Maybelle’s elbow knocked a clip to the tile floor with a clatter, and she let out a growl over having done that for the millionth time that afternoon.
She wrapped her hair up around her fist and bent to retrieve it, then placed it in her lump of locks. Her hair had been through the ringer already. With her practice dummy head back home and no courage to ask for volunteers, she’d been testing out different styles on her own, trying to imagine Winter’s blonde hair in place of her bright red.
“Now, it’s a bit longer, so I could probably do tighter curls…” she mused, springing a loose curl near the nape of her neck. Her mind was thoroughly distracted, and it was a welcome relief to be thinking about something other than dating and men and future families. Will might have been trying to get her to stay by using whatever excuse he had in his arsenal, but he’d had a point. Styling Winter’s hair could definitely help her career. Winter’s business savvy and fortunate lineage probably had her in contact with more than one person in show biz, and fantasies had started swirling through Maybelle’s mind the moment she’d thought of actually styling the hostess’s hair.
There was brilliant New York with its Broadway. She pictured chaotic dress rehearsals and exotic hairstyles. She’d pal up with the actors and actresses, the makeup artists and costume designers. There would be coffee chats and girls nights out.
Or there was sparkling Hollywood with its up and coming stars, vision boards, and days at the beach. She saw herself making homes in either place until reality hit her that finding affordable one-bedrooms was a long shot, and her lack of resume wasn’t going to help any.
But it was nice, anyhow—to picture a life that wasn’t revolving around a husband and children. It seemed in her control, something attainable instead of impossible. Michael might have had a point the other night, and she was just now understanding what he meant when he’d said he gave up trying. Focusing on her career didn’t mean she was anti-marriage or anti-family. It just meant that if she never found those things, happiness wasn’t tied up in it. She could be happy without, right?
She unclipped her hair and let it fall to her shoulders. It’d be helpful to know what color Winter would be wearing; she could plan on sparkled accents which she herself couldn’t pull off.
A few more lonely hours later, her stomach grumbled like a tidal wave. She tucked a hand over her gut and let out a sad laugh. Her cowardice had kept her locked in her suite with little to no sustenance, other than coffee—bleck—and a box of crackers Will hadn’t managed to gobble up. Her gaze flicked to the clock, and she bit her lip. According to the itinerary, everyone should be in the theater room watching one of the many action flicks Winter’s father had starred in back in his heyday. The very beginning of a fantasy started growing her mind, of a strong arm over her shoulders as she tucked into a button down shirt that smelled of cinnamon, but she chased it away before it could form fully. Michael and Garreth both were probably watching the movie with girls who hadn’t played them both all week and then disappeared.
She sighed as another grumble went through her belly. If there was any time to risk sneaking some food, it was now.
She quickly slipped a dress over her head and opened the door a crack, peeking up and down the hallway for any movement. Once she made it to the elevator, she paused, and decided to take the stairs instead. They were easier to use in sneaking around situations.
She followed her nose as soon as she hit the landing. The overwhelming scent of popcorn filtered from the left, and while she salivated over it, she turned right and avoided the area altogether. The kitchens were off limits to guests, but maybe she could ask one of the many servers going in and out of there if she could have something. A story of not feeling well and wanting to rest with a bowl of that amazing soup they’d had the other night started forming in her mind, and she had it at the ready if she ran into trouble.
A loud bang of a door slamming sounded from behind her, and she let out a surprised yelp and slammed her hand over her mouth. She ducked into the shadows, hiding behind a plant while she waited for someone to pass by. After several minutes, in which her growling stomach would’ve given away her position anyway, she stepped back into the hallway and quickly made her way to the kitchens.
When she passed the dining hall, a different, yet still mouth-watering scent, filled the air. She inhaled deeply, sighing out loud with a smile. “Good gracious, what is that?” she said, unable to help herself. A mansion staff member just down the hallway chuckled and nodded her toward him.
“Chef is making one of my favorites tonight,” the young server told her when she got near. His expression probably matched hers in excitement over what was on the menu. “Triple cheese macaroni.”
She laughed, surprised. “It smells like heaven.”
“Just you wait till dinner.” He fiddled with his tie, loosening it and tightening it back up again. “That’s just a side dish.”
Maybelle gulped, her stomach barking at her to get some of that food stat. She put on a smile, hoping to charm him but also convince him that she had a slight headache or something that would excuse her from sitting down with the entire guest list. Just as she was about to put on the act, the kitchen door swung open and smacked her clean in the face.
“Oh my… Oh! Maybelle, I’m so sorry.”
Alexis rushed toward Maybelle, her notepad and pen in her left hand while she fussed over Maybelle with the other.
“Sorry, I didn’t know anyone was standing there… Are you okay?”
The sharp pain that ran through her nose dulled to a throb, and Maybelle blinked away the water in her eyes and nodded. “A’right here. Don’t need to fuss.”
Alexis gave her an apologetic grin, her cheeks a bright shade of red. “I should be more careful. Get carried away sometimes. Really focused in on this, you know?” She held up the notepad, the entire page filled with her scribbles. She leaned forward, and the server behind her disappeared into the kitchen. “I wasn’t supposed to be in there,” she said. “But I swear, the kitchen staff is in on this mystery, too.”
Of course she was still mystery solving. Maybelle’s smile faltered a bit, remembering Garreth keeping the murderer from Alexis just so she could have the pleasure of solving it herself. Why did he have to be so wonderful?
“Well, that’s better than my excuse,” Maybelle said, and her stomach growled again, clarifying her reasoning for kitchen sneaking. Alexis’ eyes bulged and then she laughed in surprise.
“Hang on,” she said. “I’ll get you something.”
She disappeared into the kitchen, was gone for maybe ten seconds, then emerged with a Styrofoam bowl and plastic fork rested across the lid.
“Here. Say you got it from Kelsey.”
“You are a saint.” Maybelle’s hands grew warm from whatever it was in the bowl, and she couldn’t wait to get it upstairs. She’d probably rival her brother in wolfing it down. “Thank you.”
“No problem. I hope you feel better.”
It took Maybelle three seconds to remember that she hadn’t told Alexis that particular fib, but someone else must have. People noticed she’d been gone?
“It’s just a headache,” she lied, touching a finger to her temple. “I’m sure it’ll go by tomorrow.”
Alexis nodded. “Don’t want to miss out on the murderer reveal.” She leaned in once more. “But between you and me, I think I’m gonna blow the lid off it before they can. I’m so close.”
“You should,” Maybelle encouraged. She could just imagine the hilarity of having a guest reveal it before the actors. Michael would get a kick out of it, she was sure. “Make a whole scene of it.”
Alexis laughed through a sly grin. “Garreth would love that.”
Maybelle nodded, but her growling stomach suddenly felt full of rocks. She knew Garreth and Alexis collaborated a bit together, but how much of their interaction was innocent mystery solving? Had he shared an electric kiss with Alexis as well?
Alexis pulled out her notepad and flipped to a page that had neat and all-caps handwriting, obviously not her scribbles. A leap ran through Maybelle’s chest as she realized it was Garreth’s notes.
“He’s really on to something,” Alexis said, a dip of admiration in her voice. “I’m pretty sure… Well, I’d like to think that the rumor to this place isn’t just, well, a rumor.”
“You mean the spirit of Cupid and all?” Maybelle asked, trying to keep the tremor out of her tone.
Alexis bit her lip, a fresh wave of blush going through her cheeks. She was pretty, girl-next-door type. Probably very analytical and maybe geeky—knew Lord of the Rings references. If there was a contest for perfect match for Garreth, and it was down to the two of them, Maybelle wasn’t so sure she’d win.
“Yeah,” Alexis said, flipping her notepad closed. “If I get the nerve, I think I’ll ask Garreth for his number before this is all over.”
Maybelle only grinned, unable to form words. Encourage it, and she’d have a clear conscience moving toward Michael. Discourage, and she’d feel second best throughout the rest of her stay.
Yes, best to just smile and nod.
“Well, I better lie down,” she said, quickly making an excuse to get back to her room. “Thanks for the food.”
Alexis tapped her nose, letting her eyes get serious. “Remember, Kelsey gave it to you.”
“Then thank you, Kelsey,” she said with a forced laugh. Then she took the long trek back to her room, her head so full she forgot she was hungry.