for the entire room to hear. "He has this thing about wanting to surf the Maroubra on Christmas
morning and I'm like, 'Daddy! Get a life!' I mean, I love that he's adventurous
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and all, but he can surf whenever. He already promised the whole family would go to St. Bart's
with the Langes for Christmas, and I was not letting him go back on that one."
"Surfing in Australia? Oh my God, your dad makes my dad sound like a total geriatric loser," Missy
said with a snort.
"I wouldn't mind going to Australia with him and watching him surf," Missy added, dropping her
Louis Vuitton bag down on the counter. "I saw him when he dropped you off in September, and
he's pretty much the hottest dad on earth."
I glanced at Amberly, who looked momentarily grossed-out, as any daughter would be at hearing
such a thing, but then she laughed.
"Put your wallet away and order whatever you want," she said, waving a hand at Lorna. "It's on
the company. Daddy totally owes me."
I narrowed my eyes at Amberly. She looked different somehow. Softer. Her blond hair was
straightened again and tucked back behind her ears instead of overly styled. She wore less
makeup than usual, making her look slightly older and more sophisticated. Then there were her
clothes. She had unbuttoned her white coat, and underneath were a white turtleneck sweater,
skinny jeans, and fringed suede boots with wool peeking out the tops. Her bag was a structured,
dark green croc satchel. Looking at the shoes and bag, I realized what had changed. She wasn't as
severely matchy as she normally was. She looked as if she had just thrown the outfit together
instead of thinking about it for days on end. Which only made her look cooler.
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"Thank you so much, Amberly!" Missy gushed, double air-kissing the girl as she retrieved her huge
coffee.
"Yeah. This is way cool," Kiki added in her signature monotone. She had, of course, gotten a mocha
frap with double whip and chocolate shavings. All about the sugar, that one.
Damn. Even realizing that I knew Kiki's coffee preferences made me nostalgic.
Okay, Reed. Get a grip. Back to the task at hand.Endeavoring to ignore the Billings Girls and how
left out I felt, I went back to my list of suspects. I lifted my red pen and finally did what I had been