The Killing League

23.

Nicole

“So I want to hear all about it,” Tristan said, as they organized themselves on the trail. They always followed the same formation. Tristan on the right, Nicole in the middle, and Sal on Nicole’s left.

“It went far better than I would have ever dreamed,” Nicole said. “But being a bit of a perfectionist—”

“You? No way!” Tristan said with a grin.

“There were a few things I thought we could have done much better,” Nicole said.

“Geez,” Tristan said. “It was the first night, you’re going to have a few kinks to work out, you had to expect that.”

“Absolutely,” Nicole said. “And there were actually far fewer snafus than I was expecting.”

“Okay,” Tristan said. “Why don’t you start with all the things that went right, and save the areas of improvement for the end?”

Nicole laughed and filled Tristan in on all of the wonderful things said about Thicque’s entrance into the Los Angeles dining scene. She talked about the abundance of enthusiastic comments on the food, the ambience, the service, and the wine list. The restaurant had gotten rave reviews from nearly every food critic who’d dined at Thicque.

Nicole talked about the teamwork apparent in her staff, how everyone worked well together and maintained an efficient, positive atmosphere throughout the course of the night.

“Any word from the Review Nazis?” Tristan asked.

Nicole knew her friend was referring to the legendary power of one or two restaurant critics in the Los Angeles area. One in particular from the L.A. Times, who had yet to publish her review Thicque.

“Not yet,” Nicole said. “But Jay spoke briefly with a couple of his connections and it sounded like there would be at least one positive review coming, possibly from you know who at the Times.”

Nicole felt Sal jerk slightly on the leash, and she glanced down at him. His ears were up and pointed forward.

“As long as the bulk of the reviews are positive, as they have been, you’re golden,” Tristan said. “Then if you ever do get something negative, people will just ignore it and assume the reviewer has poor taste. And then I’ll hunt them down and shoot them,” she said.

Nicole loved her friend’s loyalty even though she knew she was kidding. She glanced down at Sal. His ears were back in their normal position and Nicole patted him on the head.

“So, where are you meeting Kimberley for drinks?” Nicole said. She sometimes lived vicariously through Tristan and Kimberley — they frequently went to the hottest clubs in L.A., the fringe places that attracted the hipsters and celebrities. They were the kind of places that Nicole never went to.

“Kimberley found this place—”

A deep growl emanated from Sal’s chest and Nicole stopped abruptly.

“What—” Tristan started to say.

“Sal…” Nicole said.

Occasionally, they would meet other people on the trail, but Sal usually never growled.

Nicole and Tristan came to an abrupt stop and stood in silence, listening. Sal’s ears were pointed, and he was turned slightly to the left, looking behind them.

Through the leash, Nicole felt the energy vibrating off the big dog.

Nicole heard a whisper of movement as Sal took a cautious step further to the left. And back.

Nicole’s body tensed.

She had definitely heard something.

And whatever it was, it was behind them.