Killer Cocktail Read Online Free PDF Page B

derailed by the semigrand appearance of a brunette beauty with her breasts barely corralled within a neckline that made Cassady’s look tame. As she leaned over to kiss Jake, all I could think was, Avalanche!
    Lara, surprisingly, did not interrupt as the woman and Jake exchanged a disconcertingly sloppy kiss. She simply moved her hand, holding the fork, under the table.

    “I didn’t realize tongue was on the menu,” Cassady said, not as quietly as she might have.
    What tender piece of meat Lara speared with the fork I can only imagine, but Jake sat up rather abruptly, nearly knocking his new visitor over as he wrenched his mouth away from hers.
    “Hello, Veronica,” Tricia called with forced brightness.
    “Hello, Tricia!” Veronica cooed. She leaned over again and for a terrible moment, I thought she was going to chew on Tricia for a while, but Tricia turned her cheek so all Veronica kissed was air.
    Lara placed the fork back on the table and Jake wiped his mouth with his napkin while Tricia made gracious introductions. Veronica Innes was an actress who had done a short film with Jake last year—an “experimental deconstruction of the musical experience” that Jake said led him to develop his wordless cinema theory. Didn’t say much for the songwriting, I thought. Or for Veronica’s singing. Now, she was Lisbet’s understudy off-Broadway My concern for the quality of the play increased immensely.
    “I love your work!” Veronica gushed when Tricia identified me.
    I resisted sneering at Jake and thanked her. “I’m afraid I haven’t seen yours.”
    “Sure you have.” Holding her arms parallel to each other, Veronica framed her bust. “Victoria’s Secret. Mainly the underwire styles.”
    “Wise choice,” Cassady nodded.
    “Play your assets where you find them, girlfriend,” Veronica said. “It’s a waste, otherwise.”
    “A very generous outlook,” Cassady replied.
    “Veronica’s a generous girl,” Jake leered.
    Lara reached for something and I was ready to hand her
the fork myself, but she grabbed the digital camcorder off the table instead, aiming it at Jake and Veronica. “How interesting when ancient, dried-up paths cross again. Let me take a picture of old friends.”
    Veronica didn’t appreciate being characterized as an “old” anything, it was clear, but she still kicked on the smile for the camera. She leaned in and I wasn’t sure if she was going to kiss Jake, Lara, or the camera, but I knew I didn’t want to see it.
    This pivotal moment in cinematic history was interrupted by Aunt Cynthia announcing that we should adjourn to the great room for dessert and digestifs. Tricia, Cassady, and I almost scaled over the backs of our chairs in search of more entertaining company.
    The great room, despite its elegant decor, could be pressed into service as a town hall in the event of a civic disaster. The outside wall was a series of floor-to-ceiling French doors that provided a heart-stopping look at the ocean without completely distracting you from the crystal chandelier that glowed overhead or the Monet above the fireplace.
    The combo moved inside with us and shifted to the dance section of their playlist. A few new arrivals drifted in, mainly guys who looked to be buddies of David’s who had underestimated the time it would take to drive down from the city and had missed dinner. That swelled the ranks of guests to about fifty, with even more people expected to join in over the course of the weekend.
    Glasses of champagne were distributed to all in preparation for toasts by Mr. Vincent and others, but the glasses quickly were supplemented by entire bottles, all bearing the label of the upstate vineyard Aunt Cynthia had acquired as a parting gift from ex-husband number two.

    “Richard and Davey must have found the cellar keys,” Tricia said.
    “Your aunt doesn’t seem to mind,” I pointed out, watching Aunt Cynthia work the room and encourage people to partake.
    “She believes