Read Online A Sprig of Blossomed Thorn by Patrice Greenwood - Free Book Online

“Sorry. Thinking about work.”
    â€œAh-ah, that’s not allowed! Girls' night in, no work-think. Tonight is about fun and distraction.”
    â€œYes, ma’am!”
    Gina grinned as she stabbed at her salad. “Speaking of which, I got a flyer from the Santa Fe Institute. They’re starting a new lecture series. First one’s next Wednesday, want to go?”
    â€œIf I can. What’s the topic?”
    â€œSomething about microbiology, I think.”
    â€œHmm.”
    Microbiology didn’t sound thrilling, but from past experience I knew that the Santa Fe Institute’s lectures were always fascinating. They brought in great speakers from all over the country, and the house was always packed. Even Gina, who was not what I’d call deeply intellectual, enjoyed the talks, though I suspected it was partly as a chance to scope the crowd for potential future ex-boyfriends.
    â€œSo, the usual?” she said. “Lecture and dinner after?”
    â€œIf I’m free. I’ll have to look at my schedule.”
    â€œOK, Miss Cautious. Hey, why don’t you ask your detective friend, and I’ll ask Alan?”
    I took a sip of wine. “I’m not sure Tony’d be interested.”
    â€œNever know until you ask.”
    â€œTrue.”
    And I’d been mistaken about Tony before. I really shouldn’t make assumptions about his interests.
    My heart gave a flutter as I remembered his surprise kiss. He was interested in me, that much was clear. Would we get along despite our rather different backgrounds? Was it worth the effort to find out?
    Miss Cautious. I deserved it, I admitted. It would be a dreadful shame, though, to let Miss Cautious become Miss Chicken. I might miss out on something really good.
    I finished my pasta and eyed the serving bowl. Gina must have noticed. She’d make a great mom someday—she had a mother’s sixth sense.
    â€œTiramisu,” she said. “In the fridge.”
    â€œRight.”
    I put down my fork and picked up my wine, sitting back and looking out at the now-blue horizon and the first couple of stars. Lights sprinkled the hills in the foreground.
    We sat chatting and watching the night fall for a while, then cleared the table. In the living room, Gina fired up her movie-streaming gizmo. On the wall between two sets of shelves was a gigantic flat-screen TV.
    â€œWow, when did you get that?”
    She pointed a remote control at the screen and pressed a button, causing the screen to glow blue. “Couple weeks ago. What do you want to see?”
    â€œI don't know. Something lighthearted.”
    â€œHow about the latest Sandler comedy?”
    â€œLet’s give it a whirl.”
    I joined her on her black leather couch and she pushed buttons until the movie came on. About ten minutes into the film I looked at her.
    â€œCan we make some popcorn?”
    â€œThere’s tiramisu.”
    â€œNot to eat, to throw at the screen.”
    Gina chortled. “You, too?”
    â€œIt’s a Big Lie story. I hate those.”
    â€œHey, you approved it!”
    â€œYeah, and now I’m sorry.”
    Gina picked up the remote and paused the movie. “OK, so we lose it. Something else you want to see?”
    â€œYeah. Charade . Ever seen it?”
    â€œNope.”
    â€œCan you get it?”
    â€œLet's find out.”
    More button-pushing. I got up to use the bathroom. Before I could get back to the couch, my cell phone rang from the kitchen.
    â€œSorry, I forgot to turn it off!”
    I hurried to the phone nook and dug the cell out of my purse. The number on the caller ID looked familiar, though it said “Unavailable.” I flipped it open.
    â€œHello?”
    â€œHi, Ellen, it’s Tony. Got some news and I wanted to tell you before you heard it from someone else. The M.E. figured out what killed Mrs. Garcia. It wasn’t Whoever’s Syndrome.”
    â€œOh? What,