How to Host a Killer Party Read Online Free PDF Page B

mayor’s.
    “Fine,” he said, straining his neck to see up the hill.
    She shook her head. “You didn’t even look!”
    Mayor Green turned to Ikea, put an arm around her, and gave her a peck on the cheek. “I’ve never seen you look more beautiful.”
    “Well, it won’t last if this fog keeps up. That cellblock better be heated.”
    I thought I saw a flash of irritation cross the mayor’s brow before he turned away. Moments later the tram pulled up in front of the cellblock. I hopped out, while Mayor Green helped Ikea from her seat. I made a sweeping gesture toward the large double-door entrance. The mayor took the cue, stepped forward, and pulled open one of the heavy doors, ushering Ikea inside. Chloe winked at me, I crossed my fingers, and we both followed them in.
    As Ikea entered, she smiled at the large but suddenly quiet group gathered in a semicircle in the cellblock hallway.
    “Well,” Ikea said, seemingly pleased at the turnout, “on behalf of the mayor and myself, we want to thank you all for coming tonight and helping with a great cause, uh . . .”
    She paused and looked at the mayor for a moment, who quickly spoke up.
    “The Alzheimer’s Association.”
    Ikea nodded and flashed her artificially whitened smile at the group. Several people in the crowd whispered to each other and giggled.
    Ikea turned to Mayor Green, looking puzzled. Looping her arm through his, I heard her whisper, “Darling? What’s . . .”
    She left the question unfinished as the mayor grinned at her in gleeful anticipation. He raised his champagne glass and the smiling crowd followed suit.
    “Surprise!” they all shouted.
    Ikea frowned deep enough to require Botox. She scanned the room, nearly teetering on her spiky heels, then turned back to Mayor Green. “I don’t understand. Davin, what’s this all about?”
    I cued the deejay to begin the “Wedding March.” The cheering crowd shuffled back against the cell bars, clearing a path down the middle of Broadway, as the minister stepped up to the portable altar set up at the end of the hall.
    Ikea blinked several times. Under her breath, her smile frozen on her pale face, she hissed, “Davin, what the hell is going on?” As she spoke, she slowly withdrew her arm from the mayor’s and nervously ran the finger of her right hand up and down the stem of the champagne flute.
    Mayor Green, still grinning like a teenager, took her diamond-studded left hand. “It’s our wedding, baby! I wanted it to be a surprise!”
    Ikea stared at the mayor, openmouthed.
    He raised his champagne glass. “So, are you surprised?”
    Her smile unwavering, she slowly lifted her champagne glass and faced the crowd. I held my breath, waiting for a shriek of joy or a prenuptial kiss. The music quieted, the attendees grew hushed. All eyes were on Ikea.
    For one quick moment she gave me a look I couldn’t read. Then she turned to the mayor and, with a twist of her wrist, flung the bubbly liquid into the mayor’s beaming face.
    “How could you!” she said, her eyes as sharp as prison-house shanks.
    The crowd gasped at the dramatic display as Ikea spun in her retro heels and stomped out of the cellblock, into the dark night. In the deadly silence that followed, I thought I heard a pin drop. The kind used to stick a voodoo doll.
    The deafening crash that followed was the sound of my career hitting the cellblock floor.

Chapter 4

    PARTY PLANNING TIP #4:
    You can spin even the most disastrous affair into a successful soiree by turning up the tunes, serving the snacks, and most of all, decanting the drinks.
    I picked up a black-and-white-striped paper napkin embossed with the words “Davin and Ikea—Locked Together Forever” and offered it to the mayor. He snatched it out of my hands, wiped the champagne off his face, and darted after his bolting would-be bride. Chloe shot me a frantic look, then dashed after him.
    I signaled to Raj to follow them. He saluted and tore out as if chasing an escaping