Page 33 of Macaron Massacre
She offers a forlorn smile. “I do feel closer to him.”
The door chimes, and Meg buzzes in with her workout gear on, black yoga pants and matching black jacket that clings to her skin.
“I’m heading off to work.” She kisses Mom on the cheek. “Lot, load me up with a box of everything. I’m doing my couples’ class in a few hours. You should really bring your boyfriends and join in on the fun.”
Mom smacks her on the arm. “Lottie does not have boyfriends. She has just the one.” She backs up a notch to get a better look at me. “Now, which one are you seeing again?”
“Mother.” I wrinkle my nose as I look to my sister. “Do you really think Noah, Everett, and I would benefit from this couples’ counseling thing of yours?”
“Let’s just say I’m solely responsible for patching up more than my fair share of damaged unions, and the word is getting out. The class has grown from a handful of couples to more than ten per class. And I have three classes filled each week. Red Satin lets me use a space in the Jungle Room. Let’s just say that kinky place has gotten some serious business off my clients alone.”
“I bet.” And kinky is right. The Red Satin Gentlemen’s Club houses more than its fair share of shady business in the back, and below deck. It wouldn’t surprise me at all to learn they’re thinking of adding another level just to keep up with their crooked dealings.
A thought comes to me. “Do you think Claret Dallas will be there tonight?”
Meg makes a face at the mention of her name. “That walking disaster acts as if she owns the place.” She gives a sly look around as she leans in. “Her ex-boyfriend does.”
“Louie the Lion?”
“You know about Louie? Boy, Lottie, you really are good.”
Keelie pops up behind me and crushes me with a firm embrace. “You bet my best friend is good. She’s the best. Where are we off to?”
Mom scoops a cookie out of the box I just whipped up for Meg. “Red Satin. The Jungle Room.” A rumbling laugh escapes her. “I still cherish my time with Brad.”
“Don’t you dare double dip in those raunchy Rutherford waters. Besides, both you and Carlotta are through with that venereal-diseased flea bag.”
“Speaking of which”—my mother cinches her purse over her shoulder—“Carlotta has decided to help with Mayor Nash’s campaign.”
Meg snorts. “Funny you should say that. I’ve hopped on the Scott Dushane bandwagon. As of this afternoon, I’m an official volunteer. I’d hate to be associated with a killer.” She gives a sly wink to our mother.
Mom grunts as if Meg just kneed her in the gut, and I’m sure the political treason was just as painful.
“Never mind that.” She’s quick to brush off my sister’s opposing views. “I’m hosting a mixer for Mayor Nash’s voters at the B&B on Saturday—and, of course, there will be a debate held between the candidates.”
“But that’s the day of Lainey’s bridal shower.” Proof she’s lost her mind. She’s so blinded by lust she can’t think straight anymore.
“I’m perfectly capable of hosting two events that afternoon.” Her tone is curt as she plucks her keys out. “Lottie, double my order for the bridal shower, and I’ll have plenty for both events. Same with the Honey Pot, Keelie. And make sure there are plenty of hummus and olive canapés. I just love those!” She twitches her fingers at us as she jets out the door.
Keelie snaps up a handful of raspberry macarons, her favorite flavor I’m guessing. “What time in the Jungle Room?”
“Seven,” Meg answers. “But you’ll need a man. I’d ask Lottie if she was willing to part with one, but I have a feeling I know the answer.” She takes the box and drops a wad of bills into the tip jar.
Since I’ve never taken a red cent from my sisters, they’ve made it a practice to feed my tip jar. I think I need to make a habit out of taking the jar away while they’re visiting.
“I don’t need one of Lottie’s men. I’ve got my own.” Keelie folds her arms across her chest with pride. “Bear Fisher and I are official.”
Meg chuckles. “Still one of Lottie’s men.”
“You can have that one,” I’m quick to inform her.
Meg takes off with a wave. “Get there a little early and we’ll talk to the perp!”
“She’s not a perp,” I say it low as my sister heads out the door.
Keelie butts her shoulder against mine. “Hey, Lot? Have you noticed a pretty brunette hanging around the area lately? Super secretive, never comes in? I’m getting the feeling she’s watching someone.”
My mouth falls open. “Yes, it’s a woman who’s been asking for Everett.”