At Wits' End - Kenzie Reed Page 0,79

station. “What did Donovan send you?”

I hope I’m not blushing, but my cheeks feel hot. “Oh, the usual. Flowers, some lovely hardcover photography books of vineyards around the world, several bottles of wine from some of the most coveted vintages in Italy, boxes of chocolate…”

“Sexy lingerie for you to model in front of the computer…”

“Pamela! Do you have a spy-cam in my house?”

I can feel the blush now. My cheeks are practically on fire. God, I hope she doesn’t have a spy-cam. Donovan and I have been having daily video sex sessions. He’s been gone for two whole weeks now, because apparently things in L.A. were worse than he thought. He flew to Greece to make a surprise visit to meet with Constantine – and Constantine wasn’t there, because he was in San Francisco meeting with Donovan’s competitor. That was a bad day for Donovan.

She replies with an evil grin.

“No, I just know you’re still in that honeymoon phase where you’re doing it like rabbits.”

“Shut up!” I hiss.

“If rabbits wore sexy lingerie, that is,” she taunts me.

I try to pinch her arm, but she dodges me nimbly.

“Do you send him pictures of you all nakey?” She grins.

“I send him pictures of me jogging, because he still won’t let up on this stupid couples’ relay thing.” I’m changing the subject, but I’m also telling the truth.

“What a tyrant.”

“Well, it’s just as well that I start paying attention to my figure, now that I’m officially past my sell-by-date.” I sigh as we stand in the foyer waiting for the hostess. “I’ve left my twenties behind, Pamela. I’m an old maid. What if he stays in Los Angeles and runs off with a twenty-year-old starlet?”

“That’s definitely what’s going to happen.” Pamela rolls her eyes at me. “Wait, do people even say ‘starlet’ anymore? Oh wait. Yes. Old people say that.”

“I swear to God, woman, I will take all thirty of my birthday candles, light them, and shove them right up–”

I never get to tell her which orifice I’d violate.

“Hey, guys!” A chipper voice sings out. To my surprise, it’s Mia the wedding-wrecker. She’s got her waitress apron on, and she’s striding towards us with a tentative smile. “It’s the birthday girl! Happy birthday, Sienna. You totally don’t look old at all. Oh my God, I can’t believe I just said that. Listen, I’m sorry about the wedding thing. if you don’t want me to be your waitress, I understand. I can find someone else.”

“Oh, my mother’s actually going to be my waitress. But really, like I told Jonathon, I have no problem with you, Mia.” I lower my voice, since the fake-marriage thing, that turned into an extended bonkfest / possible-real-marriage thing, is technically a secret. “You know what the deal was with me and Jonathon, so you weren’t exactly busting up a star-crossed romance.”

She smiles shyly, hugging herself. “We’re, like, really into each other. I’m glad you’re okay with it. He told his mother about me, and she’s really mad, but he totally stood up for me. We’ve been travelling all over together. I just came home because it’s crazy busy here and Dad needed me. At the end of the summer, when the busy season’s over, I might move to California. He’s asked me to move in with him.”

I beam at her, genuinely happy. All the world loves a lover. “That’s so great!”

Mia grabs two menus from the hostess station. “Most of your family’s already waiting for you. Your mom’s not here, though. That’s why they have me as your waitress. She didn’t show up for her shift.”

That can’t be right. “But…we’ve been planning this for weeks. I mean, it’s my birthday, there’s no way she forgot. I should go to her apartment and make sure she’s okay.”

Mia clears her throat, looking pained. “My dad went there when she didn’t show, and he didn’t see anything wrong. He didn’t see her purse, and there were some clothes in the closet. Dirty dishes in the sink. Looks like maybe she went out for the day, or maybe the weekend.”

I stand there, the breath squeezing from my lungs. “Okay. I’ll, uh… I’ll go to my table in a minute. Can you just wait while I give her a call?”

“I need to seat these people. I’ll be right back.” Mia goes to greet an older couple, and I snatch my phone from my purse, my stomach clenching with worry.

The phone rings several times, then goes to voicemail. Then I call the winery, even though