Page 103 of Look at Her and Die

“Show time,” I whispered into Searcy’s hair.

“What?” she whispered back.

“Watch,” I instructed. “This is a commonly used tactic of my mother’s.”

“Oh, no, Mr. Brussard. I’ll get you a fresh one from the…” My mother trailed off as Paul took a healthy bite of the dinner roll.

Then promptly made a face.

He chewed for a long second before he scolded, “Holy fuck. What the fuck is in this?”

Did I mention that I really liked Paul?

For a lawyer, he was okay.

Too bad he was about to be representing Searcy’s mother.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” my mother replied.

She’d, of course, caught me switching the plates, and had only made a face that quickly disappeared because she didn’t want everyone to catch her frowning.

Hosts never frowned.

This went better than I expected.

Paul spit his food out. Seconds later he was reaching for my sister’s full drink—which I’d also switched.

He took a healthy swallow, and immediately spit that out, too.

“What the fuck is wrong with this food?” Paul cried out.

“Mine was perfectly palatable,” Elisha said, knowing this was a tactic my mother used.

“So was mine,” Harrington drawled as he took in Paul.

“Mine wasn’t seasoned at all,” Searcy admitted. “I had to add a lot of salt and pepper to make the meat have any taste at all. Oh, and I also kind of wanted more steak.”

Because my mother constantly commented on Juliet’s hips.

She would never give Juliet food with salt or lots of meat.

She had given her extra salad. No dressing, though.

“Mine was just okay, too,” Paul’s wife commented. “Paul, have some of my beer.”

Paul did, then shook his head. “I’m thinking we’ll need to stop past McDonald’s on the way home so I can eat one of their happy meals to get the taste out of my mouth. Ready?”

Paul stood up and grabbed his wife’s hand, pulling her as well.

He made it halfway out of the room before turning back and saying, “I won’t be representing you, Deiondre. I don’t represent people that are suing for stupid reasons.”

With that, he left, and my mother waited until the company was gone, door solidly closed, before turning to me and saying, “You bitch.”

“Are you using crass words, Mother?” I asked. “And are you calling me a bitch?”

“I’m calling her a bitch.” She pointed at Searcy.

“What did I do?” Searcy asked.

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