Newlywed Dead by Nancy J. Parra

Author:Nancy J. Parra
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2016-05-03T07:00:00+00:00

* * *

I met Toby at the country club at noon. The parking lot was full. The valet took Old Blue and hurried away with it. I tried not to think of the incongruity of my big ancient Buick at a ritzy country club. Toby waited for me near the entrance. He cleaned up well when he put effort into it. It was pretty clear he’d taken my advice. His hair was neatly trimmed and I swear there was product in it. His face was clean-shaven. His suit was clearly Armani, but the expensive dress shirt underneath held a hint of the wrinkles that Toby usually dressed with. I was glad to see he hadn’t cleaned up too much.

“Hi,” I said, and brushed a kiss on his cheek. “You look nice.”

“I had my assistant make me a salon appointment and pick out the clothes,” he said, and ran his finger around his collar. “I thought when you earned enough money you didn’t have to wear a tie anymore. Unless you were negotiating venture capital.”

I smiled and patted his cheek as he opened the door for me. “Think of this as a venture opportunity that might establish the foundation for your future family.”

He nodded. “As I’ve indicated in the past, the only reason to marry is to leverage fortunes for your children and their children to come.”

“So romantic,” I muttered as the hostess asked for the name.

“Toby Mallard. I have a reservation for two,” Toby said.

“Ah, yes, Mr. Mallard, so nice to see you again. We have your table ready for you. This way, please.” The hostess was a tall woman of Eastern European descent. She was thin with high cheekbones and slanted eyes. Her blond hair was piled effortlessly on her head and she wore a designer white shirt and black wool skirt. Her shoes flashed red on the soles. I wondered who made enough money as a hostess to wear Christian Louboutin shoes. “As per your standing order, this is our finest lunch table,” she said, and waited for Toby and me to sit. I paused for a moment to see if Toby would pull out my chair. He didn’t even notice and sat down immediately, grabbed his napkin off the table and stuffed it in his shirt collar like a bib.

I sat and tried not to look the hostess in the eye. She didn’t seem to blink as she handed us our menus.

“Alexander will be your waiter today,” she said. “Bon appétit.”

“The last time I was here, the service was fine but the meal was a bit goopy,” Toby said from behind his menu.

“I assure you sir, the cook would not serve you anything goopy,” the waiter said as he reached our table in time for Toby’s comments.

“Yes, well, we’ll see about that, won’t we?” Toby said, and lowered the menu long enough to look the waiter in the eye.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Mallard, I didn’t realize you were our guest today. Welcome back. Can I get you something to drink?” the waiter asked, appearing contrite once he realized who he was serving.

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