Read Online Basil Instinct by Shelley Costa - Free Book Online

remarks with an attitude that implied the only thing standing in our way was the rest of the staff. The good news was that the Kale and Kayla Organics van was also there, so maybe Sandor would find an easy Eve substitute. And I do mean easy. Kayla’s van gave new meaning to the term hot wheels.
    Slipping inside the restaurant, I was barraged with four times the usual energy level for an average Wednesday. I figured Choo Choo was around somewhere since The Best of the Rolling Stones was slinging itself around the dining room on thesound system. Giancarlo Crespi was inventorying the liquor; Sandor was spreading clean floor mats and ogling Vera Tyndall. Paulette was arguing with a delivery guy I had never seen who was trying to get her to accept—a day earlier than arranged— an order of scallops for Maria Pia’s scallop fritter appetizer on Friday night. She was poking his chest and yelling something like You think we’re going to serve two-day-old scallops, hey?
    The Stones were rocking out to “You Can’t Always Get What You Want,” which, as I made my way through the throng of busy staff, I thought maybe I’d take on as my personal theme song. At a back table was Nonna, poring over her recipe books and acting surprisingly in control. I thought she must have had a couple of mojitos with her eggs over easy that morning.
    “Nonna!” I yelled over Mick’s insisting that sometimes you just might find you get what you need. Maria Pia looked up at me, pulling her red reading glasses off her nose. “The new help’s coming at three p.m. today.” I kept walking, but not so fast I didn’t hear her “Bene!” sailing after me.
    In the kitchen, the lean and lovely Jonathan was showing Landon the signs he had just brought from CopyMax. He was wearing jeans and a pale blue fitted shirt and as I angled in close for a good look at the handiwork, I gota heady whiff of CK Man, which should most definitely be charged with incitement to riot. Landon flashed me a wry, longing look: I know, I know. CK Man was his chief inhibition killer. I noticed he was actually sitting on his hands on Li Wei’s stool.
    Jonathan smiled and held up the first sign. It was a nice little workmanlike eleven-by-seventeen-inch piece of red cardboard with bold black lettering—pretty much your basic bordello colors—and although the font wasn’t as appealing as Nonna’s tattoo, it was plain and legible. Miracolo Will Be Closed Friday, June 20, for a Private Party. We Regret Causing Any Inconvience a nd Look Forward to Serving You the Finest in Food and Drink on Saturday. Mille Abrazzi, The Staff.
    I nodded encouragingly. Should I mention “inconvenience” was missing an entire syllable? Jonathan might know his wines, but he was not so great with the spelling. In a split second I decided the message was still plain—we’re closed—and he had brought two Angelottas such pleasure already today with his CK Man, which was more important than correct spelling. I didn’t mind being inconvienced in the least.
    The second sign was a twin to the first and simply read, Closed for a Private Party . “This one will go up on Friday,” said Jonathan, very sensibly.Landon beamed as if his crush had just found a brand-new planet in a distant solar system.
    “Good work,” I said, clapping Jonathan on the back, which sent up an invisible little scent-cloud of the hypnotic cologne. Everyone was happy. Jonathan headed through the double doors to post the first sign on the front door.
    My fingers sorted out some of the waves in his brown hair as I told Landon about the new help. “Dish,” was all he said as he happily closed his eyes. I covered Corabeth Potts—which was more than I could say about her shorts—in a couple of sentences. The skeleton rubber bands, the scene from Harry Potter (sounds like Order of the Phoenix , Landon opined), the anxiety sweat, the natural grace. He didn’t need to know too much about her since she’d be on Paulette’s team