In The Game (Virginia Kelly Mystery Book 1) by Nikki Baker

Author:Nikki Baker [Baker, Nikki]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, murder mystery, Lesbian, Chicago (Ill.), Virginia Kelly
Publisher: ReQueered Tales
Published: 2020-01-14T06:00:00+00:00

XII

Lunch with Susan turned out to be quite a production. I had never been to Ramone’s and when I walked in I knew why. My idea of lunch is some greasy spoon under the El tracks or Popeye’s Fried Chicken where I’m not ashamed to say I eat. I steal off every once in a while to the Popeye’s off Dearborn in the Loop to get my two-piece dinner with a biscuit and Cajun rice, sitting with the other well-heeled grease addicts on the stools by the window with a premium view of the dumpsters in the alley. I eat fast and regret my selection for the rest of the day, popping Rolaids like candy now that the Irishman has made my stomach a cantankerous organ.

If I want to go to a nice lunch, it’s that fem bar where I took Em, but that’s about as nice as it gets. Ramone’s was in a different league and I was starting to get the message, so was Susan in a lot of ways. It wasn’t just for the prices, although those helped. It was the private elevator from the street level down to a dining room where everyone was dressed like a maitre d’.

Susan was waiting for me in one of her Barbara Stanwyck power suits. She took my hand with a firm grip, and managed to successfully select the actual maitre d’, who was standing behind a little podium, from among the collection of about a million ordinary waiters. If I’d been her date, I would have been impressed. She walked close behind one of our waiters to the table as if she ate there a lot. Maybe she did – she had managed to get a booth in a dark corner which I took to be something of a coup. The waiter pulled the table out and Susan watched while I slid in first. The waiters, of which there were at least three, hovered and fawned. Susan leaned towards the pretty-boy taking the orders as if they were girlfriends.

She listened to the specials and ordered for me without asking what I wanted. I thought I could use a beer, but Susan had ordered a bottle of California Chardonnay before I could open my mouth. I was so angry I couldn’t speak. That was fine, as Susan had clearly planned to do the talking. She started with pleasantries, leaning too close and patting my hand so often that she was almost stroking it.

“So how are you doing?” she said, as the waiter brought around the wine. “I feel like we haven’t really talked in a while.”

The waiter opened the bottle and put the cork down by her place. Then he stood at attention while Susan rolled the wine around in her glass and her mouth for a while. He filled her glass and mine and then went away.

“I’ve really missed you,” Susan went on, “but I guess I’ve said that already.”

I wondered if the waitstaff standing at her elbow had heard it too, but Susan ignored them.

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