Page 91 of Whirlwind

“What is this booze called?”Alicia asked Lenore as she sipped on her cocktail.

“It’s guaro,”said Lenore. “I fell in love with it in Costa Rica. We brought a couple of bottles back.”

“So good.” Alicia sloshed the lime around her sugar-rimmed glass.

“This Costa Rican rum is tasty too.” Tania raised her glass. “I’ve never had a better Mojito.”

“Me too.” Lenore handed a cocktail to Gigi. “Mojito, my dear?”

“Yes, please!” Gigi took a deep swallow, her eyes fluttering closed. “So good.”

“Your backyard looks fantastic, Lenore,” Mom murmured. “You put a lot of work into this. Good for you. It’s lovely.”

“Thank you. I’m really proud of it. It took a few years, but it’s where I want it at last. I put Finger to hard labor too, so I finally got the fencing I wanted and finished the stone borders.”

“Looks terrific,” I said, sipping on my guaro sour.

Lenore’s garden was a gorgeous haven. Perfect for a ladies’ cocktail party. The sun had set and the outdoor lights twinkled all around us.

“Georgia, your charcuterie skills are fab.” Alicia filled her plate.

“Thank you. I had a terrific assistant today.”

I raised my glass at Alicia, and she winked at me.

“Lenore—this is incredible.” Mom held up a bottle of liquor. “You have the same bourbon that I do. You can only get this in Tennessee.”

“Beck got it for us.”

Mom put the bottle back on the table. “Your son has excellent taste.”

“Thank you, I certainly think so,” said Lenore. “He was working in Nashville recently and sent us a case.”

“No kidding—” Mom’s eyes widened. “—Violet was just in Nashville too.”

Gigi shot darts at me with her pointed gaze. My throat constricted, the prosciutto jamming in the back of my mouth. I gulped at my drink.

“Really?” Lenore and Mom both stared at me, smiling. Mom’s innocent. Lenore’s knowing.

Guaro sour sputtered from my lips. “I was visiting family.” I wiped at my mouth.

“I have cousins in Tennessee,” said Mom. “And this bourbon has been our one and only for decades, right, Mom?”

“Yes indeedy.” Gigi grinned.

“We’re really enjoying it. Finger loves it,” said Lenore. “Incredible flavor, so smooth. Truly unlike any other bourbon I’ve tasted. Beck sent us a variety of bottles. It’s made me a fan.”

“It’s a small distillery, family-owned.” Mom sipped her Mojito. “What are the chances?”

“What a small world,” Gigi said loudly, her cheeks suddenly rosy.

Lenore’s laser-like eyes landed on me, and I shot up from my chair as if it had been electrified. “I need another drink. Anyone?” My phone beeped, and I whipped it out of my pocket, stopping dead in my tracks.

“Violet.

Hi, Violet.

Violet, Violet

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