Deadly Notions - By Elizabeth Lynn Casey Page 0,70
tried to make him see what she’s doing but he refuses to accept it. He simply doesn’t believe that someone he once cared about is a—is a—”
“Conniving little hussy?”
She had to laugh at Leona’s description. “Yeah, okay, though I’m not sure I’d have chosen those same words.”
“Well, that’s the difference between you and me, dear. I call a spade a spade when necessary.”
“That doesn’t sound like a very belle thing to do.”
“When a belle’s man is being manipulated, it most certainly does.”
“Oh.” She pulled the bread bowl closer to her spot and considered its various options. After a quick once-over she selected a pumpernickel roll.
“That, dear, is going straight to your thighs.”
Her hand stilled mid-tear. “It’s bread, Leona.”
“And, eventually, it will end up on your thighs as cellulite. So, too, will that steak you ordered with the cactus butter glaze.” Leona sighed dramatically. “And don’t get me started about the chocolate concoction we both know you’re going to try and order when dinner is over.”
She swallowed back the futile attempt at denial. “Come on, Leona, look at me.” She pointed at the part of her body visible over the top of the table. “I’m a long way away from being worried about my weight.”
Leona nodded, her eyes following Tori’s hand as she lifted a piece of bread to her lips. “I remember when my sister used to say that same thing.”
Tori dropped the bread onto the plate. “Margaret Louise is beautiful.”
“If you can discount all that—extra weight.”
“Leona!”
“Don’t shoot the messenger, dear.”
Tori stared at the piece of bread on her plate, her mind warring with the need to drown her sorrows in yeast and the desire to be proactive with her health. In the end the yeast won out despite the rise in Leona’s eyebrow. “I’m sorry, I need it. It’s been a long day.”
The waitress stopped beside their table and doled out the correct plates—steak for Tori, a grilled chicken salad for Leona. After checking to make sure they had what they needed, she disappeared once again, leaving them to the conversation at hand.
“So what do I do? He isn’t ready to listen.” She guided her knife through the steak, the sight of the melting cactus butter making her mouth water. “Oh, this looks really, really good, doesn’t it?”
Leona rolled her eyes skyward. “I’ve already voiced my opinion on your order. As for Milo, there’s only one thing to do, dear.”
She took a bite of steak, savoring the taste as it slid down her throat. “What’s that? Scratch Beth’s eyes out?”
Leona stopped picking at her salad long enough to level an exasperated look in Tori’s direction. “Let’s leave the eye scratching to that little hussy, shall we?”
She paused mid-chew. “Then what do you propose?”
“First? That you don’t speak with your mouth full.”
Tori felt her face warm.
“Second? You don’t let her win.”
“What am I supposed to do? Lock Milo in a closet every time she calls with another dilemma?
Leona narrowed her eyes. “That could work . . .”
“Leona! I’m not going to force Milo to do anything.”
“You’re right. Let’s save that for our last resort.” Leona grazed the top of her lettuce with the fork as she hunted for yet another piece of chicken among a sea of green. “I was thinking more along the lines of going with him when she tries her little games.”
“Oh, like she’s going to be happy about that.”
“Exactly.”
She studied her friend closely. “I don’t get—wait! I get it now! I accompany him back to the scene of the exaggerated fire, he looks around, sees everything is fine, and then we resume our time together.”
“And she’s been defeated.”
She’s been defeated.
Dropping her fork onto her plate, she pushed the half-eaten steak to the side. “You think that’ll work?”
Leona’s silk-clad shoulders rose and fell. “I don’t know. Time will tell. But at least you’ll be together which is what you want, isn’t it, dear?”
“It is.”
“Then we have a plan.” Leona made a second pass through her salad only to find a piece of chicken no bigger than her fingernail.
“That wouldn’t happen if you’d simply order a chicken entrée, Leona.” She laughed at the anticipated eye roll then leaned forward. “He asked if I wanted to come see him tomorrow after school.”
“What did you say?”
“My heart was talking at the time and it said I wasn’t sure.”
Leona pushed her salad bowl to the side in time to pluck a dessert menu from the arms of a passing waiter. Flipping it over, she pushed her glasses higher on her nose