The Undercover Bridesmaid Read online

  The Undercover Bridesmaid

  Kimberley Montpetit

  THE UNDERCOVER BRIDESMAID

  Copyright © 2019 by Kimberley Montpetit

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  Spellbound Books

  Published in the United States of America

  Contents

  Introduction

  Free Book Offer!

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Epilogue

  Three weeks later . . .

  Dear Romance Lover

  About the Author

  Also by Kimberley Montpetit

  THE NEIGHBOR’S SECRET: A Secret Billionaire Romance

  THE EXECUTIVE’S SECRET: A Secret Billionaire Romance

  Introduction

  In the world of fiction, first meetings are a critical piece in the structure of the story. But in real life, first meetings are rarely as interesting. However, Kimberley Montpetit and I met in an unusual way when I picked her up at the airport, sight unseen, and gave her a ride to the writer’s retreat we were both attending. I can only imagine what Kimberley must’ve been thinking as she was sitting outside at the passenger pickup, with her luggage stacked around her, waiting for some person she’d never met.

  Kimberley and I had an instant connection and became fast friends. I could tell from talking to her that she’s a seasoned writer who really knows her craft. And then I read one of her books. Boy, oh, boy, can she write! She’s since become one of my favorite authors. It gives me great pleasure to introduce The Undercover Bridesmaid, from the Dangerous Affections Series. Kimberley has a wonderful way of crafting a multi-faceted story that caught my attention from the get-go. It was the perfect combination of suspense and romance. I was drawn in from the first page and know you will be too. Pull up a comfy chair and clear your schedule, because you won’t be able to put this one down until you’re finished.

  Happy reading!

  Jennifer Youngblood

  Author of I Know You’ll Find Me.

  Free Book Offer!

  When you subscribe to Kimberley’s Reader Newsletter, you’ll receive the romantic novel, RISKING IT ALL FOR LOVE with lots of other goodies as a Welcome Gift!

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  Chapter 1

  Chloe Romano’s office line rang while she was wolfing down a chocolate-frosted donut and pouring herself an ice-filled glass of Diet Coke.

  The fizzing soda melting over the ice cubes was a sound made in heaven—especially when she was overbooked and underpaid. Which described most days.

  Scratch that. Every day.

  “Can we finish this conversation later, Mom?” she said, leaving the First Lady’s office while her mother pored over the details of a fundraising party scheduled in a few weeks. The governor’s mansion cook had brought brunch, including the homemade donuts. Mrs. Harvey knew Chloe’s favorites were the pastries that boasted at least a thousand calories each. Which she should apply directly to her hips.

  “Come back when you’re finished, darling,” Diana Romano said. “This paperwork for the Romanian orphanage has to be done by tomorrow.”

  Orphanages and adoptions—anything to do with children—were the First Lady’s passion and life’s work, and Chloe often pitched in to help with fundraisers or visits to the children’s hospital.

  In an attempt to grab the still-ringing telephone, she dashed across the floor to the tiny anteroom. It was originally a closet. Just big enough to hold a small desk and chair.

  When Chloe was at the governor’s mansion, she had her calls forwarded from her apartment to this office. She kept her cell phone line private, only giving out the number for clients under contract.

  “Breakfast of champions,” she murmured in ecstasy as she downed the last bite of chocolate.

  Chloe managed not to fall into a sugar coma when she snatched up the landline and darted a quick glance at the caller ID, which read Mercedes Romano.

  Mercedes Romano? Why in the world would she be calling? She hadn’t spoken to her cousin since Grandpapa Tony’s funeral almost a year ago.

  The days of family reunions petered out when all the cousins reached adulthood and spread across the Eastern seaboard. Instead, they relied on the month of August for family reunions and indulging in their former teenage pastimes of sunbathing at Myrtle Beach while eating cherry snow cones and boy-watching.

  Growing nostalgic for a real vacation, Chloe quickly said, “Undercover Bridesmaid, Chloe Romano speaking.”

  “Chloe, is that you?” Mercedes’s voice came through ever-so-slightly British and cultured.

  “The one and only.” Chloe swallowed a gulp of her soda and grabbed for a napkin.

  Even though her father was in his second term as the governor of South Carolina, Mercedes had a knack for making Chloe feel like she was wearing overalls and chewing on a wad of tobacco.

  “This is Mercedes, your cousin,” she said, as if putting on airs.

  Chloe laughed. “You’re the only person I know with perfect diction and a slight English accent, even though you’re not British.”

  “I did an internship in London for my MBA,” Mercedes retorted.

  Chloe suppressed a smile. “Blame my despicable lack of memory. So, how are you? To what do I owe this unexpected phone call?”

  “Is this new business of yours genuine? Do you really hire yourself out as a bridesmaid?”

  “Sounds crazy, but yep, I actually do.”

  “People pay you money to walk down the aisle, carry a bouquet, and hold up the bride’s train?”

  “That’s part of Package A,” Chloe replied, wondering if Mercedes was trying to demean her job, or if she had some other motive. “But it’s nowhere near as simplistic as you infer. Sometimes I have to hold the dress up for the bride to use the restroom five minutes before curtain call.”

  Mercedes let out a sudden laugh. “Spare me the gory details, but enlighten me on what else you do.”

  “Is your request purely curiosity?” Chloe asked. “Or is this out-of-the-blue call an invitation to hang out with you at the beach this weekend? Because I could definitely pencil you in for that.”

  Despite her cousin’s businesslike tone, she gave a small snort. “Don’t be so suspicious, but a day at the beach does sound heavenly. I’ve hardly slept for a week. My wedding is becoming downright evil to navigate.”

  Typing on her laptop, Chloe logged on to her website to catch up on the latest email from the various brides she was currently managing. She had a secure interface so they could send email to one another that nobody else could access—like overly curious mothers of the bride, fiancés, or snooping “best friends.”

 
; “I understand more than you know,” Chloe empathized. “One week out, and most of my brides are ready to bag the whole thing and elope. Or bag the groom and go on a cruise by themselves.”

  Mercedes gave a light tinkling laugh. “You’re so funny, Chloe. I’m honestly curious about your chosen career. After flunking out of your FBI training at Quantico—”

  “—I did not flunk out,” Chloe cut her off. “I graduated, became an official agent, and then resigned after a year. End of story. If you bring up anything about that—so help me I will wring your pretty little neck with my bare hands.”

  “Wow. Chloe. Okay. Back off, sweetie.”

  “I’m sure you know the entire story from your mother,” Chloe added, a swell of emotion rising in her throat. The memories of her best friend Jenna dying in the FBI house raid often caught her off guard. Clenching her fist, she willed herself not to break down on the phone.

  Mercedes went silent for a moment as if she knew she’d pushed Chloe’s buttons. “Don’t mention my mother. She’s driving me up a wall.”

  Chloe perused her messages, trying to multitask. No bridal meltdowns today. “In what way?”

  “Isn’t it obvious? I’m supposed to get married in a week.”

  It was a good thing Mercedes couldn’t see Chloe’s face. She had completely forgotten that her cousin’s wedding was coming up so soon. At the moment, she was swamped with five other brides and their wedding to-do lists.

  Quickly checking her calendar, she saw that, yes indeed, she and her parents and older brother Carter had tickets to fly up to D.C. for the jolly event.

  “So, um,” she stuttered, trying to recover. “What’s your mother doing that’s especially aggravating? Actually,” she amended, “don’t tell me. I don’t want to get involved.”

  “If you’re a true bridesmaid for hire, you should know that mothers of the bride always drive their daughters insane. Or push them into getting sloshed on their wedding day so they can’t walk down the aisle without teetering. I’d wager a bet you’ve seen that up close and personal if you hire yourself out.”

  Her cousin made her sound like she was a call girl. “That’s true,” Chloe admitted, thinking of Sarah Schultz’s mother out in the Bay Area, who tried to micromanage every aspect of her daughter’s wedding. So much that Sarah came this close to ordering her mother to stay away from the ceremony.

  In an effort to take the pressure off of Sarah and help her have a good wedding day, Chloe concocted outrageous stories about accidentally forgetting Sarah’s mother at home—or suggesting that a cousin kidnap her. The only downside was that Sarah laughed so hard she nearly split her side seams while dressing for the wedding rehearsal, but Chloe only had to whip out her sewing kit and mend the crisis.

  “Are you the same as a wedding planner?” Mercedes asked, steering the conversation back to her original question.

  “Nope, a wedding planner helps rent the church, organizes the caterers, flowers, invitations, and all the reception details. Think of me more as the bride’s personal assistant.”

  “Sorry for all the questions. Can you do anything that the bride wants you to do?”

  “In a nutshell—yes,” Chloe replied. “You have a dress issue, I can help. You forgot your makeup bag, I can run errands. Your other bridesmaids are flakes, I can whip them into shape. You need help writing a speech for the reception to tell your new husband he’s the man of your dreams, I have a degree in creative writing. I can do flowery sentiments or false promises.”

  Mercedes actually giggled at that, and Chloe stared at the receiver in shock. Her cousin’s demeanor was usually prim and proper. She’d make a perfect senator’s wife.

  “Okay, it only happened once,” Chloe admitted with a grin. “A speech filled with false declarations of love, that is.”

  “The girl actually went through with the wedding? To someone she didn’t love?”

  “Let’s just say the bride had the wedding jitters so bad she almost backed out. But she went through with it and danced until two in the morning.”

  “Are they separated now?” Mercedes asked, assuming the worst.

  “Not at all. They’re about to have their first child next month.”

  “That is simply too peculiar, Chloe. These people—these brides—you work for do not sound ready for marriage.”

  “Weddings bring out the worst in people.” Chloe twirled a pencil between her fingers, a thousand tasks from her to-do list running through her mind. “I know I have an unusual job, but what did you call about? Yes, I can confirm that my family will be in attendance at your wedding next week. Got our e-tickets all ready to go,” she added brightly.

  “Actually,” Mercedes said, “I want to hire you, Chloe.”

  Chloe took a gulp of her Diet Coke, but the ice had melted, turning the drink watery and warm. “I’m sure you have a dozen best friends that are doing you the honor of being your bridesmaid.”

  “That’s not exactly true,” her cousin said slowly. “Since we’re getting married at my parents’ home instead of a big church or hall, I was only going to have three attendants. And they’ve all backed out.”

  Chloe stifled a gasp. Three bridesmaids had canceled on her? That was almost unheard of. “That’s terrible. I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s not what you’re obviously thinking,” Mercedes went on coolly.

  “I’m—I’m not thinking anything,” Chloe assured her.

  “My old roommate from college just joined the Peace Corps and left for Africa this morning. Another childhood friend is about to give birth any day, and my younger sister has decided to boycott the wedding.”

  “That’s a drastic measure. Why would Celine not see you married?”

  Mercedes gave a dramatic sigh. “We had an argument last night. She hates the idea of spending money on a lavish wedding. She’s into the whole concept of minimalism. Lives in a studio apartment in the basement of somebody’s house, volunteers at the soup kitchen twice a week, and likes to grow her own vegetables. She even got rid of most of her shoes. She only owns one pair now.”

  “The horror,” Chloe said drily, amusement spreading across her face. “So, Celine has rejected the idea of filthy lucre.”

  “In a manner of speaking,” Mercedes sniffed.

  Chloe had worked for enough brides to understand the underlying panic Mercedes was trying to hold at bay. Knowing her cousin, Mercedes was hiding the fact that her pride was hurt by her sister’s rejection—although Chloe often had her doubts about a warm heart underneath Mercedes’s ice-queen persona.

  Her cousin needed a bridesmaid. Any bridesmaid, even one for hire, to save face in front of her guests.

  “What are your rates—or is there a family plan? Hint, hint.”

  “I’m actually in the middle of other jobs. Most brides hire me months out from their wedding date.” Chloe flipped through her calendar. Her next on-site wedding wasn’t for two more weeks, although she’d lose a few days flying out early for Mercedes. She’d just have to work extra hours when she returned home, but she couldn’t resist giving her cousin a hard time. “Hey, I was going to kick back with Granny Zaida and gorge off the buffet table, not stand in a receiving line. Boy, you’re asking a lot, blood relative or not.”

  “Oh, goodness, Chloe, just name your price. Surely, it can’t be that much. You’d probably faint at the bill from my wedding planner.”

  “Define what you want from me. Walk down the aisle in a hideous bridesmaid dress? Chat up lonely guests? Be the first on the dance floor and make a fool of myself? Gather all the single women for the bouquet throw? Run interference between you and your mother? Dance with drunk Uncle Stan?”

  “Oh, that all sounds fantastic!”

  The relief in Mercedes’s voice threw Chloe for a loop. The girl was actually desperate, and a twinge of empathy rose in her throat. Mercedes Romano was one of the D.C. society elite’s, and her wedding was probably going to be a major event.

  “Hey, we don’t have a drunk
Uncle Stan!” Mercedes suddenly said.

  “Oops, that was my last wedding.” She laughed, and Mercedes seemed to relax a little.

  “I’d also like you to help me write up something to say for my vows to Mark. I hadn’t even thought of that part yet. The list keeps growing!”

  “Don’t panic, your wedding will be perfect. Okay, my rate for all that is normally fifteen hundred, but you don’t have to pay me. We’re family, after all.”

  “We’ll discuss that more fully when you get here,” Mercedes interrupted. “You don’t charge sales tax, do you?”

  “We won’t talk about filthy lucre any longer and if your wedding is in a week, we need to get going. I need you to send me a bridesmaid dress pronto. You did order bridesmaid dresses, correct?”

  “Of course. Text me your measurements, and I’ll have one of the dresses altered. I have a size 6, 8, and 10. You’re not a 12 or a 14 are you?”

  Chloe bit her lips to keep the sarcastic retort from leaking out. “A size 8 will do nicely. With an alteration for length—I’m probably taller than your other friends.”

  “Oh, you must have lost weight since I saw your family Christmas picture.”

  Chloe squelched the annoyance rising up her throat. Mercedes could be so passive-aggressive.

  “There’s just one more thing,” Mercedes said. “I have something else to tell you. Something you may not like.”