Read Online The Dark of Day by Barbara Parker - Free Book Online

“What did you do with it?”
    â€œI threw it out. Why?”
    â€œBilly! If you didn’t like it, you should have said so before I bought it for you. Don’t you remember? The Coconut Grove Arts Festival last February. I said it would look nice in your house.”
    â€œYou did? I’m sorry, C.J., I completely forgot. How much was it?”
    â€œSix hundred dollars. I don’t want the money back. Forget it.”
    â€œAwww. You can help me pick out something else.”
    â€œI wouldn’t dare. Your tastes are way too refined for me.”
    He laughed. “Come on, you need dinner. We have roast beef on the menu tonight.” He went into the refrigerator for a stack of covered plates. “All I have to do is nuke it.”
    â€œI don’t think I can wait that long.” She rummaged through the cheese drawer. “When I saw Milo today, he took me for a ride in his limo. He says the interior is getting ratty, so he’s going to have it reupholstered in red leather.”
    â€œThat’s our Milo.”
    C.J. found a box of crackers in one of the cabinets. “He told me you’re investing in The Aquarius. I assume it’s not a secret.”
    â€œNo, it’s not a secret.” Billy punched numbers into the microwave.
    â€œAre you in trouble, Billy? With money.”
    He turned around.

    She said, “Milo seems to think you are. Don’t give me that look. I’m your lawyer. If you’re taking chances on a project that in this market could just as easily go down the tubes, I wish you had sought my advice before you dug yourself further into the hole than you already are.”
    He held up his hands and laughed. “Not to worry. It’s all good. We’re golden. This project will take off, and when, not if, that happens, yours truly will be rolling in cash. And here’s the best part. I’ll have first dibs on a casino. I predict it’s going to be on the ballot next year, and this time it’s going to pass.”
    â€œYou’re sure,” she said.
    â€œYes, indeedy.”
    â€œWell. Great. Would you hand me a cheese knife, please?”
    â€œDon’t pout. I’ll hire you as general counsel.” Billy gave her a knife and went back for silverware and napkins. He set two places at the granite-topped island in the middle of the kitchen. Halogens in frosted glass shades hung from a rail, and his hair gleamed as he went in and out of the light.
    â€œYou’re insufferable,” she said.
    â€œI know,” he said.
    Watching him move, C.J. cut a small wedge of brie. “Paul Shelby told me you and he are good friends.”
    â€œShelby has a lot of friends. I support him because he’s pro-business.”
    â€œHe’s up for re-election this fall.”
    â€œAre you asking if we’re buying his influence in Congress?”
    â€œLet’s just say you’re supporting a pro-business candidate.”
    â€œBut I’m not contributing to his campaign. Do you know why?” Billy leaned his arms on the granite top.
    C.J. fed him a bite of cheese. “You don’t want Shelby’s opponents to start making snarky comments about this deal.”
    â€œExactly.”
    â€œWhat are those?” She had noticed the bottles on the other end of the island, one in a brown wrapper with ornate lettering, the other a squat bottle with an old sailing ship on its label.
    â€œThose? I brought them back from Aruba. I am on a hunt for the world’s finest gin.” He slid the bottles closer. “This is a Van Wees, from Holland,
fifteen years old. The other is Martin Miller’s, distilled in London, then shipped to Iceland to be blended with spring water.” He slid off his stool and crossed to the refrigerator. “However, for a truly superlative gin and tonic, you need the right tonic.” He presented a chilled bottle. “From India, Fever Tree tonic water. Cures you of