“Mrs. E is offering a fifty-thousand-dollar reward for information leading to the arrest of whoever killed Parrish,” Livvy added. “I mean, it wouldn’t be about the money… but…”
“Dammmmmn. Fifty K? Wow.”
“Right?”
“All we gotta do is catch a killer. Like onDateline,right? Easy peasy,” Felice scoffed.
“We can do it. I know we can.”
Livvy opened her closet door and pulled out a large cardboard tampon box, reached inside, and pulled out the notebook, which gave Felice a laugh.
“You really think somebody’s gonna come in here looking for a notebook they don’t even know exists? Like who? One of those two doofuses out there?” Felice nodded her head in the direction of the lounge. “Does this mean you don’t trust KJ and Garrett?”
“It’s not that I don’t trust them. I just think we keep this on the down-low. For now.”
Livvy leafed through some pages in Parrish’s bitch book, stopped, and stabbed her forefinger on one particular page.
“I think I might have figured this one out. Like I said, her handwriting is barely readable, but this looks like it says something about liquor. A guest came to her and complained that they ordered premium Glenlivet at the Verandah bar and got something else, I can’t read what it was. And her note says the customer said it happened a couple times. And then, this next bit, it says something like ‘check liquor distributor.’”
Felice rocked backward on the bed. “Okay, I been around restaurants my whole life, and I know this scam. She thinks somebody’s pouring well liquor and charging customers for the top-shelf brands.”
“You know,” Livvy said, “I think maybe the same thing is happening with our wine list. I’ve had a few customers send back their wine, complaining that it doesn’t taste like it usually does. Like, a customer last week said his Beaujolais tasted… not right.”
“What’d you do?”
“Brought him a different kind and took it off his check, like Garrett told me to do.”
“Huh.” Felice peered over Livvy’s shoulder. “What else is in that bitch book?”
Livvy paged backward and pointed at a note, but Felice shook her head.
“I can’t read that chicken scratch. But, are you hungry?”
“Have you met me? I’m always hungry.”
“Skinny girls like you, eat like a horse and never gain an ounce, really piss me off,” Felice said, getting up. “Be right back.”
Ten minutes later, Felice entered the room with a tray holding two steaming bowls of noodles.
Livvy bent over the tray and inhaled. “Smells divine.” She grabbed one of the bowls and a pair of chopsticks. “What all is in here?”
“A little of this, a little of that. Ramen noodles, some chopped tomatoes and basil from the restaurant’s kitchen garden, somediced-up salmon left over from dinner service, some fish sauce, and a poached egg.”
Livvy scooped up a pile of fragrant noodles and chewed. “Mmm. This beats the hell out of the popcorn I had when I got off work.” She slurped up another bite and rolled her eyes in ecstasy.
“I ate a lot of ramen when I was in school and my mom was working the night shift, but I never knew ramen could taste like this.”
“Oh yeah. Done right, ramen is like the little black dress of the cheap and fast dinner category,” Felice said.
She looked over at her friend. “Hey, Livvy. Can I ask you something?”
“Go ahead.”
“It’s about your family,” Felice started.
“I guess you heard about my mom showing up here today to make a complete ass of herself with Mrs. E,” Livvy said, her face getting pink.
Felice shrugged. “I heard, but that’s not what I’m wondering about. It’s none of my business, but is there, like, a dad in the picture? My dad disappeared when I was a little kid, and he never married my mama anyway. And my aunt always says that was a blessing, ’cuz he was nothing but trash. Anyway, you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”
