Free Lucky Flash: A Lucky O'Toole Novella (The Lucky O'Toole Vegas Adventure Series) by Deborah Coonts Page B

was a bird in the hand, so to speak, that he would put his energy and charm to other uses, leaving me in the shadows?   He was a man of intense passions and driving ambition.   His son first, then his restaurants and me.   Could I be happy with that?
    Jean-Charles fell quiet and raised an eyebrow.   “Where did you go?”
    “I’m sorry.   What did you ask?”
    “Have you reviewed the guest list for the opening?”
    “Not yet.”
    “Invitations need to go out in a few days.   We only have three weeks.”
    “I’ll do it when I get to the office.   The calligrapher is waiting for them.”
    He refilled my flute, which I hadn’t been aware of draining.   “I do have something to tell you.”  
    Something in his tone made me pause. I really hate it when people do that to me.   It’s like they’re priming me for good news, only to cut my legs out from under me.   When she’s not felled by twins, my mother was a master.   “Okay.”  
    “Why do you say it that way?   Like you are holding a shield.”
    “If you have good news, why don’t you just tell me?   When you set me up like that I think it’s only to deliver bad news.”
    Jean-Charles shook his head.   “Sometimes I do not understand you.”
    “Yeah, me either.”   I took a sip of bubbles, holding it in my mouth, trapping the air, feeling it expand, then drinking it down like cotton candy.
    “Holt Box is going to be my guest sous chef.”
      “Whoa!   You mean the hottest former star in the country music scene that, if the rumor mill is correct, is considering ending his retirement?   That Holt Box is going to be cooking for the party?”
    “And serving.”
    I gave him the slanty eye.   “And what’s the downside?”
    My chef gave me his patented Gallic shrug, the one I found almost irresistible. “He likes to cook.   He likes my food.   There is no downside, as you say.”
    “He asked?” I didn’t try to hide my skepticism.
    “It is this simple.”
    “No money?”  
    “ Oui.”
    “Wow.”
    “Yes, this.   Wow.”
    We were staring at each other, my thoughts wandering from the conversation to something even more delicious when I felt someone elbow me.   “I knew you’d be here.”   Romeo slid onto the stool next to me.   “May I have a Wild Turkey and tonic, hold the tonic,” he asked the bartender.
    I pretended to be happy to see him.   I wanted no part of his investigation.   What I wanted was a piece of my chef, for the weekend, which technically I had off. “No detective points for you—I’m not hard to find.”  
    “True.”   Romeo took a sip of his drink.   He pretended to like it, but his eyes watered, exposing him.  
    Jean-Charles gave me a wink as he handed the brave detective a glass of water.   “Wait until you are a hard man before you go for the hard stuff,” he said.
    Romeo gave me a wide-eyed look, managing to keep a straight face.
    “Nope, I’m not going to hit that one out of the park,” I said.   “Be my guest.”
    “Not touching it.”
    Jean-Charles looked first at me, then Romeo.   He wanted an explanation.   I wasn’t going to give him one.   Not when I couldn’t have a hands-on demonstration.
      “So apparently you have a reason that you are looking for me?”   I asked Romeo, ignoring the quizzical look on Jean-Charles’s face.  
    “I’d sure like to find out if that ring has been out of the case lately.   Maybe on loan or something?”
    “I know just the person who can help.”   I chugged my remaining Champagne, making Jean-Charles grimace at the disrespect.   “What’d you do with Johnny Pismo?”
    “A friend bailed him out.”
    “Really?   Johnny Pismo has a friend?   Who?”
    Romeo fixed me with an unreadable stare.   “Busta’ Blue.”
    “You let him take him?”
    This time Romeo’s look was pure innocence.   “Who was I to say no?”

    The warmth of Jean-Charles’s kiss still lingered as I pushed through the office door, the young