TORN ASUNDER (A MAINE CLAMBAKE MYSTERY #12) BY BARBARA ROSS EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
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- Authors: BARBARA ROSS
- Language: English
- Genre: Thriller / Suspense
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
I walked my friends Zoey Butterfield and Jamie Dawes through the firstfloor function rooms of Windsholme, the mansion built by my mother’s
ancestors on Morrow Island. My stomach fluttered with equal parts
excitement and anxiety. I cared so much what they thought.
In the old main salon, the round tables and accompanying chairs were set
out, seating for one hundred of Zoey and Jamie’s nearest and dearest.
Fourteen crisply ironed white tablecloths sat on a sideboard, ready to be put
into service. Another sideboard held the salad, dinner, and dessert plates
lovingly designed and handmade by Zoey, on which we’d serve the
wedding feast. The day was beautiful, not always a given in early June in
coastal Maine. The sun shone through the French doors, bathing the
enormous room in a rosy, nuptial glow.
Zoey sighed. “It’s perfect.”
I nodded enthusiastically, hoping my smile looked affirming. In truth, I
would have been happier if this wedding, in which I was doing triple duty
as the maid of honor, wedding planner, and venue manager, had come later
in the season, after we’d had a chance to work out some kinks. Zoey was
my closest friend, as well as my boss and business partner at Lupine
Design, her ceramics company. Jamie had been a neighbor and good friend
since our kindergarten days waiting for the yellow school bus that took us
to Busman’s Harbor Elementary. I loved him like a brother and wanted only
the best for him.
I cared about every wedding we would hold this summer in our newly
renovated space. But for those other events, I was working with a team of
people related to or hired by the happy couple. For this wedding, I was the
team.
When they’d announced their engagement the previous summer, Zoey
and Jamie said they would hold their wedding on any summer weekend we
had available. Then, this spring, there’d been a sudden flurry of news and
activity. The bride’s former teacher, who was to be the officiant, was going
to be in Europe and was only available in June. Jamie’s elderly parents
weren’t getting any younger. Et cetera. Et cetera. As a result of all this, he
and Zoey ended up grabbing the first weekend in June, the first wedding
we’d host. I’d barely gotten the staff hired for the traditional Maine
clambakes we ran on the island from Father’s Day through Columbus Day.
The last summer employee, a server, had signed on three days before.
Thank goodness, he’d been available immediately.
“Let’s keep going,” I said. “The rehearsal’s in two hours, and we still
need to get dressed.” I led them through the big oval foyer, where the
ceremony would take place. The three of us inspected the winding grand
staircase. Zoey ran her fingers along the banister, as if she was imagining
herself floating down the steps in her flowing white gown. Jamie looked
stunned, like he couldn’t believe the day was nearly upon us.
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