Luck Be a Lady (Tahoe Tessie Mysteries) by Gemma Halliday, T.Sue VerSteeg

immediately got that familiar lump in my throat.
    "Like him, it's an oldie but goodie. Here's to you, Mr. King, wherever you are," he said. Then he started crooning "Thanks for the Memory."
    I found myself silently singing along, my mind tripping over my own old memories of my dad as my gaze wandered over the patrons of the restaurant. It wasn't packed, but there was a decent dinner crowd gathering. The bar was still sparsely populated. I watched as a young Joe Pesci look-alike sat down on one of the leather stools. Short, dark hair, dressed all in black, even sporting a leather dress coat. I found myself grinning as the guy greeted the bartender with the same, "Hey, how ya doin'? Right, right?" as Pesci's character in My Cousin Vinny .
    "Pesci" ordered a drink, sipped at it, listened to the Sinatra impersonator a bit. He'd almost faded from my thoughts when I spotted Buddy Weston walk in and sit on the stool next to him.
    I narrowed my eyes. What was Weston doing here? Britton had made it pretty clear that he wasn't welcome.
    As he slipped off his suit coat, the glare from his signature silk shirt nearly lit up the area around him. I was about to get up and tell Weston to take a hike when another man sat down on the other side of Mr. Pesci. As he stole a wary glance over his shoulder, I recognized the freckled face of the casino's valet. He leaned in, addressing both Pesci and Weston.
    I raised an eyebrow. Now this was interesting. I desperately wanted to hear what they were whispering but couldn't figure a feasible way to get closer without being recognized. Or looking like I was shamelessly eavesdropping. I watched as Weston pulled an envelope from the jacket draped over his arm and passed it under the counter to Pesci. The valet yanked it between them. I saw both men flipping through the contents but wasn't close enough to confirm what it was. Whatever it was, they both seemed satisfied, as Pesci nodded at Weston, clapping him jovially on the back. Weston slipped off his stool, threw his jacket on, and walked away. Downing their drinks, Pesci and the freckled valet followed him out the door a few minutes later.
    Whatever that exchange had been about, it didn't feel right. I had no idea who Pesci was, but I couldn't imagine a good reason for the owner of a competing casino to be passing an envelope to one of our employees. I made a mental note to pull the freckle-faced guy's employee file later.  
    I was mulling over the different possibilities for the envelope's contents when Tate cleared his throat in front of me.
    "Tessie King, as I live and breathe, there are better ways to pick up guys." He bobbed his head toward the men's room door.
    I pulled myself out of my thoughts and shook my head. "Apparently, if you dine alone in this establishment, you are just begging for the worst table in the house." I glanced around at the empty prime spots, heaving a sigh.
    Tate grabbed my hand, yanking me to my feet. He pulled me behind him to a table with a spectacular view of the lake and the sun setting on the horizon. Then he turned and loudly proclaimed directly at the maître de, "No one puts Tessie King in a corner."
    I watched with a little more than my fair share of contentment as the man's goateed jaw dropped to his chest. He nearly fell over several other customers as he darted to our table.
    "Whatever you want, Ms. King, it's on the house," he babbled as he smoothed the table cloth and swatted non-existent crumbs to the floor.
    Tate's eyes lit up. "She'll have an apple-tini, please." He leaned across the table and whispered, "Did you want one, too?"
    I nodded, "Sure, why not."
    "Okay, so two, please. And don't be a stranger."
    "And a burger for me," I added as the maître de walked away.
    He bowed slightly toward the table in acknowledgement, before turning to jog to the bar. Leaning in, he whispered in the bartender's ear. The man mixed our drinks with such fervor you'd have thought James Bond himself had ordered them.