Camilla T. Crespi - The Breakfast Club Murder by Camilla T. Crespi Page A

thoughts,” Beth said.
    “Great idea.” Valerie was Jessica’s stepmother now. Both she and Jess would have to learn to live with that. “How about food as a happy thought? You hungry? Let me try out one of my new recipes on you. Risotto with baby peas and shrimp. That would be nice for the dinner party on Saturday. Thanks again for that job, by the way. I can do it. Jess is going to a party that night. I’m thrilled to have the distraction. How did you get me the job on such short notice?”
    “Her regular caterer had to cancel. I know her son, who’s a client of mine. He asked me if I knew of anyone. Hey, you might know him. Jonathan Ashe. You probably fed him at one of Rob’s business dinners. He was on the fast track in Rob’s law firm. Curly blond hair, blue eyes, six feet or so, with a great dimple on one cheek? Once you saw him you wouldn’t forget him. He’s cute.”
    Lori shook her head. “I was so busy worrying that the dinner went perfectly I barely looked up at the guests.”
    “He’s on his own now, doing real estate and handling Mama’s money. Over the years Jonathan’s managed to convince her that buying art is a good investment.” When Beth’s husband, Larry, died, she had stopped being a social worker to run his art gallery.
    “What about veal rollatini with a pancetta and porcini mushroom stuffing, or scaloppine with lemon and capers?”
    “Stop, I’m gaining weight just listening to you.” Beth turned her chair so that she was facing the hallway. “When I said ‘let’s think happy thoughts’ I was referring to that humongous mass of flowers from Mr. Alec Winters. It’s a great mood enhancer. Does he live near here?”
    “There was no address.”
    “Call the florist and tell them you’ve got something of his you need to return. If they still won’t give you his address, mail them your thank-you note and ask them to forward it.”
    “If he wanted to let me know how to find him, he would have, right?”
    “Stop being passive. You’re divorced now. Life’s in your hands.”
    “Well, he’s supposedly sending me a recipe. Maybe it will come with a return address.”
    Beth got out of her chair. “Where’s your laptop?”
    “Next to the microwave. Why?”
    Beth walked over to the kitchen counter and opened up the laptop. “I’m going to Google Mr. Alec Winters. You don’t give up on someone who sends you that kind of bouquet. Not only can he afford those flowers, he’s sensitive, sweet, romantic, and he knows recipes. He’s ideal, Lori. Get it? Ideal!”
    “I don’t even remember what he looks like.”
    “Ugly you’d remember.”
    “He probably lives in Alaska. And anyway, I’m not interested in men right now.”
    “You don’t have to marry him, Lori. Just think of him as another great distraction. If he’s in Alaska you can e-mail each other, talk about food, Italy, anything. Communicate.” Beth turned around and looked fiercely at Lori. “Living alone sucks, so whatever you can do—”
    “I’ve got Jessica.”
    “And I’ve had the twins all these years, but children don’t replace a man. It’s not just sex. It’s having an adult companion, someone to share adult thoughts with, someone who can take over if you lose it. You and Janet and Margot have been great, but it’s not enough. I don’t mean to scare you, Lori, but it’s been godawful since Larry died.” Beth burst into tears. “Just hell.”
    Lori was taken aback. She’d always thought of Beth as a pillar of strength. Margot even called her Concrete Beth, both because she was the realist among the three friends and because of her strength. Beth had faced her husband’s slow death from leukemia without a tear or complaint. At Larry’s funeral and in the months afterward she had concentrated on helping her children and Larry’s friends deal with their grief. Now here was Concrete Beth crying like a child. Lori hugged her. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea. You never said anything.”
    “I