Deadly Notions - By Elizabeth Lynn Casey Page 0,13
go back into her dorm room and sit for a few minutes before we could leave.”
“Oh.”
“From what she did share though, she had an appointment earlier today that virtually inked some deal she’s been working on for months. She wasn’t ready to divulge details yet but said she’d show me as soon as the labels were done.”
“Labels?”
“I don’t know. I tried to ask but she prattled on about taking the pageant world by storm.”
“What’s her company called again?”
“Spotlight Fashions. At least for now. That’s apparently one of the changes she’s making in conjunction with whatever this new acquisition is.”
She pondered his words. “Sounds neat. Did you . . . did you tell her about us?” The second the words were out she regretted them, the overall question—coupled with the slight tremble to her voice—making her seem more than a little pathetic. “You know what? Scratch that. It doesn’t matter.”
“Hey. Slow down a minute.” Ever so gently he scooted her forward then turned her to face him. “Of course I told her about you. We were there to catch up on each other’s lives and you, Tori Sinclair, are a huge part of my life.”
Reaching up, she traced the side of his face with her hand. “Thank you. I needed that more than you can know.”
“We all need to hear the truth.” He jerked his head toward the coffee table as dimples carved holes in his cheeks. “And we all need chocolate, yes?”
She laughed. “Wow, I’ve really trained you well, haven’t I?”
“Never better.” Grabbing the bag, he pulled it onto his lap. “So tell me more about this party. The swing really went over well?”
“It was a huge hit.” She took the piece of brownie he held out to her and popped it in her mouth. “Though, as the party wore on, I couldn’t help but think the rope was a mistake.”
He looked a question at her as she rushed to explain. “I was afraid it might make things a little too tempting.”
“Things?” he asked around a bite of brownie.
“Strangulation, for starters.”
He choked on his dessert. “Come again?”
“It’s top on Margaret Louise’s method of choice at the moment.”
“Method of choice for what?”
She stuck her hand into the bag and broke off another piece, the promise of chocolate far stronger than her willpower. “Don’t you mean for whom?”
“Okay, sure . . .” Milo paused with his second helping mere inches from his mouth. “Wait. Does this have to do with Ashley Lawson?”
“You remembered.”
“How could I not? After hearing how stressed Melissa’s been getting ready for this party, it’s hard not to remember. Though, in all fairness, I have to believe she took it a bit far. I know this woman has a reputation for being a little overbearing, but to be as over-the-top as Melissa said? It’s hard to imagine.”
“Have you spoken to her?”
“Not directly. But Penelope is only in kindergarten.”
She swiveled her body to afford a better look at Milo. “See, I thought the same thing in the beginning. You know, that Melissa and the rest of them had to be exaggerating a little where this woman was concerned.”
“And now?”
“And now I know they weren’t. In fact, they may have understated things.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“I can. And I am.” Grabbing the bag from his hands, she peered inside, the remnants of the brownie nothing more than mere crumbs. Her lower lip jutted over her top lip. “I think I liked it better when you were wary of chocolate.”
He made a face. “So Margaret Louise wants to strangle this woman, eh?”
She looked into the bag again, her finger chasing crumbs across the bottom of the sack. “She does. But so does Melissa, and Beatrice, and Rose, and Dixie, and Caroline Rowen, and Samantha Smith.”
His laugh echoed around the living room of his modest two-bedroom cottage. “And you? Where do you fall in all of this?”
“It would be unkind to the rope.” She held up her hands and gave her head a little shake. “I’m kidding, really . . . but I have to tell you, Milo, this woman is mean personified.”
“That bad, huh?”
“And then some.” She set the bag on the coffee table and snuggled into the crook of Milo’s arm, the warmth of his body making her eyes heavy. “Her boss, Regina Murphy, showed up toward the end of the party. Just to help collect the dress-up costumes Ashley insisted on bringing to the party. Did Ashley appreciate it? No. Yet the woman still seemed to be her biggest champion, casting