Tea for Two Read Free

incident?”
    “Oh, no sir, not incarcerated. He’s free as a bird. He and Aunt Rosa just got back from Italy a few weeks ago. They had a terrific second honeymoon. Speaking of which, my husband and I just arrived home from a Mediterranean cruise a couple of weeks ago, ourselves.”
    “You’ve been traveling in the Middle East?” Agent O’Conner quirked a brow. “What was the nature of your visit?”
    “The nature of it? Like I said, it was a second honeymoon. D.J. and I—D.J. is my husband—anyway, D.J. and I went to Santorini, Italy, and Spain. Oh, and Turkey. We were supposed to get off in Turkey but with the current unrest, well, you know. We had to stay on the ship.”
    “This D.J. fellow—will he be at the wedding?”
    “Oh, sure. He’ll be running sound.”
    “We’ll need to clear the sound equipment,” O’Conner said. “In fact, we’ll need to clear every square inch of this place. I hope you realize the seriousness of this process, Mrs. Neeley.”
    “I do.” Sort of. Until five minutes ago I had pretty much thought of the DeVine wedding as a fairly typical event. That had certainly changed.
    “Just so you understand, Mrs. Neeley, our assignment here will include setting up security posts, making inspections, providing safety and/or emergency response, if necessary. We will service the facilities and surrounding areas on the night of the wedding by monitoring and operating various pieces of communications equipment, along with other advanced technologies that will help us detect and/or identify high-risk items or people. We are also authorized to make arrests. Do you have any questions?”
    Um, yeah. I had about ten, but couldn’t seem to remember them right now. And my heart was suddenly thump-thumping so loudly I couldn’t hear anything the man said.
    “You’re here to protect the bride?” I asked, my voice probably too loud. “Or the groom?”
    “Technically, Title 18 U.S.C. 2056a7 authorizes the U.S. Secret Service to protect spouses of major Presidential and Vice Presidential candidates within 120 days of the general Presidential election. As the election is not for several months, the time frame does not fall within those boundaries. So, to answer your question, we are here to protect the groom.”
    “You’re saying the bride’s on her own?” I offered what came out sounding like a weak laugh.
    “Do we have reason to be concerned about her well-being, Mrs. Neeley?” He gave me a penetrating gaze.
    “Heavens, no. I’m just making light conversation.”
    “We don’t make light conversation.”
    Okay then.
    “And just for the record, the wedding locale is top secret. Even the guests won’t know the location until the day of the ceremony. We expect your full cooperation in keeping this event on the down-low.”
    “But the vendors. . .won’t they have to know?”
    “The ones who need to know will know.” He gave me a stern look. “Got it?”
    “Um, got it.”
    We spent the next hour and a half going over every square inch of Club Wed. So much for getting my work done this morning. Who were these guys, to think they could just show up unannounced and interrupt my workday? Oh yeah. They were the Secret Service. And I’d better do everything they demanded.
    After going over the building with a fine-toothed comb, one of them—the tallest fellow in the dark suit—pulled out a small camera and began to take pictures.
    “I wish I’d known you were coming,” I said. “The room is filled with stuff I brought back from the Middle East.”
    “Middle East?” He turned to face me, his eyes narrowing to slits. “Could you elaborate?”
    “Yes. I’d be happy to elaborate. We went on a cruise and I found the most gorgeous items. Thought they’d be perfect for centerpieces. Want to see them?”
    “I want to see everything you brought home from the Middle East, but first I have a question: Did you meet any strangers?”
    “Oh, lots of strangers. There was this great guy we