Peyton nodded again, not trusting herself to speak.
Cho looked over Peyton’s other shoulder. “Damn man, you got talent.”
“Thank you.”
Abe pushed between them and took the photo from her. “Come on, lil’ bits, no tears tonight.” He set it on the sofa table, making a noise of admiration in his throat as he looked at it, then he turned back to her. “Dry your eyes, sweetie.”
Maria handed her a tissue and she carefully dabbed beneath her eyes, then she moved close to Jake and rose on tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “Thank you,” she whispered in his ear, hugging him.
He hugged her back, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Anything for you, Mighty Mouse.”
Abe pulled her out of Jake’s arms and steered her into the kitchen. “Now let’s get this celebration started.”
He released her at the counter and went to the refrigerator, pulling it open. Reaching in, he drew out a tray covered in beautiful crystal wine glasses filled with a frothy white drink. Sitting on top of the glacially white liquid was a sprig of mint and three brilliant red raspberries, almost a perfect match for Peyton’s dress.
Abe settled the tray on the counter and reached for the first glass, handing it to Peyton.
“What is it?” she asked.
“This is called Raspberry Le Flor, made with Svedka Raspberry Vodka, elderflower liqueur, lemon juice, simple syrup, and water. An elegant cocktail for an elegant lady.”
Peyton smiled at him and watched as he passed the drinks around.
“Care to join us, Angel,” he called.
Marco had moved to the sofa table and was staring at the photo Jake had given her. He glanced up and caught Peyton’s eye, then he came to the counter and accepted the drink from Abe. Finally, Abe lifted his own drink and saluted Peyton with it.
“On this auspicious occasion, I thought we’d each say something about our darling friend, the divine Miss P. Of course, I’ll start.” He cleared his throat and stood up straighter. “Peyton, my sweet, you are the most kick-ass woman I’ve ever met and if I weren’t gay, I would so marry you.”
Peyton laughed.
“Here, here,” said Jake.
They each took a sip.
“Who’s next?” asked Abe.
“I’ll go,” said Cho. He held up his glass. “Peyton, when I first met you, I felt so damn glad not to be saddled with you as a partner…” He nudged Marco in the stomach with his elbow and everyone laughed. “But over the years, I have come to admire you for the caring, generous woman you are.” He started to take a sip, then stopped. “Who also looks smoking hot in red!”
They laughed again, but Maria gave him a mock glare.
“Your turn, sweet cheeks,” said Abe, nodding at her.
She held up her glass and took a deep breath. “Peyton, I am so glad that I finally got to do something with that hair.” She shook her head, laughing. “No, seriously, not a day goes by when I don’t think about what you did for me.” Her eyes filled with tears and Peyton’s did as well. “You saved my life and then you gave me a new start. I will never forget that.”
Peyton smiled through her tears and moved toward Maria, who enveloped her in her arms.
“Stop!” she scolded, hugging her tight, then pushing her away. “You’re gonna ruin your makeup.”
Peyton stepped back and they all took a sip.
“Okay, Jake-o,” said Abe.
“Great, now we get a sermon,” said Cho.
Jake scowled at him, then turned to Peyton. “Like Maria, I was one of your lost sheep. I didn’t know how I was going to go on without my wife, but you showed me that there’s still so much to be experienced and lived, so much crazy to be had.”
She pressed her fingers to her lips and blew him a kiss.
“Saving the most gorgeous for last, Angel,” said Abe with a flourish.
Marco drew a deep breath and looked down. “Unlike Cho who thanks his lucky stars every day to have Simons as his partner, eight years ago I was cursing fate for placing me with a flighty ball of energy as mine.” He looked up and captured her eyes. “But it wasn’t long before I came to realize that I was blessed.”
“Aw,” said Maria.
“You make me laugh every single day. You teach me patience and compassion, and humanity. You are my partner and my best friend, and I know I’m a better man today, eight years later, because you came into my life.”
Peyton’s lips parted and she locked eyes with him. For a moment, she could almost forget there was anyone else in the room. Then the doorbell rang, shattering the moment. He dropped his gaze and lifted his drink for a sip.
“That’ll be the chauffeur,” said Abe, moving toward the door. “Get your wrap, sweets, it’ll be chilly out there.”
Marco glanced at her, then went to the peg by the door and grabbed his coat, as Abe pulled open the door. A man in a chauffeur’s uniform greeted him.
“Bring your drinks everyone and let’s go. We’re on the clock now!” said Abe, swinging out the door and disappearing from sight.
Marco followed him, then Cho and Maria. Peyton lifted Pickles onto the couch and walked to the door. Jake met her, holding her wrap for her. He handed her his drink and then placed the wrap around her shoulders.
She stepped out onto the landing, waiting for him while he got his coat. He took his glass back and shut the door behind him, locking it, then he took her elbow and guided her down the stairs. She was grateful for his steadying hand on her arm.
“You okay?”
She nodded, not wanting to speak.
“That partner of yours can surprise you sometimes, huh?”
“Yeah.”
They reached the bottom and he released her. A long black limo waited across the driveway. Abe poked his head out of the sunroof and waved at them. “Hurry up, you two!”
Peyton smiled at him, but a motion in the window across the street stopped her. Jake hesitated at her side.
“Something wrong?” he asked.
“Someone was in that window across the street just now. I could see their silhouette.”
“Yeah, I told you it was rented out a few weeks ago.”
“Have you seen the people who rented it?”
“No, they keep the blinds closed all of the time. For a minute, I thought it might be Defino.”
“I could swear I just saw someone standing there looking out. I also thought I saw someone there this morning when Marco and I went for a run.”
Jake shrugged. “They’re probably just curious about the limo.”
Peyton gave him a distracted nod, watching the windows to see if there was any other movement.
“Come on, you two!” moaned Abe, sprawling the upper half of his body across the roof of the limo.
Peyton dismissed her curiosity about the neighbors and walked over to the car door. The chauffeur opened it for her and helped her step inside. The interior was covered in red velvet upholstery with wood accents on the door and roof. She took a seat beside Maria as Abe popped back inside.
“Isn’t it plush?” he said, throwing himself down across from her.
“Like a whore house,” she said.
Abe touched the bottom of her crystal glass. “You need to finish your drink.”
She took another sip, watching as Jake climbed inside.
“Dear God, is this Satan’s go-to vehicle?” he said, looking around.
“Something like,” grumbled Marco from the far back.
“This is a chariot for a beautiful Nubian queen,” said Abe, leaning over to kiss Peyton’s cheek.
She laughed and took another sip. What the hell! Might as well enjoy it. At least there hadn’t been any abnormally large birthday cakes just yet.
* * *
Abe instructed the chauffeur to drive to Japan Town. Once they arrived, he ushered them into Benihana’s. Peyton hadn’t been here since she was a little girl with her mother and father when they’d taken some out of town cousins. The restaurant had fascinated he
r, the way the chefs threw their knives around, chopping meat and vegetables with a flourish right in front of the patrons. She delighted in watching them cook and the fact that you got to sit with strangers, sharing an experience.
“Benihana’s?” complained Maria. “I thought we were going somewhere really nice.”
“I said nice and fun, fun being the operative word,” said Abe.
They were shown to their seats and the demonstration began. Abe ordered sake and made sure the entire staff knew it was Peyton’s birthday. She was squeezed in between Abe and Jake with Marco at the other end of the circular table. In order to talk to him, she’d have to shout, but he gave her a shrug and an understanding smile.
With the whirl of the knives, the laughter of everyone at the table, a photographer who kept snapping pictures, and the continual flow of sake, Peyton found her head spinning by the time they brought her a dish of green tea ice cream with a candle in it. The entire restaurant sang her happy birthday, making her blush, and then they were out the door again and into the limousine where Abe opened a bottle of champagne and passed it around.
Once again, she found herself on the opposite end of the limo from her partner. She wasn’t sure she should drink any more champagne, but Abe was making ridiculous toasts, so she didn’t have much choice.
“As the good Irish are so fond of saying, in all this world, why I do think there are five reasons why we drink: good friends, good wine…” He made a face. “Lest we be dry and any other reason why.”
They all laughed and drank.
“Or this one –there are several good reasons for drinking and one has just entered my head. If a man can’t drink when he’s living, then how the heck can he drink when he is dead.”
“Enough,” said Peyton. “Where are we going now?”
“That, my darling,” he said, touching the tip of her nose with his long finger, “is a surprise.”
She glanced over at Marco and he mouthed, Abnormally large cake. She laughed and tried to cover her glass as Abe filled it again. “No strippers, Abe.”
“Don’t you worry your purty head now, sweets.”
She settled back and listened to them all laughing, coming up with some more really bad toasts. Their levity was infectious and she realized she was having a good time, but a part of her wouldn’t have minded a much quieter night.
Which was something she was not going to get.
They wound up on Folsom at the Cat Club, an 80s retro nightclub. Abe bounded out of the limo and nearly dragged Peyton to the door. Before they even made it inside, she could hear the boom of an 80s rock anthem. Stepping inside, she found herself in a crazy amalgamation of rockers in leather and chains, Goths in heavy eyeliner and black spandex, and men in drag.
A particularly beautiful drag queen wearing nine inch heels and a hot pink mini-dress caught sight of Marco and ran his hand up Marco’s arm, blowing a kiss at him. Marco closed his eyes and gave a tense nod before sidling away.
Abe peeled off into laughter, wrapping his arm around Marco’s shoulders and pulling him close. “He’s mine,” he told the drag queen.
The other man rolled his eyes and wandered into the crowd.
“I got you, Angel,” Abe said, patting his chest.
“Thank you,” said Marco with a tight smile.
Somehow Abe managed to wrangle a table in the midst of the blaring music and the pulsating lights. Peyton was intrigued by the massive disco ball rotating on the main dance floor. Marco took a seat at the table and glowered at anyone who appeared like they might approach him – male and female alike.
Peyton wanted to sit with him a moment and just people watch, but Abe dragged her to the bar to order drinks for everyone. She really didn’t need to drink anymore, but Abe was undeterred. She found herself transfixed by the woman gyrating in a go-go cage wearing a collection of black strips over her unmentionables.
Abe placed something in her hand and she looked down to see it glowing a fluorescent green with a splash of blood red in the middle of it. “What is it?” she shouted.
He said something in return, but she couldn’t hear him. He made a drinking motion with his hand and she took a sip. The blast of astringent alcohol hit her palate and she tugged on Abe’s sleeve, rising on tiptoes to shout in his ear.
“What is it?”
“It’s called a Wolf Bite.”
“And what’s in it?”
“Absinthe and Midori.”
“What is the red?”
“Grenadine.”
“Isn’t absinthe the stuff that makes you go blind?”
“And hallucinate.”
“Wonderful. Always felt fortunate to keep my sight until 30.”
He placed another drink in her hand and motioned back to the table. “It doesn’t have that much absinthe in it.” He carried three more drinks in his long fingers with a beer under his arm.
“Can I have the beer?”
“That’s for Angel’D. I figured there was no way he’d try a Wolf Bite, although it looks like half the club is angling for a bite of our boy.”
Peyton glanced over and saw a pretty blond leaning down to talk in his ear, giving him a flash of cleavage, which was straining out of a sequined halter dress. Jake sat beside him, listening to the conversation and studying her assets, while Cho was trying to look anywhere else.
Peyton felt annoyance rise inside of her and took a gulp of her Wolf Bite, shuddering at it blazed down her esophagus. She deliberately angled into the table near the blond. “Excuse me,” she said, forcing her to back up.
She gave Peyton a glare, but Peyton turned her back, settling the drinks on the table.
Abe passed Marco the beer, then gave the blond a wave of his fingers. “Scat,” he said, shooing her off. “This is a private party.”
She threw back her hair and wandered into the crowd. Peyton could have kissed Abe at that moment. Before she could settle herself at the table, Abe grabbed her hand, reaching over to take Jake’s wrist.
“Dancing first!” he shouted, then dragged them into the pulsating, throbbing crowd of half-dressed people. Cho and Maria followed, but looking over her shoulder, Peyton noted that Marco didn’t and as soon as they left the table, the blond was back, taking a seat next to him and leaning against his arm.
* * *
“So, what’s with the gay guy and the tiny chick with the big hair?” said the blond.
Marco shook his head, lifting the beer to his mouth. “Nothing.”
“I’m Zephyr.” She held out her hand.
Marco sighed, and shook it briefly. Not long ago, her blatant come-on would have been enough, but the Zephyrs and Ambers of the world were starting to bore him. He’d actually been glad when Abe shooed her away and he wished she’d stayed shooed.
“So, don’t you love this club? I come here every weekend. I’m all about the 80s.”
Marco started to say something, then stopped himself. How could you be all about the 80s when you’d never even saw the decade? “Yep.”
“What’s your name?”
“Herman.”
She made a face. “Wow, so doesn’t fit you.”
“Yep.”
“You don’t talk much, do you?”
“Nope.”
“That’s okay. I’m not much interested in talking, if you know what I mean, Herman?”
Oh, he knew. She announced it to every male in the place. Unfortunately looking around, he guessed there weren’t a lot of prospects. A guy in black leather freak-danced right in front of him, his greasy hair flying about his head, his face covered in tattoos and piercings. A few people over from him was the drag queen towering above everyone in his heels. A guy with spikes on his hands wandered through, his eyes completely rimmed in black eye liner, which wept down onto his cheeks.
Besides Marco himself, the only non-homicidal looking men in the room were Cho, who was obviously taken, and Jake, who looked like a dork doing his white boy bounce next to Abe and Peyton.
Marco’s gaze fixed on Peyton. She was dancing with her arms in the air, shaking that cute little body of hers, her hair flowing down her back. He couldn’t help but smile, especially when Abe picked her up and spun her around, her head thrown back as she laughed. Where other women seemed pale and plastic, she seemed to glow with life and vitality.
“Do you want to dance?”
Marco blinked and looked over at Zephyr. “Sorry. No.” He grabbed the beer and rose to his feet, walking away from the table. He found a spot at the end of the bar and took a seat on a barstool. Bracing his arms on the bar’s surface, he twirled the beer, keeping his back to the room. The blare of the music enveloped him, cutting him off from the people on all sides. It was true. There was nothing lonelier than being in a crowd.
He sat, staring at the beer label for a while, thinking about everything that had happened in the last few months and wondering what he was going to do. Nothing was the same, everything was changing, and the life he thought he wanted, that he fought so hard to maintain, seemed empty and shallow now.
A hand touched his back and he looked over his shoulder.
Peyton smiled at him. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” He motioned to the bar stool next to him.
She perched on it, her legs hardly touching the bottom rung. “Dinner was fun, but this isn’t really what I wanted to do tonight.”
He looked out, spotting Abe dancing through the crowd, zig-zagging back and forth. “Abe’s having a blast.”
She looked at him as well and laughed. “Yeah, he is.”
He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the present he had for her, setting it on the bar. He couldn’t believe how nervous he was, giving it to her, and he was grateful everyone else was occupied.
She glanced down at it. “What’s this?”
He shrugged.
“You weren’t supposed to get me anything.”
“Neither were you, but that didn’t stop you.”
She smiled and picked up the gift, carefully starting on the end. He watched her slowly open it, then lifted his eyes to her face as she studied the velvet box, reaching for the lid. She opened it, then gasped when she saw the locket nestled in the silk.
Murder in the Presidio (Peyton Brooks' Series Book 6) Page 23