The Deliciously Deceitful Ones

By Brandi Brown

Beatrice Cunnings will stop at nothing to find the path that leads her to her unanswered questions. Gifted with knowledge only few can harness, poised and yet determined to uncover the secrets of her past, she struggles to embrace herself as a winsome eccentric. However, she will stop at nothing to find the road less traveled.

Beatrice finds things are not always as they may seem. And sometimes we will learn the magic we seek is indeed what we carry with us along the way.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Oct 23, 2022
• ISBN: 9781669852759

Brandi Brown

Brandi Brown was born in a small town in Lima, Ohio. Publishing her first poem The Line of Poetry at the early age of 12, she has now embarked on her journey into becoming an accomplished author. With much success, she has demonstrated how ambition and integrity can pave the way to ones dreams becoming true. “To my family and friends- May God bless you and keep you well. Always in good spirit.” To My Love, Your Brown Eyes

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Copyright © 2022 by Brandi Brown.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

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

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Rev. date: 10/28/2022

Xlibris

844-714-8691

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CONTENTS

Chapter 1 Mystique the Mysterious

Chapter 2 Hotel Monumental

Chapter 3 To Do or Not—Do I?

Chapter 4 The Delicious Pots and Plots

Chapter 5 Aubrey

Chapter 6 We All Have Our Little Secrets

Chapter 7 Magical Friendships

Chapter 8 The Rescue

Chapter 9 We Can Be Heroes

Mysterious yet chaotic, this world can sometimes leave us empty and left gasping for air, taking only what we think valuable throughout our journey and missing the true rarities life has to offer. To finally hold a dream we’ve chased inside the palm of our hands, only to have it fly away, how do we mold its precious treasures into lasting images we then shape into a moment in time?

To my Angel Alasia

One of my most precious gifts in life.

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Welcome to my world . . . Won’t you come on in?

Miracles, I guess, still happen now and then. Step into my heart and leave your cares behind . . .

Welcome to my world . . . built with you in mind . . .

—Dean Martin, Welcome to My World

CHAPTER 1

Mystique the Mysterious

July in Fresno, California, was always beautiful. Today the weather was just like every other day—sunny and a mild eighty-two degrees with no chance of rain. The best time to take a drive to one of the nearby beaches. Two hours and you’re there with little to no traffic along the way. Not bad if you have the day to kill. I’ve always seemed to manage to find the time to hit the beach. It has recently become my thing to do, and I must say I’m looking better every day. I’d just stopped by one of my favorite stores to pick up a high-waist sequin miniskirt I ordered online. My plans tonight: hit the new Tiki Lounge along the shoreline. These days I like to stay single and in style. Keep it light, you know. I’m not really one for any relationship drama, and Mr. Right always ends up becoming Mr. Wrong—and fast. I’ve found I don’t have much time to waste these days anyway. I’ve been booked to the gills with weddings, anniversaries, birthday parties—you name it! If it’s a reason to celebrate, I’m there! And not to join the party—to host it! I started this new gig about a year ago as a wedding planner, and it sort of grew into my very own small business. Referrals have been easy for me to come by in this Golden State.

It all started when I helped a coworker a few years back cater to a local wedding party. At the time, I was working at this mom-and-pop place called Lisa’s around the corner and wasn’t making very much money. Merci, my then coworker, had asked me to tag along that night and help out with serving some of the main dishes. I remembered thinking, If I can’t beat ’em, then I’d join ’em. Well, that sort of thing, something in that context, you know. I’ve never been married, and by the way things are going, I don’t think I’ll be getting married anytime soon. My last relationship barely lasted six months, so I thought maybe I’d give dating a rest for a while. I figured twenty-three years old was a good age to reel it in for some self-assessment. Today would be one of those days. I just finished the last event I had booked for the week and couldn’t wait to hit the beach for some R&R. But first, I decided to head back home and pack a bag for the weekend. I probably wouldn’t get back into town until later in the week. I figured I’d stay there at the hotel a few days and get my head together.

Today ended up being one of the most stressful days in my career as an event coordinator that I’ve had thus far! One of my newly acquired clients had gotten cold feet and didn’t show up to her own wedding. Although I had already collected half of my payment upfront, I must say the whole ordeal has just left me somewhat tainted. It was, by far, one of the saddest things to ever see. There he was, the groom, standing at the altar, quietly waiting while their family and friends gathered around, wearing their expensive dresses and tuxedos, only to realize she had no intention of showing. We must’ve waited for almost an entire hour before it got so uncomfortable that the bride’s mother stepped away to make the call. She didn’t have to say much when she returned inside. The streak lines of ruined makeup had said it all.

See? Great example of why I haven’t walked down that aisle myself just yet. Instead, I’m planning on walking down the aisle tonight at the Tiki Lounge in my four-inch designer heels! As much as I had begun to enjoy today’s weather, I was ready to get to the shoreline and check into the hotel room I had reserved for the night. One of my clients had managed to pull a small favor and get one of the most exquisite rooms they had available for my stay. It would serve as a partial payment for an event I had put together for him a few weeks ago. Something told me he would be there at the hotel tonight. Teddy Frinch was his name, and he never seemed to catch any hints of thanks I would throw his way. He had been successful in locating me from one of the ads in the local newspaper I had put out a while ago for services I provided to the public. That particular ad he had responded to, not only showcased the pictures I had taken of the graduation event I had put together, but also of my firmly-shaped figure. The graduation was that of Marsha Waters, a local nurse who had finally completed her schooling and gotten herself a state license. The event had turned out to be a big hit and even ended up landing me quite a few new clients for business. Mr. Frinch was one of those clients. He has since booked me three times to put together a few parties.

Mr. Frinch was a criminal defense attorney and had made a big name for himself in this Golden State. He had a reputation not only for the amount of the cases he won, but also for the number of women known to throw themselves at him. I, however, was not one of them. To his surprise, I had not yet taken him up on one of his late night offers. And I gotta say I don’t have any intentions to do so either. The weather had now started to cool a bit, but the mere thought of seeing Mr. Frinch tonight still left me heated with aggravation. He was twice my age, and did I mention married?!

I entered through the security gates separating my community from the surrounding neighborhoods. Managing to avoid a car parked on the side of the street, I rounded the corner barely able to squeeze my way past and into my driveway. The Wilsons owned that corner lot home, and their guests always parked their cars along the side of the street instead of in front of their home in the driveway. It made it difficult to get past. I wish they wouldn’t do that. It was always near to impossible to enter our gated community without hitting someone’s vehicle on the way in. July always seemed to have a way about itself like that: family visiting from out of town for the summer or small block parties filled with just a handful of people invited; cool and mystical, almost like a fairytale.

So many people came through this city looking for that American dream we’ve all coveted, only to find the homes and streets they came looking for were the same ones they left back home. I never really understood why those people felt the need to travel so far. I always thought maybe they were running from something or someone. They would either stay too long or stay out much too late, like they were waiting for something magical to happen to them or to drop out from the sky. I’d hear little sly remarks from tourists as they would click their cameras, pointing them at every bakery and boutique shop they’d pass to take photographs for their vacation album, "Make sure you get a picture standing in front of Junipero Serra’s statue, honey! This one is a part of this state’s history! You know, he was the