Fatal Reservations by Lucy Burdette Read Free Book Online Page A

fifteen minutes late. Paint fumes grew stronger as I approached the second-floor landing. Pushing open the door to the reception area, I was shocked by the bright yellow color of the walls. And then I noticed a series of large framed photographs behind Danielle’s desk. A plate of pink shrimp and a glass of wine on a table overlooking the ocean—Louie’s Backyard?—polydactyl cats lounging at the Ernest Hemingway Home, a rooster flapping his wings in front of the Little White House, and finally, thequotation “Leap and the net will appear” in elegant calligraphy, superimposed over two bright red butterflies.
    “Wow,” I said, a little stupefied by the changes. “It looks amazing.”
    “Hurry,” said Danielle, beckoning me to follow her into Wally’s office. “We’ve been waiting for you to start the meeting.”
    I hustled into the office and took my customary seat catty-corner to the desk that had been Wally’s. His familiar face was on Palamina’s oversized screen, and she was sitting in his chair. His back wall, on which he had thumbtacked our best articles from the past year, was now papered with textured burlap, and his prized ceramic flip-flop lamp had been replaced with two Asian-style table lamps made of arcing fish. Gone were the cascades of garish-colored beads from Fantasy Fest and New Year’s Eve, which had been looped on a couple of random nails on his walls. The room seemed neater and more elegant. And maybe a little bit sad.
    “Sorry I’m late; the brunch went slowly at Firefly. But I did bring leftovers.”
    I held up two brown bags, now unappealingly stained by grease and smelling to high heaven of cheese and onions.
    Palamina’s nose wrinkled slightly.
    “Let me stick those in the fridge for you,” Danielle said, snatching them out of my hands.
    “I’ve just taken Wally on a tour of our new look,” Palamina said with a grin, once Danielle was back in place.
    “All I can say is wow,” I said with an enthusiastic accent on the “wow,” knowing that anyone who knew me—as Wally and Danielle did—could see rightthrough it. The changes looked glamorous and upscale and upbeat, too—none of which I was feeling.
    “Wow is right,” said Wally from the computer screen. “I didn’t realize how much we were in need of a makeover.”
    I squirmed and pasted a sickly smile on my face. I loved the way the look of our old office had evolved, a kitschy style that I thought suited Key Zest perfectly.
    “And,” Danielle added, pointing at me, “hold on to your hat, because we are no longer obligated or even encouraged to wear the yellow polyester Key Zest shirts! Palamina is thinking of ordering us these.” She tapped the page on a catalog spread open on the desk, which showed a flowing silk blouse with an asymmetrical hem and a low neckline. Still the yellow color that brought out the jaundice in my skin tone, but with the addition of a style guaranteed to keep me twitching to hide glimpses of brassiere and even breast.
    “A polyester Hawaiian shirt doesn’t do much for anyone,” said Palamina. “Do you think?”
    “Wow,” I said again, because I couldn’t think of anything else that wouldn’t be rude. Of course our team shirts were homely, but to me, they were like a badge and a blue polyester uniform were to a cop. They meant we belonged. They meant we were on the case, on the hunt for the best food—the best everything—in Key West. The brotherhood of Key Zest . “Wally’s going to look adorable in that,” I finally added when it became clear that Palamina was waiting for my reaction.
    Palamina laughed. “Let’s get the meeting started. Bring us up to date on the floating restaurant.”
    “The commission meeting was wild,” I said. “Edel Waugh spoke up against the new place and tried to invoke the regulations of the Historic ArchitecturalReview Commission and so on. But she was overruled because it’s a boat, not a building, so the present regulations don’t apply.