Chapter 5: Crepes and Murder

Poppy felt herself stiffen with shock, even as the crowed started to murmur in confusion. It seemed Natalia wasn’t the only one expecting her to be named as his future wife tonight.  But Malcom stood still on the stage, staring straight at her, smiling.  Like this wasn’t the craziest thing he could do. Who announced they were marrying someone they had spent all of thirty seconds conversing with? This had to be some kind of joke.

“Well, Poppy?” He asked, his deep voice made it seem like there were only the two of them in the room.  She could feel the timbre of it rumble through her.  For a moment, she wanted to say yes. To move on the stage and take his outstretched hand. To know what it would be like to be surrounded by his strong arms. But then reality came crashing in. This was no romance story. This was crazy. This was actually a nightmare. This was not happening. It couldn’t be happening.  There was no way this incredibly handsome stranger wanted her, would marry her.  There had to be something that she was missing.  Some joke or punch line that she did not want to be part of.

Poppy started to hyperventilate in panic. What was going on? She had literally just met this guy, spoken all of twenty words to him, and now this?  This was crazy! She had to be dreaming, she had to…

Poppy couldn’t breathe.

With a strangled cry, she dropped the tray and fled from the room. The balcony doors were close and she raced out them as fast as she could with her heels and tight skirt.

Fortunately, no one followed her, at least right away.  They were all apparently in shock, too.

Poppy tripped out the door, across the patio and into the gardens. The moonlight was not too bright, but enough that she could make out a path amongst the plants.

She ran until she couldn’t anymore and then flopped to the ground with a groan, melting into the shadow of a decorative statue.

This had to be a nightmare. It had to be. Otherwise she was probably going to be blacklisted from Jack’s catering. And probably every other business in town. What was she thinking? Malcom Murray had businesses all over the world! She might never find a job. And goodbye to that internship she was applying for. Had Ms. Crist set this up? Was this all a mad plot to keep her forever working at the bakery?

What had Malcom been thinking? They didn’t know each other!  Why had he announced her name?  Why had he proposed to her?  Had he proposed?  It wasn’t like he actually asked her a question.  Just expected her to join him on stage while he declared they were getting married.  Sure, he was hot and all that, but marriage?  Poppy was twenty-two.  She had a year of college left.  She did not want to be tied down just yet.  She wanted to finish her degree.  Get a job.  Make her own way for a bit.  Enjoy being young and free.  Marriage was something she’d thought about in an abstract sort of way. A distant future sort of way. Not a within the next year sort of way.

Poppy thought back to their brief encounter. Half of it had been taken up by that horrid woman, Natalia, was that her name?  There had been nothing in the few words they said to each other that justified his announcement.  Why had he said her name? Love at first sight was a fairytale, not reality.  And why would one of the richest men in the world want her? This was all so crazy.  It had to be a mistake.  There was no other explanation.

When the speeches started, Natalia had looked… excited, ready?  Wait, was she expecting Malcom to propose? That made everything a million times worse.  She couldn’t imagine that a woman like Natalia would be happy to be upstaged by a woman like Poppy. This had to be some kind of horrid joke. Or worse, Malcom was trying to use her to throw off Natalia. Not that she would blame him for that. Natalia didn’t seem like someone who would make a great life partner.

In the distance, Poppy could hear people moving through the gardens. She thought she could hear her name being called, but everything sounded muted. The blood rushing through her head made it difficult to hear anything beyond her own pounding heart.

She shivered on the ground, next to a cold statue, hugging her knees to her chest as she huddled in the shadows, trying to make herself smaller, to blend in with the darkness.  It was too much, too overwhelming.  All those people, all the expectations…

There was too much for her to process.  She heard them around her, but fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on how one looked at it), Poppy was good at making herself small and invisible. She’d had lots of practice during her time in foster and group homes.

She buried her head in her knees and gently rocked back and forth.

You’ve lived through shit before, you’ll live through this. She told herself as she took slow breaths, hoping to calm herself down.

Ugly memories of her past tried to rear their heads, but she pushed them down.  She would not let them rule her life, not now.  She had fought so hard and come so far on her own, she would not let this situation, or any other, tear her away from what she had worked so hard to achieve.

Flashbacks of junior high, when her crush, publicly asked her to the eighth grade dance.  She had happily accepted.  It was the middle of lunch, she could still smell the burnt chicken nuggets and stale boiled broccoli.  He’d stood on a table and yelled his question across the room at her.  Poppy had been sitting alone, as usual.  She had just transferred and no one wanted to be friends with the weird red-headed foster kid.  For a split second, she had been happy as she said yes.  Excited that she was finally being accepted, when everyone started laughing.

It was a joke, a horrible joke.  As soon as she accepted his proposal, he loudly, and publicly began to tell her exactly why no one would want to date her.  It was humiliating.  Poppy ate her lunch in the bathroom until she was moved to a different home and a different school the next year.

She expected that kind of shit from junior high boys.  But grown adults? At a fancy party?  What else would be the point of yelling her name when they just met?  Malcom had to be crazy to think this was funny.  She wished she could wring his neck and yell at him.  Why her of all the waitstaff?  Was she the only one whose name he knew?

Or was he just trying to pull a joke on Natalia?  That seemed more likely, but still, poor taste. Just because she was the help didn’t mean that he could use her as a punchline of a joke she had no connection to.

Eventually, she felt her heart beat slow down and she started to become aware of the world around her.

First, she noticed that she was cold.  The fall evening wasn’t cold enough for frost, but winter was coming, and coming soon and the evening air was definitely chilly. Her uniform was too skimpy to be any protection against the nighttime chill.

Second, she started registering that people were coming her way and they were talking.

“Who does that little whore think she is!” A woman’s angry voice cut through the still night, “This was my night and she ruined it!”

“I know, pumpkin.” A man’s voice sounded soothing, “But you were there when we talked to Malcom.  He said she is his fated.  This throws a wrench in things.”

“Daddy! He’s mine! You promised!” Her voice started to sound like a whiny toddler.  Poppy was starting to be annoyed by this woman.  It wasn’t like Poppy had anything to do with the announcement; she was just as caught off guard as anyone else. It was unfair to call her names for something she had no control over. “Talk to the council again, get Anna to agree with us, they can make him change his mind.”

“Not if she really is his fated.” The male mused, “The agreement was clear, if he didn’t find his fated mate by his thirtieth birthday, then he would mate you.  It appears he has found her.  Or at least claimed he has.”

“So I should just let her have him? Daddy! She’s a… a waitress!” They were getting closer.  Poppy shrank back deeper into the shadows.  As long as they didn’t look down, she should be ok; the dark uniform helped her blend in.

“I didn’t say that,” the man’s voice dropped, “I just said that as long as she’s around, Malcom can’t be forced to do anything.  But if something were to happen… If she were to meet with an unfortunate accident.  Tragic, of course, so young and all that, blah, blah, blah, whatever people say to make them feel like they are sorry someone dies suddenly.  However, that would mean that Malcom would not have the excuse of a fated anymore.  And he would never have another, so he would have no choice but to marry you per the council’s decree. So whether he’s lying or he’s telling the truth, he will have no choice once she’s gone.”

Silence followed this statement.

Poppy did not want to think about the implications.  Would these crazy people really kill her so she didn’t mate (whatever that meant) Malcom Murray?  That was insane.  She didn’t even want to marry him!  She had literally just met him!  What was wrong with these people?

She felt a scream bubbling up in her throat.  But she couldn’t afford to let it go.  If they knew that she was out here, alone, in the dark…

Well, the possibilities of making her disappear were endless in this situation.  And they would probably be able to get away with it, too.  Poppy had been around long enough to know that with a lot of money, people were able to get away with just about anything.  Even murder.  Especially if the victim was a poor, orphaned college girl.  It would not be hard to make a girl like her disappear. Only Melissa and Mrs. Crist would actually miss her, for different reasons, but they wouldn’t be able to do much if these rich people used their influence to cover up their crime.

“Do you smell that?” The man’s voice was so soft, Poppy almost didn’t hear him.

“Is it her?” The woman’s whisper was closer to Poppy than she was comfortable with, especially given their statement that they wanted her gone.

Poppy held her breath, hoping beyond all hope they would pass her and she could get out of there.  Even though she didn’t really relish going back to the hotel, at least there were people there.  She’d be somewhat safe.

The world seemed to go still.

The voices stoped.  Poppy couldn’t hear their footsteps.

Where were they?

She started to sweat as she held in a sob.

She did not want to die here. Something deep inside told her that they wouldn’t think twice about using the opportunity of finding her alone to act out their plan.

Poppy was frozen.  She could risk it and run back to the hotel.  But what if they were close?  They had been whispering and she could still hear them.  She hadn’t seen them pass by her hiding spot, so they might be on the other side of the statue, but that didn’t give her much of head start.

Or what if they had moved on? She hadn’t heard any footsteps move past her, but she wasn’t really listening to footsteps right then.

Should she stay and keep listening or should she make a run for it?

She could always try screaming for help, but she didn’t know how close anyone else was.  Would anyone be able to come save her before they were able to get to her? Would anyone want to?

Before she could make up her mind a soft footstep caused her to jerk her head up.

“Well, hello.” The rude woman, Natalia, was standing in front of her, “Fancy seeing you here, whore.”

That voice… Poppy felt light headed.  She was the one demanding her daddy do something about Malcom’s supposed engagement to Poppy.

Though she had never been athletic, Poppy found herself jumping up and running as fast as she could back toward the hotel.

For a moment, she didn’t hear any thing other than the rushing of the wind.  It took all her effort not to turn and look behind her to see if Natalia was chasing her. She really hoped someone like Natalia was too invested in appearances to run through a garden in evening dress.

Suddenly, a large gray wolf leapt out at her.  Snarling, it snapped at her legs.

Poppy screamed and tried to dodge the animal.

She felt a tearing sensation as claws ripped at her calves and she stumbled, slamming hard into the ground.

The wolf was on top of her now, tearing at her with its claws as Poppy screamed in fear and pain.

This was it.  This was how she died.