Read Online Sunset City by Melissa Ginsburg - Free Book Online

bouquet.
    â€œOh, they’re lovely, Charlotte,” she said. “I’ll get a vase. Can I offer you a drink? I’m having wine.”
    â€œSure,” I said. I could use it.
    â€œSit down.”
    She gestured into the adjacent parlor, furnished with antiques and a woven rug that matched the drapes. Danielle and I had never spent time in this room. We hung out by the pool, mostly, and upstairs. Sally returned with the wine bottle and handed me a glass. She sat opposite me in a wing chair, the coffee table between us. Her toenails were painted a red that showed through her stockings. For some reason the toes bothered me. It was too intimate, seeing her without shoes, like she was half naked.
    â€œI’m sorry for your loss,” I said, and grimaced at the cliché.
    â€œWell, you lost her, too,” Sally said. “It’s a difficult time.”
    â€œYes,” I said.
    I wanted to gulp my wine but I wasn’t sure she’d refill it. I sipped it, replacing my glass on the coaster.
    â€œI’m glad you came,” she said. “There are a couple of issues we need to discuss.”
    I wondered if she wanted the money back. I didn’t have it all; I’d spent a lot on drinks.
    â€œCharlotte,” she said, “how did this happen?”
    â€œI have no idea.”
    â€œYou must know something. Who did this, Charlotte? Who did this to her? She’s dead now, you can tell me.”
    â€œWhy are you asking me?”
    â€œYou girls always kept secrets from me. I’m not an idiot. She must have brought this on herself.”
    I gaped at her, heard the disgust in her tone. She hated Danielle, even dead. She always had.
    â€œI deserve to know the truth,” she said. “I’m her mother.”
    â€œNo,” I said, louder than I meant to. “I don’t know what happened, I wasn’t involved.”
    She glared at me and I looked back, unblinking. I imagined her business rivals crumbling under that gaze. She was nothing but a bully.
    â€œI need a cigarette,” I said.
    I stood and carried my wine towards the door. I closed it behind me and stood under the enormous lantern to smoke. In a minute Sally came out, carrying the bottle.
    â€œCharlotte, forgive me,” she said. “That wasn’t fair. I can’t believe she’s gone.”
    She looked broken now, confused. I wished I hadn’t raised my voice.
    â€œI can’t believe it either,” I said.
    â€œLet’s go around the side,” she said. “There’s the outdoor living room. It’s new, I don’t think you’ve seen it.”
    We walked through an iron gate to a courtyard she’d had built, a copper fire pit surrounded by cushioned wicker couches. I lit another cigarette.
    â€œWould you mind?” she said, gesturing towards the pack.
    â€œYou smoke?” I said.
    â€œNot normally.”
    She lit the cigarette and took a few inexpert puffs. She held it carefully. Her feet were still in stockings and I kept thinking the tiles would snag them and make a run. Holding a cigarette, her hands reminded me of Danielle’s. I thought, Danielle is gone and Sally is the ghost.
    â€œI needed you here because I have a favor to ask,” she said. She sounded so vulnerable, struggling for composure. I felt guilty now.
    â€œWhat can I do?”
    â€œAre you aware that this matter is getting a lot of media attention?”
    â€œI saw the paper today,” I said, thinking, This matter? Is that what we were calling it?
    â€œThere are elements that Danielle would have preferred to be kept private. It’s important that we respect her memory. You more than anyone can understand that.”
    â€œElements? What do you mean?”
    â€œOh, come on, Charlotte. What she did for a living. Lord knows what else she was involved in. Imagine that splashing all over CNN.”
    â€œOh,” I said.
    â€œI would appreciate it if you