“I’ve never seen a man who could carry off velvet before,” Monica observed, toying with the cork from the wine bottle. “I’ll bet he looks hot in a smoking jacket. Ha! There’s a pun for you.”
“Monica, what about Tom?” Grace interrupted. She and Monica were preparing a tea tray in the kitchen while Peter gave Calum a tour of the house. Not the complete tour, Grace was willing to bet.
Monica sighed. “Oh, Grace, Tom was just a…a convenience. Like Chaz.”
“Chaz isn’t a convenience!” exclaimed Grace. “I don’t even know what that means.” She felt defensive although she couldn’t explain why.
“Sure you do. A convenience is an otherwise eligible man who fills in while you’re waiting for the real thing.”
“Why couldn’t the convenience be the real thing?”
“True love, Grace, that’s what I’m talking about. Surely you’ve heard of it?”
“Once or twice.”
“I’ll bet Shelley and old Byron and—” Grace rolled her eyes and Monica changed tack. “So tell me about Peter Fox.”
“Uh-oh, I don’t like that meaningful tone. Peter is just a friend. I don’t even know if he’s really a friend. He’s sort of my…”
“Accomplice?”
Grace had already briefly filled Monica in on some of the events of the past few days. It was a highly abridged account reading more or less like the back cover blurb of a gothic romance: ruthless crooks searching for lost jewels that they believed had fallen into Peter’s possession. Grace left out the Byron connection and Peter’s less-than-savory past. She knew that Monica, with her passion for old crime and mystery movies, would swallow this up without question. Or at least without too many questions. Monica would believe it because Monica would hope it was true.
Monica tossed the cork and caught it, one-handed. “He’s beautiful. You should marry him.”
“Marry him? Because he’s beautiful? Besides, he’s not the marrying kind.”
Monica grinned. “He’s smart. He could learn.”
Grace stared at this stranger in Monica’s skin. “Seriously though, Monica. What about your job? What about your life?”
Monica said cheerfully, “I’m starting a new life. It feels wonderful.”
High Rhymes and Misdemeanors Page 38
