Chapter 42

A faux diamond evening dress conceals most of Gillian’s slender body as she greets them at the flat’s door. “So glad you could make it, my loves. You two are the perfect addition to any party.” She kisses their cheeks, grins from ear to ear, and swoops the bottle of champagne away from Jason. “Come, my dears. Come in and enjoy yourselves. Almost all the guests have arrived.” Gillian glides across the floor, through her guests, and dumps the bottle on one of the three hired wait staff.

If Jason doesn’t know any better, he thinks that Gillian’s drunk, high, or both. Rarely does she ever speak Hollywoodlike this, if ever. And never has her makeup smeared like it is now, a train wreck on her face, which usually is a sure sign that she’s enjoyed her share of European-imported brandy or a pinkish-white powder up her nose called Bliss.