Unfashionably Dead

Chapter Fourteen

Margaret sits alone at a table for five inside the Dirty Pelican. Groups of women pass by her, ogling her fashion and giving her the stink-eye as their attention works upward to her face. I've done this many times to Margaret. It doesn't seem fair that she should have great fashion, a perfect body, and a beautiful face. It's hard not to be jealous of her. In some ways, I can almost feel sorry for her. Women can be so catty to one another. But this is Margaret. Ninety per cent of received cattiness is entirely provoked.

A few empty tables remain in the restaurant portion of the bar. The dance floor is empty, save for a couple that should invest in a room at the Westin across the harbor. Pearl Jam's cover of "Last Kiss" plays in the background as Margaret sings along to the song. I catch myself choking up at the lyrics.

A waiter delivers a mojito to Margaret. She dips the sugar cane further into the drink and stirs, the lime and mint releasing a scent that takes me back to dancing in Ybor City. She removes the sugar and takes a sip.

"We keep bumping into each other," Tony says as he sets another mojito in front of Margaret.

Her eyes light at Tony's presence. He's traded the Tommy Bahama shirt for a black, casual button-down Armani. His khaki chinos are crisp.

"So we meet again," she says, trying to play it cool. "I can't accept your drink though. I have a date and it wouldn't feel right."

He smiles. "Keep the drink. Perhaps your next date will be with me." He reaches for her hand and gives it a squeeze. "I'll catch you later." He walks away as Margaret thanks him for the drink.

Margaret is halfway through the second mojito when Clive slides into the chair beside her. When the waiter returns, Clive orders a beer, and they both order burgers that cost double what they're worth.

"So, did you know the gal who died last night?" Clive asks once the conversation runs dry.

Margaret turns her head to conceal her eye roll. "We'd had a few run-ins, didn't really like one another."

"Ah. What happened between you?" Clive clearly doesn't pick up on Margaret's disdain for discussing me. He takes a sip of his Yuengling.

Naturally, I perk at the opportunity to hear Margaret's version. Seeing her squirm at telling Clive that she's a relationship-wrecking hussy will be good fun. I'm sure she'll find a way to gloss it over, though.

"I met her through a mutual friend, and we became friends, sorta. Maybe acquaintances is the better term. We're both wild about fashion, and that gave us an instant connection. It was constant talk about fashion. After a while, it got old. There's only so much you can say about fashion."

Blasphemy. May the fashion gods smite her where she sits. Gianni Versace, Coco Chanel, and Christian Dior are probably rolling in their graves.

"I had her water my plants a few times when I went on vacation, but other than that, we didn't really have a friendship."

"Hmmm," Clive says, seeming to digest every word she says. "You didn't mention how you fell out with her."

Margaret bites her lip and sighs. "She slept with my friend's fiancé. I sided with my friend over her."

I gasp. How dare she pin her deceit on me? I wouldn't cheat with my best friend's fiancé, and I wouldn't sleep with Adam if he were the last man alive. If it came down to Adam and me having sex to save humanity, I'm sorry, but humanity would die out.

"That would kill a friendship." Clive stuffs a sweet potato fry into his mouth.

"Definitely. I didn't want her dead though."

He seems to consider his words. "Will you go to her funeral?" He takes a bite of the burger. Tomato juice and grease dribble onto his shirt. He blots the spot with a paper napkin.

"Probably not. I can't imagine Shelly would want me there."

I don't want her within thirty thousand miles of my funeral. If I could kick her off the planet, I totally would. My murderer does not need to be anywhere near my family and friends.

The sound of a vibrating cell phone brings me back to the conversation. Clive squirms in his chair to fish the phone out of his pocket and reads the caller ID. A frown crosses his face. "I'm going to have to take it."

He answers the phone. After a few beats, he sighs. "All right, I'll be there in fifteen minutes. Thanks for calling me."

Margaret's smile downturns and she sinks a couple inches in her chair.

"I'm sorry. My guy who's on call is at the hospital with his wife. She isn't due for a few more weeks. It should only take forty-five minutes tops. Do you want to hang out here until I come back?"

She smiles, but her eyes reflect disappointment. "That's fine."

He hands her a fifty-dollar bill. "Can you pay for me? Use the change to have a couple drinks on me."

She takes the money from him and stuffs it into her handbag. "No problem."

He pecks her on the forehead. "Thank you for understanding. I'll make it up to you."

As he walks away, she mutters, " I doubt it."

She scans the room, her attention finally resting on Tony. He is talking to a brunette in a little black dress. They seem to be in deep conversation. Eventually, they both laugh, the woman throwing her head backward a few times. Tony breaks eye contact, and seems to look directly at Margaret. His eyes warm and he waves.

The woman turns to see what has captured Tony's attention.

My eyes bug as I recognize the woman. Why isn't Tonya at home with her children? Thank god I haven't seen Oliver since last night.

Tonya glances at Margaret, frowns, and then says something that makes Tony laugh, but he doesn't take his eyes off Margaret. His eyes narrow.

Curious about their conversation, I start toward Tonya.

A chair slices through my body.

"We need to get something straight, bitch. I'm finished with you." A loud thud accompanies the vulgarity.

Stunned, I turn around.

Margaret smiles and saccharinely says, "Oh, Adampoo, I'll decide when you're finished. Please take a seat."  

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Thanks again for still being here! I apologize for being a day late for this update. My house is an absolute wreck right now. Honestly, it is a sea of boxes and I feel like I'm drowning in things needing to be unpacked. Besides unpacking, we've registered the kids for school, bought school supplies, done back-to-school clothes shopping, and had meet-the-teacher night. I've also had two sick kids and felt a little under-the-weather myself. Hoping that things will calm down next week. I'm hoping to begin updating twice a week once I am settled in.

Thanks again!