Page 92 of Deep Tide

Leyla scooted out of the traffic flow. The driveway quickly filled as guests spilled out of luxury cars and SUVs. A red Porsche whipped into the drive, and Leyla jumped out of the way. She dug her car keys from her apron and rushed to move her Toyota before someone blocked her in. Who knew how late this party would go, and some people might even be spending the night.

By the time she made it back to the pool with the hurricane lamps, the tone of the party had shifted. The soft Hawaiian guitar had been replaced by up-tempo club music, and women in thongs sashayed around the pool.

Wade walked up to her. “Need help?”

“Yes.” She handed him the box. “Put two of these on each dinner table, one on each cocktail table, and one on the bar.”

“Got it.”

“Where’s Siena?”

“Filling trays downstairs,” he said. “Did we bring any peaches?”

“Peaches? No.”

“What about the fruit kebabs?” he asked.

“They’re pineapple, mango, and watermelon. Why?”

“He wants to make Bellinis.”

“Who does?”

“Him.” Wade nodded over her shoulder, and Leyla turned to see Gagnon behind the bar. He had a silver cocktail shaker in his hand and was pouring drinks for a couple of women in cowboy hats and bikinis.

Jillian stepped off the elevator and waved across the deck at her boss. “Phone call,” she mouthed, holding up a cell.

Gagnon shook his head at her.

Sighing, Jillian walked over and whispered something in his ear, then handed him the phone. He said something to the women and then strode inside the house.

“Leyla?”

She turned to Wade. “What?”

“Peaches. Are you sure there aren’t any here somewhere?”

“I’ll check,” she said.

The elevator was busy again, so Leyla took the stairs. She found Siena in the kitchen arranging skewers of barbecued shrimp on trays.

“The host wants peaches,” Leyla said.

Siena didn’t look up. “What for?”

“Bellinis.”

“I’ll check the back fridge. It looked pretty stocked.” She wiped her hands on her apron and went into the utility room.

Leyla turned her attention to the trays filled with shrimp skewers and spring rolls. She glanced across the living room to the hallway. She could hear Gagnon’s muffled voice from behind the closed office door. She’d noticed a bathroom down that same hallway, and if she went to use it right now, she might be able to overhear some of the conversation that had pulled him away from his party.

“You know we’re up three, right?” Siena called from the back.

“What’s that?”

“We’re up three guests.”

The office door opened, and Gagnon walked out, slipping a phone into his pocket.

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