a pretty big party.”

“I'm known for my parties, sweetheart. Are you new around here? Better make it forty-one.”

I bit back a laugh at the expense of his come-on and stayed professional. “Do you have a caterer? Music? Theme?”

“Roman Gardens was going to supply everything.”

“They must still have the music and theme arranged, even if their location is out. So really, you need a location. That shouldn't be so hard—”

“I canceled everything Octavius had planned and took back my deposit. He's not getting a dime out of me. I need a new plan and I need it fast. The works.”

It had been a while since I'd worked at the store, but I knew
what he was asking for was borderline impossible. “I'm sorry, but I don't think that's doable.”

“Sure it is. That's your business, isn't it?”

“Our business is costumes.” I held a hand up and made a sweeping gesture toward the rows of clothing hanging on racks over our heads. “If you have a theme, we can suggest costumes, and you can either rent them or buy them. We do custom costumes too, but that takes time. There's a considerable price break if you rent instead of buy, but the deposit is nonrefundable. If you don't have a theme, we can show you around the store and maybe something will inspire you.”

“That skit you were doing when I walked in. What was that for?”

“Skit? We weren't performing a skit.” I turned around and looked at my dad. He still wore the deerstalker, but had set the pipe on the counter. “Sherlock Holmes?” I said.

“He's a mystery guy, right? That could be cool. Intellectual. Nobody's done anything like that around here. It'll be highbrow, literary. Yep, I like it. Everybody comes as their favorite detective. Bring out all the famous ones. Perry Mason, Sherlock Holmes, the works. Just remember, keep it young. I'm turning twenty-six, not eighty-six.”

“I don't think you understood me. We do costumes, not party planning—”

“But I do,” Ebony interjected. She stepped between Blitz and me. “Give me the night to secure the location, entertainment, and catering. Come to my shop tomorrow and we'll work out details.”

“There aren't any details to work out.” He pulled an envelope out from inside his jacket and tossed it on a table. “Twenty thou should get you started. I'll pay the rest when it's done.”

Diane Vallere
is the national bestselling author of the Lefty-nominated Material Witness Mysteries, which include
Crushed Velvet
and
Suede to Rest,
and the Costume Shop Mysteries, which began with
A Disguise to Die For
. She is the daughter of a seamstress and a scientist, which makes her feel like the love child of Edith Head and Mr. Spock. After twenty years in the fashion industry, she now writes full time, trading fashion accessories for accessories to murder. She launched her own detective agency at ten years old and has maintained a passion for shoes, clues, and clothes ever since. Visit her at dianevallere.com.

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BOOK: Silk Stalkings
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