Page 2 of Kill for a Kiss

“But I quite like the curls,” Clo says, touching a lock of Kaye’s gently. “Reminds me of Mimi, or rather, Naomi.” She turns to me. “Kaye’s mother.”

There’s a smile on Clo’s face that doesn’t reach her eyes.

“We were close once,” Clo adds.

Kaye smiles back, a bit dimmer.

I don’t ask. I haven’t seen the bride’s mother at this reception. I try to remember the last time I’ve seen mine. The thought grips at my chest, ever so slightly.

“Elle, darling, please take care of my brand new daughter-in-law.” Clo pats my back gently, her hand moving to Kaye’s. She nudges us both away.

I look around, considering where to take Kaye. But she pulls me toward the vineyard. It seems as good a place as any.

We move deeper into the rows. That’s when I notice something odd—how the wooden trellises are built too tall and too thick. The leafy tendrils seem to have been basketweaved, leaving every space filled. It’s as if they were built to be walls.

Glancing over my shoulder, I see the mansion’s ivory brick walls. The many rows in this vast vineyard seem to mirror the mansion’s sense of a fortress as if it’s hiding something.

I can’t see over the top of these rows of grapevines, only able to peek at the bottom where the grass is trimmed to the tee. I know I’m rather short, but…vineyards aren’t usually built like this, are they?

Once Kaye finds an adequate spot, I find myself able to hear the waves crash more clearly here. I blink, letting her face settle in my vision. Then I run my fingers through her hair lightly, not to disturb the waves too much. The curls have gone wild at the ends. So that’s where I spray some saltwater, then scrunch them gently, shaping the chaos into more intentional strands.

Kaye’s delighted by the end of it, her eyes bright as she gazes into the compact mirror I hold for her. “Wow, you make it look so easy to style me. You’ll have to show me how to do it again sometime.”

I smile faintly, glad to have helped. Then the groom, Damon, appears behind me so swiftly I don’t notice him until his hand settles gently at the small of Kaye’s back. She beams up at him.

“Oh, my husband’s here,” she says, her tone light.

It’s an endearing sight, so much so that I can’t stop a wider smile from pulling at my lips. Damon greets me with a charming smile of his own, offering his hand. I take it, shaking it gently. I’ve heard plenty about him, since I work closely with Clo, but I suppose this is the first time I’m actually meeting him.

He’s been talking the whole time that I’ve been lost in thought, and I realize I’m blushing, embarrassed at how distracted I’ve been. I dip my head, hoping to hide the flush in my cheeks. I gamble on my next words. “It was my pleasure, Mr. Song-Smith. Kaye’s a natural beauty, so there really wasn’t much work to do.”

Kaye grabs my hands, her grin wide. “We’re best friends now, do you realize that?”

Her husband chuckles. “Elle, would you mind if I stole my wife away for a moment?”

I blink, trying to gather myself.What was I doing here again?

I pull myself together, but the words tumble out before I can catch them. “Oh, goodness, of course! I didn’t mean to be rude. Excuse me.”

I turn, weighing my options. The vineyard? The coast? Or back to the reception? Not really minding where, I pick a direction and start walking.

As I move farther away, I hear Kaye’s teasing voice float behind me. “You just had to have me all to yourself, didn’t you?”

Damon’s laugh follows, warm and sweet. Their easy exchange makes my heart flutter. I wonder if I’ll ever feel that effortless ease between me and another. I wonder if I ever have. But I simply can’t seem to remember.

1

Elle

I chose to walk through the vineyard. Or maybe my feet chose for me.

The vineyard stretches wide and endless, thick with vines heavy with ripened fruit. The rows sit like a sea of green and deep red, lining the edge of the cliff where the waves crash in a steady, rhythmic pulse. It feels like my heart’s beating to the sound of it, thrumming louder the closer I move toward the coast.

It’s humid with the ocean breeze, sweetened by the scent of sun-warmed grapes, and blending into a rich intoxication, like wine left out to breathe for too long. But something else lingers. It’s sharp, metallic, faint, yet undeniably familiar, stranded somewhere far away in my memory.

Everything here stands tall and thick, the vines standing like walls, fortress-like, with their basketweaved leaves rustling.

Golden lanterns sway, their light glowing over the tangled greenery, stretching shadows into jagged shapes. The light blurs the line between where the vineyard ends and the darkness begins.