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From Brewing up Murder
Chapter Three
MAEVE
Maeve felt overwhelmingly fabulous that evening as she
and her mother exited a limo in front of the enormous
luxury hotel. Music blared from the large pool-side balcony onto the
street, and the base made her chest pound.
Damien and Emma had been left behind at the apartment, but
Wanda tagged along. She was right at their side freshly bathed and
wearing a purple bow on her head that matched both her collar and
the form-fitting, floor-length gown that Maeve wore.
Her mother, always the fashionista, was decked out in an orange
gown that accented her hourglass figure. The woman also wore a
stylish hat that matched, and her shoulders were draped with a
light-weight orange, silky shawl.
After getting through security, Fiona hooked arms with Maeve
and squealed as they entered the party.
Maeve gasped as she looked around. This was a significantly
nicer party than any of the crummy LA shindigs her ex had brought
her to back in the day. These were some A-list actors and
producers.
“Whoa,” Maeve said. “Mom, how did you score an invite to this
party?”
“I was on the show once,” she said. “As a guest star sharing one of
my recipes. The show is celebrating its twenty-five-year anniversary.”
“What season were you on?” Maeve asked curiously.
“Season two – first episode,” her mother said proudly. “Ooh, come
on, come on – I see Chef Massimo! I must introduce you to him …
you too, Wanda.”
Wanda yelped playfully, and the three of them headed to where a
small crowd had formed.
“Fiona!” the tall, older gentleman said, breaking away from the
group to give Maeve’s mother a proper greeting, “I didn’t expect to see
you here. I heard you were in Italy.”
“I was, but who could miss one of your parties?” Fiona said, and
then waved in Maeve’s direction. “This is my daughter, Maeve, and
her sidekick Wanda.”
“I love dogs …” His voice broke off unexpectedly, and he glanced
nervously around the room. “I’m surprised security let you bring her
in here.”
“You know how convincing I can be, darling,” Fiona said, flirta‐
tiously tapping his shoulder.
He laughed. “Oh, I know.” He reached his hand out to shake
Maeve’s. “A pleasure. Do you watch the show, Maeve?”
“I’ve seen a few episodes. In the Kitchen with Massimo Esposito,
right?” Maeve asked, and the man nodded proudly.
One of the women who’d been chatting with Massimo, before
Fiona had interrupted them, broke away from the group. She was an
elegant Asian woman dressed to the nine’s in a slim fitting
sequin-studded gown. “Massimo, who’s your friend?”
“Mae Lin, you remember Fiona, right? All the way back to season
two?” Massimo asked.
“Of course,” Mae Lin said. “My first episode was episode one of
season two as your sous chef.”
“That’s right,” Massimo said. “Season one I was all by my lonesome
before the show decided to add some female flair to the show.”
“They made a great choice,” Maeve said. “You’ve got some great
insight, Mae Lin.”
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“Well, aren’t you just darling?” Mae Lin said, grinning. She turned
away from Maeve and purred at Massimo, “Massimo, there are some
guests wanting to congratulate you out by the pool.”
“Coming,” he said and then looked at Fiona with a smile. “Come
and enjoy yourselves. The food is out by the pool.”
“Yum,” Fiona said.
Together they linked arms and headed toward the elevators that
took them up to the pool deck overlooking downtown LA. With the
crisp fall air that evening, the party was fairly tame –and despite the
heated pool, no guest dared a dip.
“They don’t want get their hair wet,” Fiona said, as if reading
Maeve’s mind.
Maeve gave her mom a friendly poke in the ribs. “Well, it probably
took them a lot longer to get ready than it did you.”
Fiona smirked and wiggled her eyebrows at Maeve.
As they approached the pool, Maeve said, “I love the architecture
in this building.”
The hotel had a slight curve with random decks such as the one
hosting the pool jutting out in all directions.
“It’s gives me a bit of vertigo,” Fiona complained.
Maeve sniffed the air. “Whoa, that food smells divine.”
Fiona nodded. “Pumpkin spice meets cinnamon meets …? What is
that other smell, buttered popcorn?”
Maeve shrugged. “I think I smell meatballs.”
Wanda yapped excitedly.
There were two large tables on either side of the enormous deck
that was currently swarming with people. The food, Maeve learned,
were all samplings of what to expect in the upcoming season. She and
her mother made themselves a plate and found a seat on one of the
white table-cloth-draped tables near the railing.
“This is quite a view!” Fiona pointed. “You can see my old apart‐
ment from here.”
Wanda whimpered at Maeve’s feet, and Maeve slipped Wanda a
chicken skewer dripping in peanut satay sauce under the table.
Maeve silently wondered if peanuts were okay to give to a dog, but
the dog wolfed down the food so quickly, she wasn’t able to pull it
away.
“So, Mom, I was thinking …” Maeve said. “How long do you think
you’ll be in the states?”
“Not long, But I’ll come back next month … probably,” she said.
“My tour ends mid-month.”
Maeve smiled. “I have a spare room in Wisteria Pines. You should
come.”
“Two witches in a small-town?” Fiona asked, leaning in and wink‐
ing. “Sounds positively divine!”
“Awesome!” Maeve exclaimed. She hadn’t seen much of her
mother lately, and truth be told, her mother’s tour had come at a
rather pivotal point in Maeve’s life. She really needed her mom right
now. Her ex running off with some woman, her abrupt change in
location, and her sudden career change were all things she would have
liked to have had her mom around for.
Not to mention, now the police expected foul play regarding
Frank’s disappearance, and that had her conflicted on so many
different levels. Sometimes it was just nice to have your mom to talk
to – no matter how old you got.
“Fiona!” a man’s voice called. “I thought I recognized that face.”
My mom is more famous than I realized, Maeve thought with
amusement.
A handsome man strutted toward them, a woman on his arm. Her
mom stood to greet him, so Maeve did the same. Her mother intro‐
duced the man as Edgar, the show’s producer, and the woman on his
arm was his wife of fifteen years. While standing there talking to
Edgar and his wife Laura, Maeve learned that they’d met on set
during the show’s tenth season – Laura had been a new hire for the
show. The next thing Maeve knew, they were talking to her mother
about coming back and doing another episode.
“Oh, absolutely!” Fiona said, and she and the producer hugged
before he and his wife disappeared back into the crowd of partygoers.
After enjoying their food, and feeding Wanda way too much, the
two women mingled. She couldn’t get over how Wanda refused to eat
dog food, like she was a picky human. Maeve was happy to schmooze
with the Hollywood elite. She hadn’t given any thought to her song‐
writing in a while and being in the mix in LA, gave her a creative
boost.
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