Camilla T. Crespi - The Breakfast Club Murder (25 page)

“You have a great group of friends,” Jonathan said. “The breakfast club, right? Margot, Beth, Janet. That must have been a great help.”

“Yes, they are. You seem to know them all.”

“Not well. Janet I know from the flower shop. Margot’s dad and my dad did business together so we’d run into each other when we were kids. Now I bump into her at dinners. You know what that’s like. ‘Hi, what’s up? Things good for you? That’s great. Yeah, me, too. Couldn’t be better.’ You gulp down a few hors d’oeuvres and you move on to the next person.”

“I thought you know each other better than that.”

Jonathan shook his head slowly, a thin smile sliding across his mouth. God, was she sounding jealous? Lori filled her mouth with rosemary-crusted focaccia and chewed. “This is great food,” she said, not waiting to swallow.

With his napkin Jonathan wiped a crumb off her chin. “I know Beth better. I’ve bought a lot of art from her.” He was still smiling, damn him!

Their entrées arrived just in time. For Lori, tuna tartare, diced and mounded, crowned by two large ridged potato chips and a chive flower. The seafood salad of calamari, mussels, and shrimp that Jonathan had ordered was also piled in a neat mound, surrounded by a circle of small black
niçoise
olives and halved cherry tomatoes. She watched as Jonathan took a bite.

“Great,” he said, “but I’m going to reek of garlic.” Jonathan speared a few rings of calamari and offered them to her. “For self-protection.”

“Thanks, but I don’t need to do that.”

“I hope you do.”

Lori felt herself blush as she clasped his hand and bit into the morsel on his fork. The salad was delicious, with just the right amount of dressing. And it wasn’t that garlicky. “Now it’s your turn for story time,” she said as soon as she had swallowed.

Jonathan leaned back in his chair. “The Ashe saga is boring. The family’s been here long enough to have washed out whatever interesting characteristics they might have had originally back in England and Germany. The women have distinguished themselves, as was the custom, by bearing children, some of them dying in the process along with the children. The men, as far back as I know, have been lawyers.”

Lori thought there was a note of disdain in Jonathan’s voice. She dipped a forkful of tuna tartare in the creamy wasabi sauce on the side. “There’s nothing wrong with being a lawyer.” The wasabi sauce was so strong it made her tear.

“That’s right, you married one. The law is too rigid for me. Always having to look up precedents. And why does my family have an entire genealogical chart filled with lawyers? The only explanation I can think of is that when the nurse weighed an Ashe male newborn, something in his genes made him instantly relish the power of being able to tip the scales. As for the female babies, maybe listening to all those other sniffling, mewling newborns in the warmth of the nursery left them with a lifelong need to keep coming back to take care of them.”

Lori laughed. “You became a lawyer.”

“And my mother, who would much rather have been a lawyer, had me. We had no choice. As you know, I rebelled after five years at Rob’s firm. Real estate is much more fun.”

“Isn’t it a risky business?”

“That’s the part I like. Real estate allows me to be my own boss, to follow my gut. There’s a lot of excitement in not knowing when the next great deal is coming, but striving for it anyway.”

Lori thought of Rob not raising the five million for a quarter share of Westside Properties. “And when a deal falls through?”

Jonathan poured himself more wine, topped off Lori’s glass. “You lick your wounds and move on to the next possibility.”

Lori blurted out, “Why couldn’t someone as connected and successful as Rob raise five million?”

Jonathan raised his arms in the air as the waitress cleared the plates and brought their main course. They had both ordered roasted striped bass with chive and sour cream sauce accompanied by spicy potatoes and zucchini. “Why didn’t his rich wife help, that’s what I wonder.” He leaned toward Lori. “Let’s not talk about your ex on our first date, okay?”

His eyes were flecked with green, she noticed, and he had a small dent on one side of his mouth, a childhood scar perhaps. Lori fought the urge to smooth it out with her finger. “You’re right. The question just slipped out.”

Stay in the moment,
she told herself.
This handsome young man is interested in you. And you in him.
Lori forked a slice of zucchini. “What was your father like?”

“Rigid, indifferent to me. A man who saw no reason to connect to another human on anything except an intellectual or economic level. Emotions were for the female sex.”

“Your mother loved him very much.”

“She’s very much like him. Their brains loved each other. She didn’t like having to produce a child. I couldn’t exactly warm my hands at the fire of her love. I read that expression in some book, I think. It hits the spot where my mother is concerned.”

Lori didn’t quite believe that. She’d seen kindness in Mrs. Ashe. “She told me how your father brought flowers to her every Friday and how you keep up that tradition.”

“For him it was a ritual, nothing more.”

“You’re not anything like him, then.”

Jonathan bowed his head in her direction. “Thank you for the compliment.”

“Or her, if what you say about her is true.” Jonathan was open, warm, fun. Maybe too aware of the power of his charm and his looks, but who was she to judge? Lori couldn’t remember the last time she had turned a man’s head.

“The only truth I can offer,” Jonathan said, “is what is true for me.”

The tone of his voice made Lori look up and for the first time she saw regret in his face. “That goes for everyone, I think,” she said, curious to know what his regrets might be.

“Of course you’re right, but sometimes that truth isn’t something you want to share.”

“I agree.”

Jonathan said nothing. Lori started talking about movies she had seen, wanted to see, a safe conversation starter. Jonathan joined in. His good mood seemed to return and their conversation turned from films, to theater, to past and future trips. When Lori filled Jonathan in on the wonders of her trip to Italy, Alec Winters’s face intruded in her thoughts. “Tell me about your friend, Alec,” she said.

“No. I don’t want anyone breaking into our dance.”

He was like a kid, Lori thought, hungry for attention. Well, so was she. “Forget I asked.”

They finished the wine bottle, ordered hot brownies with vanilla ice cream for dessert. The dinner had been wonderful, she thought, made richer by that touch of regret that Jonathan had shown. He wasn’t just a handsome charmer, then. Regret gave him substance.

Walking to his car, Jonathan held her by the waist. She could feel the warmth of his hand seep through her blouse and camisole to her bare skin. It felt wonderful and yet her need embarrassed her. On the ride home, she made silly chitchat about her catering plans, about her garden.

Jonathan stopped the car in front of her house and before she could reach for the door handle, pulled Lori to him. He kissed her, this time with his hands cupping her breasts. A bolt of heat shot up between Lori’s legs. She heard herself moan.

Jonathan let her go. “I’d love some coffee.”

Lori nodded, not sure she could find her voice. As she fumbled to insert the key in her front door, Beth’s words dropped into her head. Afterward I felt like I’d had a junk meal, a McDonald’s burger and fries, scarfed down just to get rid of the craving.

It wouldn’t be like that for her. She wouldn’t let it be.

Jonathan closed the door behind them and took her face in his hands. “You are so lovely you are edible.” He started to munch on her ears. She pulled back and kissed his lower lip, his upper lip, his nose. She was so hungry for him that she could have flung herself on the rug and let him have her, but she wanted this first lovemaking with a man she barely knew to be slow, gentle, something to savor for days.

“You’re teasing me,” he whispered into her neck, slipping his hand inside the back of her slacks, pushing her against his chest.

“Uh-huh.”

With his lips sealed on hers, Jonathan led her toward the stairs.

Lori clasped her arms around him, to keep herself from falling backward. Oh, this was great, lovely, wonderful. She wanted to eat him up, too, but when had she last changed the sheets? Yesterday? A week ago? Should she steer him toward the sofa in the living room? Too late! Jonathan was lifting her up the first step.
Give into this, Lori, dirty sheets and all. Men never notice anyway.

Beethoven’s Fifth rang out when they hit the fourth step.

“Don’t answer,” Jonathan ordered.

Lori gasped for air, noticed her purse was still dangling from her arm. “It’ll only take a sec.” She reached in for her cell phone, flicked it open. “Hello?”

“Are you all right?”

Sweet Jess! What terrible timing. “Yes, yes, just a little out of breath. Look, hon, can I call you back later? I’m rushing out.”

“It’s eleven o’clock at night! Mom, is someone with you?”

Why couldn’t she have said she was taking a shower? “No one is with me, honey.” If she weren’t so horny, this would be funny. “Can I call you back?”

“Deuce kissed me,” Jessica said.

Lori sank down on the stairs and smiled apologetically at Jonathan. “I’m all ears, honey.”

Jonathan backed away. Lori motioned him to wait. He slowly shook his head, blew her a kiss, and gently closed the front door behind him.

Lori leaned against the banister and listened. Jess was in seventh heaven. That’s what mattered now.

“Oh, Mom, I’m having the best time,” Jessica said, summing up. “I love Cape Cod and Deuce is the coolest guy in the world.”

“I’m happy for you.”

’Night, Mom. Angie and I have to get up at five tomorrow. Deuce and his friend Tom are taking us on a hike.”

“Good night, sweetie.”

“Oh, Mom. Have the police found the murderer yet?”

“Not yet, but please don’t worry, Jess. I want you to have fun.”

“I wish I could help, Mom.”

“Maybe you can. When Valerie was taking you and Angie home, do you remember if she made or received a phone call?”

Jessica was silent.

“Yes? No? Hon, are you not free to talk?”

“I’m alone. Angie is playing gin rummy with Warren. She always wins.”

“Did Valerie make a call or receive one?”

“I slept most of the way back.”

“Ask Angie and let me know. Good night, sweetie. Please don’t worry. I’m so happy for you and, one day, I hope you’ll introduce me to Deuce.”

“Is it real important?”

“Yes. I want to meet ‘the coolest guy in the world.’ ”

“I mean the phone call. Is it important?”

“It could be.”

Jessica breathed loudly. “She did get a phone call, but you have to promise not to tell anyone.”

“Tell who? If anyone called, the police will already know about it.”

“Then why do you want to know?”

“Because I’m trying to make sense of what happened. It makes me feel better.”

“I promised not to tell.”

“That’s okay. Don’t break your promise. Good night. I’ll call you tomorrow. I love you.”

After Jessica hung up, Lori sat on the stairs thinking. Who did Jessica promise not to tell? Angie was the only other person with her in the car with Valerie. Who would Angie want to protect? Her mother? But if Margot had called, she was probably only wondering what time the kids were coming home. Warren? Why would he call Valerie?

Was Jessica trying to protect Rob?

Oh, to hell with this,
Lori thought, running up the stairs to the bathroom. She turned on the shower. Couldn’t Jonathan have waited? Why were men always in a rush? All right, she really only knew about one man. Rob had always been in a rush, wanting her to drop everything whenever he got a hard-on, assuming she was in the mood if he was. Well, she was in the mood tonight and going solo now would be too much of a letdown.

Lori undressed and looked at her naked body in the mirror. Could she still pass muster? Jonathan probably made love to twenty-year-olds, but tonight he’d wanted her. And then she had hurt his pride.

What had possessed her to answer the phone? Her worry about the sheets on the bed? His ordering her not to answer the phone? Or was she scared to take the plunge?

Once settled in bed, she called Jonathan. “I didn’t expect you to leave.”

“I didn’t expect you to answer the phone.”

“I’m sorry. It’s a compulsion of mine.” Why was she lying to him? “Look, my daughter has fallen in love for the first time. I couldn’t cut her off.”

“I understand perfectly.” He didn’t sound as if he did. Then he laughed. “Okay, I was pretty pissed and I had to go jogging around several blocks before I could make it home to Mother.”

“I took a cold shower.”

“What are you doing for the Fourth of July?” His voice was suddenly close to the phone.

Next Saturday? Something in her stomach fluttered. “Jess will still be in Cape Cod.”

“Good. Let’s go off somewhere for the weekend. Okay?”

“Aren’t all places booked by now?”

“If we can’t book a room anywhere, there’s always the Lori Corvino Inn.”

Lori hesitated. Two days and two nights to make love. Enticing. But what if it didn’t work out? How would she feel then? She’d never know if she didn’t try. “All right,” she said finally. This time she would make sure her sheets sparkled.

“Great. And now I have some news for you.”

“What is it?”

“Remember Ruth, Valerie’s cousin and office manager? The scandal Mother couldn’t remember?”

“Yes, of course, I remember.”

“Mrs. Sheridan, who was at the dinner last night, made a few phone calls to old friends and told my mother this evening.”

Lori sat up. “Told her what?”

The next morning, Lori got to Callie’s late for the Monday Breakfast Meeting. Her friends had already been served.

“Hi, everyone. I’m sorry.” She slipped into the corner booth next to Beth, who was wearing her jogging clothes. Lori had changed into jeans and Jess’s high school T-shirt at the gym. “My Pilates instructor was late, which meant we went over the hour and then I had to get gas and then I got a phone call from Alec Winters.” She’d had to put off calling Ellie to find out how her meal with Joey Pellegrino had gone.