Toad in the Hole by Paisley Ray Read Free Book Online Page B

Mate.”
    “You know him?”
    “Not personally, just his character. And quit changing the subject.”
    “Wait a minute, it was you that changed the subject and for the record, you said you may have seen Rocky Horror. How do you know the characters if you can’t exactly remember seeing the film?”
    “And you said you were going to tell GG about the engraving. Why are you being so secretive about it?”
    “It’s Callahan. I didn’t feel comfortable saying that the abdicated king may have engraved a love note on the inside of the oyster for Wallis Simpson.”
    “Why not?”
    “That’s just not the kind of information you go spouting off. It was a big to-do back then. Bigger than Madonna singing Like a Virgin down a Venice canal. And since I don’t really know for sure, I just think it’s best to wait until after the appointment at Asprey. Let the experts tell us whether or not a king commissioned the engraving.”
    We stepped into a hunter green carpeted dining room. Round tables were fashioned into the corners and a buffet was set in front of floor-to-ceiling glass windows. As far as I could tell, it was adult Halloween outside with a disturbing number of men in European-cut, sparkling spandex swim trunks.
    After giving the attendant our room numbers, we helped ourselves to warm plates.
    “Avoidance isn’t going to make this one go away!”
    I was discovering that Travis could be a nag .
    “I’m not avoiding conflict. I’m just derailing unnecessary drama.”
    With a hand on a wooden handle of a stainless steel buffet pan, Travis read a card, “Bangers.”
    “And mash,” I read from the neighboring serving pan.
    Filling his plate, Travis stopped pestering and dropped the inquisition. I’d have to remember that food quieted his grumbly mood. A handsome escort, hot meal, warm beer, and watching scantily-clad characters playing along with a movie didn’t seem such a bad way to spend the night.
     
    NOTE TO SELF
    Oyster brooch is officially on my nerves. It’s putting a wedge between Travis and me. Won’t be shocked or disappointed if the “Walzy” inscription is a bunch of nothing.
     
    Travis’s dimples are swoon-worthy.

 
     
     
CHAPTER 9
     
    M idnight V iewing
     
     
    T he rain had stopped and the storm clouds scattered. Sweet smoke that wasn’t tobacco wafted above my head, and a light harmony of cricket chirping hummed between movie lines. Slouched in a blue and white striped folding deck chair, I untied the tennis shoes I’d snatched out of a suitcase, and rested my red-leather stained bare feet in the soggy grass blades. I’d trashed one pair of shoes today, and was damned if I was going to ruin another cute pair.
    In the car ride when Travis said he “May have seen” The Rocky Horror Picture Show , he’d been bullshitting. I watched him mouth the words, “I would like, if I may, to take you on a strange journey.” He’d been lip-syncing from the moment we sat down. The man had every line memorized.
    “Some things in life: wine, cheese, classic movies, get better with age,” he said.
    I wasn’t captured by the story the first and only time I saw it back in high school. Ten minutes in, I realized I didn’t like it any better the second time around. The only thing the film had going for it this time was the setting around me: a towering castle on the bank of the River Thames with a dock and a handful of boats that bobbed under streaks of moonlight.
    Curly red wig hair cascaded down the back of girl in front of me. My knee clunked into Travis’s. “Who’s she supposed to be?”
    His eyes never left the billboard-size screen. “Magenta, she’s from Planet Transsexual.”
    Magenta–the girl seated in front of me, not on the screen–curled her serpent tongue into the mouth of a guy wearing a tool belt. With a tilt of her head, she winked at Travis. “What is she making-out with?” I asked.
    “That’s Riff-Raff, her brother.”
    “Eugh,” I said, louder than I