An Exclusive Dining Experience

Part 3: Murder Mystery Masquerade

It isn't until the invitation came via my mother two days later that I understood what Antonio had meant when he said to "look for the phantom." She'd slipped the crisp envelope under the door of my apartment while I was at work. I'd almost stepped on it before I realized it was there.

Now as I look at it, I run my hand over the thick paper, feeling the quality before breaking the red wax seal. I smile fondly at the raised lettering and read the top.

Catalina Thoreau is invited to

Illiana's Theme Dinner

Phantom of the Opera Murder Mystery Masquerade

April 10, 5pm

My smile thins. A masquerade. He'd have his face covered. I might as well just bring the blindfold. I squelch the feeling of disappointment almost as fast as it had come. I'd still get to see him. I would be able to tell how tall he was. Maybe I could even see him cook. The thought fills my chest with warmth. I imagine watching his hands moving over a stove or a grill, watching his face as he carried out his passion.

To prepare for the event, I rent a gold silk and velvet French gown from the costume shop a few miles from my home. It has a giant bow just below the butt in place of a bustle and a ruffly, multi-layer skirt. There are no sleeves and the lacey collar spreads wide and rests on my arms instead of my shoulders. I'd picked a simple scrolling butterfly mask that fits across my eyes. After I curl my hair and put on some makeup, I'm ready to go.

Driving myself to the dinner in this outfit is a bit of a chore. I have to hold my skirts in front of my face just to close the door and dig to find both sides of the seat belt. My satin slippers slide on the petals and I have to lean forward to keep from crushing and frizzing my curls.

In the end, I make it to the mall restaurant mostly un-rumpled. Tiffany takes my invitation at the door and announces my name with a wink. She's wearing a half-moon mask and a dress with a thick skirt that looks out of place against the registry tablet in her hand.

There are a few people behind me and several already being seated. Most of the women who aren't are fussing with coats on chairs and finding places to stash their purses. I'd sent my money ahead with mom earlier in the day so that I could slip my necessary items into the folds of my outfit and not have to worry about a cumbersome purse or handbag. Thankfully this thing came with well-hidden pockets.

I don't sit right away. Instead I make my way to a wall and observe the decorations. I feel like a masquerade or a murder mystery dinner would be perfectly acceptable, but I'm not sure about the idea of throwing them together.

The tables are set up in little horseshoe shapes so that all the attendants can face each other and discuss who might have done it. There are role sheets on each table setting and a live string quartet band in the corner. The places are set up for a three course dinner with multiple drinking glasses and individual name tags. Each table group seems to be localized with their own murder to solve. While I still wonder how well these two themes smashed together, I'm not entirely here for the festivities.

I look towards the kitchens for my food phantom.

He's probably busy cooking.

I probably won't even get to see him until after the event.

I think of the movie production where Christine returned to her dressing room to find a single rose adorned with a black ribbon and wonder if I'll be left with a mint chocolate square. Movement to my left catches my attention and my eyes suddenly find him. He's standing at the edge of the room in front of the curtained doors that lead into the exclusive dining room.