medication used to kill Louisa Ralston had made her feel obligated to remain by my side.
For now, she was ensconced in one of the red club chairs playing tug-of-war with Angus. They were using his favorite blue-and-white braided rope toy, and it was hard to tell which of them was enjoying the game more. I had gotten some new metallic flosses in and decided to take this opportunity to set up a display for them on the counter.
I was ten minutes into my task when the bells above the door jingled, heralding the arrival of Carrington Ellis. He wore a navy pin-striped suit with a crisp white shirt, black wing-tip shoes, and a black fedora.
“Good morning, ladies,” he said.
“Good morning,” I said.
“Don’t you look dapper?” Mom said. “You remind me of a young Cary Grant.” She released the toy, and Angus took it and trotted over to lie by the window in the sun.
“Thank you so much. He’s my namesake.” He grinned and inclined his head. “But rather than naming me Archibald Leach Ellis—thank heavens—Mother named me Carrington Grant Ellis.”
Mom laughed. “How delightful!”
“Thank you.” He took a seat on the sofa facing away from the window, removed his hat, and placed it on the coffee table. “You speak as if you’re a fan of Mr. Grant.”
I quickly finished the floss display and joined Cary and Mom in the sitting area.
“I am a fan,” Mom said. “Grant, Grace Kelly, Audrey Hepburn—I love all the icons of old Hollywood glamour.”
“So do I,” Cary said. “In fact, you looked as if you may have been channeling Grace Kelly yourself last night. You looked very elegant. And, Marcy, I’d say you reminded me of Audrey Hepburn in a Givenchy LBD.”
“Wow,” Mom said, “I’m impressed with your fashion knowledge. How many men would know LBD for little black dress , much less that Givenchy was a popular designer for Audrey Hepburn?”
I was wondering if Cary might be gay.
Cary laughed. “Thank you. Wait a second—Beverly Singer. Are you the Beverly Singer? The Queen of Claremont costume designer?”
“I am.”
“Oh, you’re absolutely brilliant. You made Gloria Padget look wonderful as Queen Victoria.”
Mom laughed. “No easy task, I assure you.”
Cary and I laughed, too. Gloria Padget had been one of Mom’s first “divas.”
“How do you know so much about fashion and costuming?” Mom asked.
“It’s what I do,” Cary said. “I own a boutique. I once aspired to be a fashion designer myself, but I simply didn’t have the talent. I can, however, recognize talent and appreciate beauty. I carry a lot of designers’ clothing, both known and new.”
“I’d love to check it out,” I said. “Where’s your shop?”
“It’s only about thirty minutes away from here. It’s called Carrington’s.” He reached into his breast pocket and handed me a business card. “I have something else for you, too.” He took out an envelope. “Here is some information I was able to pull together on Millicent Connor, Aunt Louisa’s great-grandmother, to go along with the sampler. As for Aunt Louisa herself, why don’t I give the two of you a tour of her home so you can learn all about her yourselves?”
“I’d love that,” I said. “And I know you would, Mom. Mrs. Ralston’s house is beautiful.”
“How’s this?” Cary went on. “What if I take the two of you to dinner this evening and on to the house after we’ve finished dining?”
“That would be far too great an imposition,” I said.
“It certainly would not,” Cary said. “It would give me the opportunity to pick one of the greatest brains in Hollywood costume design today.”
Mom beamed. “It’s settled, then. What time should we be ready?”
Vera Langhorne came into the shop minutes after Cary Ellis had driven away in his black Mercedes. She sniffed the air. “I smell men’s cologne. It smells great . . . a Ralph Lauren scent, maybe?” She smiled at me. “Which of your admirers has been
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