Killer Cupid (The Redemption Series: Book 1) (26 page)

Nita

“So! It seems we have a number of engagements to celebrate today!” Bud Bainbridge lifted his glass to offer a toast. Though we were just introduced, it felt like we had known him for years. I supposed being the renowned actor that he was, Bud was a people-person.

It was a large melding of families gathered at the Bainbridge home this Sunday afternoon. George took care to introduce Paulo as a rising star whom he discovered. Doug stifled a laugh.

Debbie looked like a princess, enthroned in her comfortable patio chair, cushioned with extra pillows. Her smile could not have been any sunnier. George and Marion seemed to be more at peace with the way things turned out.

Bud called upon some of the men to assist him in producing a barbecue. Many of the women gathered in the kitchen to chat and prepare the salad and vegetables. With so many enthusiastic hands, dinner was soon ready. Eduardo, Raphael and David came through the door just in time to eat.

The family sat down to the meal, the food and conversation enjoyed by all. Even Raphael’s father Roberto was caught up in a lively discussion of the best materials to use in creating a well-constructed and secure home. Bored with this topic, Eduardo instigated a game of volleyball.

Rod and Geoff quickly produced the necessary equipment and the teams formed. Maria implored Frederick to stop David from playing. He was not surprised when David refused to leave the game. Amidst the ensuing argument, David punched the ball toward the net. A sudden loud gasp focused the group on Rod, clutching the volleyball at his chest.

His brother Geoff rushed to his aid, “Are you okay?” He took him by the arm.

“I’m fine.” Rod whispered at last.

“I’m so sorry.” David looked horrified as he reached out to try and assist him.

“No, no problem!” Rod mopped his face with a handkerchief Geoff had handed him, as he caught his breath. “Just knocked the wind out of me, that’s all. Woo.”

“Geez, Lambrecht! You can turn anything into a lethal weapon. Glad you’re on my team.” Eduardo laughed, ever the diplomat.

Frederick waved David on to join in the game, seeing the Bainbridge men were no match for his son, even in his weakened condition. He joined Cisco and Eduardo. Raphael was invited to play for the Bainbridge team.

The first serve created an immediate dispute. The Bainbridges were not even sure why Raphael was upset at his cousin, but they had the good sense to get out of their way. Eduardo yelled at Raphael, almost nose to nose at the net. “I’m gonna kick your ass!”

“Go ahead and try!” Raphael stepped forward in defiance. Francisco made his way from the terrace, to referee the dispute. He grabbed his son by the shirt and explained this was not the time for profanity.

Their American audience on the patio watched the men with keen interest. Glori chuckled about Cindy’s rapt admiration for Raphael. “Cindy’s hero,” she teased.

“Well, he’s not backing down,” Cindy retorted.

“He won’t, either. And don’t be surprised if they kill each other over a silly volleyball game, or football, or any game for that matter. I guess you can see insanity runs in the family,” I said. The women all laughed.

***

It was early evening, and as I predicted, the men had worn themselves out playing volleyball. Cindy’s brothers left the game, exhausted, to watch Cisco and Raphael take on Eduardo and David. It was then that the competition became particularly ferocious. The Bainbridge men watched from the sidelines – relieved, I suspect, that they were out of the way of these lunatics.

Maria again beseeched Frederick to remove David from the game, but he knew it would be useless to try. The stress caused some upset for Debbie. Frederick decided to use her tears as leverage. It worked. The game ended. David came to console his fiancée. Eduardo continued his verbal assault on Raphael and Cisco, his father cautioning him again.

Mint iced tea was served to cool the competitors and spectators alike. Eduardo took a seat beside me and gulped his tea.

“Oh! Eduardo, you need a shower.” I waved my hand.

“So have you set a date yet?” Glori winked at me.

I smiled. “Probably October. But it’s not settled yet.”

Glori turned her attention to Debbie and David, sitting cozily entwined in their chair. “So what about you two? Debbie, have you set a date to marry your secret agent man?”

“Yes.” Debbie beamed. She looked up at David, who had been gazing at her with his now usual look of bemusement. “June first.” She nodded.

“June first, dear? That’s a month away!” Marion was flabbergasted.

“Yes, Mama.”

“Debbie, dear, we cannot plan a wedding in less than a month! It will take that long just to print the invitations.” Marion appeared to be going through a mental checklist of all the necessary tasks to complete. Maria sat, eyebrows arched, looking between the happy couple and the bride’s parents.

“Well, that’s okay Mama. We can just call everybody on the phone.” Debbie was undaunted, despite the laughter from her family and friends.

“Hey, sounds like a good idea to me.” Eduardo’s voice rose above the crowd. “Half the guys Lambrecht would invite wouldn’t get a written invitation for months anyway.”

Marion was becoming annoyed. “Oh for heaven’s sake, Debbie, we don’t even know if the church is available, or a location for a reception. They book up years in advance.”

“Oh no, Mama, we need to find a Catholic church.” Debbie was insistent.

“A Catholic church?” Marion looked confused.

“We need to be married in a Catholic church, Mama. Otherwise God won’t like it
—
it won’t be real.” Debbie furrowed her brow, and David coughed back laughter. “My friend Ginny Sullivan’s sister almost got married in the wrong church. But she found out, she had to get married in the Catholic Church, otherwise it wouldn’t be real.” She was becoming breathless as her concern deepened. David stroked her arm to calm her.

“Who is Ginny Sullivan?”
Marion
searched through her pill box, and presumably took something for headache.

“My friend from school.”

Marion turned to Maria with a confused stare, hoping for some help.

At last Maria spoke, “Well, where there is a will there is a way. We will do our best to get a church and reception location. With persistence and perhaps a bit of luck, we should be able to arrange it, hopefully tomorrow. And I expect we can get the invitations done quickly, if we press for it. I’ll have the guest list ready right away
—
certainly by Tuesday. And really, I expect we will have a small attendance from our side. It is such short notice, and people would be traveling a distance.” Maria’s confident response seemed to quell Marion’s panic.

***

Monday morning the Aldridges escorted their daughter back to the base. Debbie spent the day quietly painting at David’s bedside. David slept much of the day – the weekend’s exertion and stress had caught up with him.

George made business calls from the waiting room, while Marion and Maria worked on the wedding arrangements. They were successful in finding a small but lovely Catholic church nearby. George used his influence with his country club to change their schedule, and booked the reception at a mansion they reserved for the finest society functions.

Glori

I sat at the piano, my elbow precariously on the edge of the instrument, propping up my head in my hand. I focused on the lyrics of Cat’s latest song. It was my story. The story of Glori and Alain. Maybe it would also touch a million other people, but I inspired it. And how did Cat come up with that title?

Only Paulo was with me in the studio, sitting quietly in the corner, feverishly scribbling on some paper. He never looked up as my visitor entered.

“Glori! Hey babe, long time, no see.”

“Hi Brad.” I barely looked at him.

“How ya been?”

“Good.”
Not good.

“Busy tonight? I thought we might get some dinner, and uh… find something fun to do.”  Brad flashed his handsome smile.

I didn’t care. “No thanks.”

“Aw, come on Glori. Just some dinner. We had a good thing goin’, didn’t we? Let’s rekindle that ol’ flame, huh?” He sat beside me on the piano bench, patting his perfectly styled hair.

“No.”

“What’s with you, doll?”

“Nothin’.” Unhappy with my lack of energy and interest, Brad took me by both arms and turned me around to face him. I exploded. “How many times do I need to tell you, I’m not interested? I don’t want to go out with you!”

“Glori! Babe we had a great thing goin’.”

“It
wasn’t
a great thing! It was sex. Period. Freakin’… lousy… sex! Just sex!”

Horrified, Brad ran for the exit as I began pummeling him about the arms and chest. He turned back to face me from the safety of the doorway, in time to dodge my flying spike-heeled shoe.

“Lousy sex!” I screamed. He disappeared.

“Too bad it didn’t get him between his freakin’ weasel eyes!” I yelled to Paulo, frozen and red-faced in the corner. Then I got quiet, and returned to the lyrics.

Doug entered the studio carrying my shoe. “This yours Cinderella?”

I made a face at him, took it, and replaced it on my foot.

“Great song, huh?” Doug was staring down at the music.

“Yeah,” I agreed.

“Paulo, let’s hear this one.” Doug motioned him over to the piano. Paulo sat down and played the melody. I moved my head with the music, and moaned softly.

“Glori, why don’t you do a little bit of the song? I want to hear the lyrics.” Doug seemed serious. All my friends knew I was no singer.

I accompanied Paulo’s piano as though I’d done that song a thousand times before. I focused on the words on the page, but I was a million miles away. Paulo and Doug looked at each other.

“Not bad, Glori,” Doug said. “Not a big range, but what you got is nice, very nice.”

I stared up at him, unusually silent. Doug sputtered – and that was unusual for him. “I mean it’s the emotion, the emotion in your voice. It’s fantastic. It’s perfect! And the range, well that’s not really important for this one, at least not the way you do it.” Doug was directing his conversation more toward Paulo now. Paulo nodded in agreement.

“Glori, I think you should record this one. What do you think Paulo?”

“Sure.” Paulo didn’t look so sure, and he turned to me.

“Sure,” I whispered, “Living One Minute at a Time, by Glori Coulson and the Paulo Clemente Band.”

“Cool!” Doug smiled.

Debbie

Joe sat in the front row with Doug and Paulo’s proud family and Ellen, the candy striper who was Paulo’s new girlfriend. Everyone was there. Even David had permission from his doctor to take me to the concert. My parents were especially pleased with themselves, and took credit for “discovering” Paulo.

Joe had wasted no time in arranging a concert for the who’s who of the music industry. His plan was to introduce this remarkable new group and their music, create publicity for them, and a market for the million songs Paulo and Cat had written.

The auditorium was smaller than many Paulo had played. But today was probably the most important performance of all. Worried that he might be nervous, Joe and Doug had Paulo on drums and back-up vocals as Nita, Cat, and Robby performed many of their vocal solos. Even hiding behind the drums, Paulo was awesome.

Nita was an incredible performer. The audience was wild for her, and she seemed to know instinctively just how to handle the crowd. Maybe she was so composed because she was a trained emergency room physician. If you can handle life and death situations, I suppose you can sing a song in front of an audience.

When she finished her song, it was Paulo’s turn for a solo. Kurt approached him with his guitar. It was a song he’d written many years ago, and Eduardo had helped him with the lyrics. It was the result of a school project Paulo had been assigned while studying about American cities. It was a simple ballad, a sentimental favorite of theirs. I could see Eduardo wipe a tear when he finished it.

Paulo looked relieved and excited by the audience response, and he went right into his next song before the applause stopped. By the next piece he was calm enough to introduce the song. His shy, quiet manner won over the audience.

He had a wonderful tenor voice with emotion and power. As a guitarist and a pianist, he was superb. His ability on the drums amazed us. But it was his unique voice that captivated everyone.

The longer he played, the more relaxed Paulo became, and the more the audience responded. His shy personality and sincere love of the music charmed people. Everyone was up, dancing, clapping and singing along.

At last, Robby introduced Glori to the stage to sing her new song. A natural performer, Glori’s limited vocal ability went unnoticed by the crowd. Doug was right, the emotion in her voice and on her face made a powerful impact. She commanded attention and commanded the room.