Until We Meet Again

stone-faced, and watching every move I make. My throat tightens.

Am I being paranoid? Has knowing that I will be murdered

in a week made my brain turn everyone into a murderer?

Ned passes me a brandy, which I happily tip back. The warm,

spicy drink sizzles through me, calming my nerves a bit.

“Lon, I want you to meet Kip Hawkins.” Ned slaps his hand

on the shoulder of the slight man beside him and gives me an

overly jovial smile. “Jerome Smith couldn’t make it. Had some

business. You know how it goes.”

I nod, though I can’t help but feel the significance of this

apparent slight, and it puts me all the more on edge.

Kip Hawkins extends his hand with an oily smile. “Pleased to

make your acquaintance.”

“Lon here is the one I was telling you about, “Ned says,

beaming. “Has quite the promising career ahead. Top of his

class at prep school. And star of the basketball team too!”

“My uncle likes to exaggerate,” I say, forcing a smile.

Ned laughs. “Nonsense! Bright kid, our Lon. With a bright

future. College and law school, and once he’s done with that,

it’s straight to the top firm in New York. Business law. Just like

his old man.”

Kip Hawkins nods and smiles. “Excellent. Maybe you can

teach your uncle a thing or two.”

Ned laughs loudly—too loudly—at the comment. “Ain’t that

the truth? Yes, sir, this kid’s a champ. And a real catch with the

ladies. Good thing too, because, boy, did he get himself a prize

gal. Isn’t that right, Fay?”

My brow lowers, but I follow Ned’s outstretched hand. At

his gesture, a crowd of three men near the fireplace glance

over at us and then part. Fay is perched on one of the big,

burgundy armchairs, talking quite closely with a big, muscular fellow in his twenties with black hair and olive skin.

Italian, I think. When the men around them move, her eyes

snap to me.

Fay always looks beautiful, but tonight she’s dressed to kill in

a tight, red gown that cuts low on the top and rides high up her

slender legs. She takes a casual puff from a long, slim cigarette

holder. The smoke curls like a white snake from her scarlet red

lips. With a little smile, she hands the cigarette holder to the

muscular fellow she had been speaking with. He doesn’t take

his eyes off her.

“Why, hello, Lonnie,” she says, her voice more sultry

than usual.

Ned laughs again and slaps Kip Hawkins on the back. “What

did I tell you? Have you ever seen such a sweet little honey as

that one?”

Fay rises fluidly from her chair. Without moving her gaze

from mine, she glides across the room toward us. Every man

here watches her. And how could they not? She positively

oozes allure.

“Your nephew really is a cad,” she says to Ned, coming to his

side and linking arms with him. “He’s been so busy studying

lately. What’s a lonely girl like me to do?”

My face feels hot. Suddenly I wonder if this wasn’t Ned’s plan

in inviting me here: to throw me in Fay’s arms again.

“Aw, Lon’s not studying,” Ned barks. “He’s been spending all his free time at that ugly, old beach. You’d think this one was training to be an Olympic champion backstroker

or something.”

Fay’s eyebrow lifts slightly. “Interesting. He’s never mentioned a penchant for swimming before.”

I scramble for a reply, but Ned talks over me. “You ought to

take her out there, Lon. Yes, that’s a swell idea. Go show Fay

your beach.”

Taking Fay to the beach is, of course, out of the question. Not

with Cassandra waiting there for me. I try my best to appear as

relaxed as possible. “I don’t think so.”

“Aw, take her,” Ned says, his voice overly loud. He gives me

a suggestive nudge in the ribs. “A little moonlight swim doesn’t

sound too bad, eh, Lonnie?”

Fay smiles. “Of course, I couldn’t ruin my new dress, so I

guess that means…”

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