Page 30 of My Sexy Rival (Stars In Their Eyes 2)
I left the library, zoomed 1.7 miles to the road that led to Chelsea’s home, and cut the engine, parking my scooter near the cars of the other wedding guests. A twenty-something woman in a pale yellow dress stepped out of the car next to me, and said hello.
“Hi,” I replied. I didn’t recognize her, but not everyone attending was famous. Claire Tinsley certainly wasn’t. I stuffed my backpack under the seat of my scooter, locked the seat, slid my purse on my arm, and held the box with the wedding gift inside it, wrapped neatly in white paper with raised white bells and a bow that would never come undone. My wallet with my fake ID was inside the purse. I checked my dumb phone one last time as I walked to the line of guests at the gate.
There was a new text from William.
Change of plans.
I froze when I saw those three words. I pressed hard on the middle button on the phone to call up the rest of the message. These dumb phones were slow.
I breathed easily again when I read the rest of the message. Just wanted to let you know no one’s checking IDs any more for the app. All you have to do is give your name. They’ll check the list. Claire’s on it. James is running me around like crazy so I’ll try to find you when I can.
That was a relief. But yet it was strange. After all the security precautions, the leaks planted about the false locations, as well as the plainclothes security all over the grounds, why would Veronica no longer want the guest list verified?
The girl in the yellow dress gave the security guy her name, and handed over her cell phone.
I closed William’s message, and saw one from Anaka had just arrived. Only the first few words appeared on the screen. Um, my dad’s not—
But the message cut off, and as I stabbed the middle button to open the note, the security guard had already nodded to the woman in the yellow dress and motioned for her to head to the nearby golf cart, waiting to ferry guests from the gate to the house.
I closed the phone before I could read Anaka’s message.
“Hi. I’m Claire Tinsley,” I said, and my voice sounded scratchy and gravelly. I was trying to sound different, to throw them off the scent. But that was silly, I reminded myself. I needed to not stand out.
The security guard—Sal, I remembered, since William had told me his name—ran his index finger down the paper. My lungs threatened to leap out of my body as he scanned. I didn’t see Claire’s name on the list. My heart was planning a mutiny as he turned to the next page. My name was always near the middle of any list. Where could it be? Then my insides settled and I remembered why. Because my last name usually started with an L. But today it started with a T.
The security guard found Claire Tinsley’s name, then asked for my cell phone. I handed it to him, and he wrote my name on masking tape, then pressed the tape onto the phone. He looked through my purse, patting my wallet and my makeup case. He waved me in. “There’s a table for presents right inside the front door.”
“Thank you,” I squeaked out, as I took a seat next to Yellow Dress in the golf cart. I held on tight to the gift.
That was it. It was so easy, it was beyond easy. I was inside the premises, and now all I had to do was assemble the camera when I reached the house.
“Friend of the bride? Or friend of the groom?”
Yellow Dress was making small talk as the cart bumped over the driveway.
“Bride,” I said in my normal voice this time. “You?”
“Same. We went to college together,” she said, a cheery smile on her face.
“Oh, that’s nice. What did you study?”
“English literature,” she said. “What about you? How do you know Veronica?”
Yellow Dress seemed to be studying me closely, and I worried she might recognize me from the photos with Riley and Sparky McDoodle from earlier in the week. But my dog alibi fit that, too.
“I’m a dog trainer. I’ve worked with the family’s Chihuahua–mini pins.”
“Oh my God. That is such a coincidence. I have to ask you a dog question. My Yorkie won’t stop getting into the cat’s food, and I feed the cat in the laundry room. I’m so worried he’s going to get fat.”
I nodded several times, playing the part of the cool, confident dog trainer who’d dealt with this situation before. I flicked back to the episodes I’d watched of I’m a Dog Person while training Jennifer. “What you need to do in those situations is set a trap for the dog. You have to leave the door to the laundry room open, set the food there for him, and just wait. When he makes a move for it, then you correct him.”
