Mistletoe and Murder in Las Vegas Read Online Free Page A

walk.”
    “Right.” She paused. “But my point is, you need to stop making decisions without consulting me first—”
    “But you needed that speeding ticket case, Jo. Plus he paid you three-fifty, cash . Come tax time, you’ll thank me.”
    That speeding ticket had been her only case since being on her own, thanks to Gloria, who also told the guy the retainer was three-fifty if he paid cash, four if he wrote a check.
    “I needed it, that’s for sure. More than the money, it felt great to be a lawyer again. But let’s keep it to you referring clients, not negotiating deals on my behalf, okay? The attorney licensing agency tends to get cranky with lawyers whose clients know they’re clients before the lawyer does.”
    “I hear ya,” Gloria said softly. “No more negotiating. Sorry about telling Kimberly you’d sign that lease, too.”
    Sometimes her friend reminded her of a cannoli—hard shell on the outside, sweet and soft on the inside. Which made her a dynamite investigator, too. Many times Joanne had watched Gloria not take shit from thugs, while also earning their respect. And at the other end of the spectrum, she had a marvelously light, yet honest, approach with timid and fearful witnesses, who entrusted her with stories that sometimes broke cases wide open.
    It was the middle ground of life that Gloria often struggled with...the everyday, sometimes boring place where most of the world lived.
    “Guess I’ve been worried about you,” Gloria said. “Like this twenty-four-seven pajama thing.”
    “That’s because my casual clothes are still at Jamoke’s. He left another message with my mom that the house is available whenever I wish to pick up my things...God, I dread walking in and seeing Tiffanyisms everywhere...Eiffel Tower posters...the entire DVD collection of How I Met Your Mother ...teeth whitener strips.”
    “Forget about her. Screw your old clothes, too. Say yes the next time your mom wants to take you shopping...she’s a mother, y’know. She wants to do things for you.”
    “Including put me on a grapefruit diet and have me wear push-up bras, which would make a D-cup girl like me look like an explosion at Hoover Dam. Not for my career or health but to Get Roger Back . It’s like the feminist movement never happened.”
    “Yeah, she’s too hung up on you and Jamoke reuniting, but she’s got some feminism goin’ on...like starting that party business after her travel agency tanked. Lots of people fall down and stay there. Not your mom. Hafta admire that.”
    Rosemary Galvin, fifty-seven, still fit into her size-six wedding dress, knew more make-up tricks than Mrs. Houdini, and prepared dishes like braised squab with foie-gras hollandaise for Thanksgiving rather than a traditional turkey. Guidelines for living her sister Shannon employed religiously, and Joanne ignored. But then, Shannon ended up marrying a wealthy physician and living in a home out of Architectural Digest while Joanne was camping out in her parents’ guest room testing new flavors of Ben and Jerry’s.
    “She thinks Jamoke fooled around because I was working too much. Didn’t do enough cooking and cleaning.”
    “You’re not good at either of those.”
    “That fine point aside, more than once Mom has mentioned that a woman is responsible to keep the home fires burning …if you get my drift.”
    “Probably thinks she’s helping saying stuff like that.”
    Irritated her that Gloria was defending her mother, but it wasn’t the first time. Wouldn’t be the last, either. Her friend’s mom died when Gloria was a toddler, which seemed to have left her with a wistful idealism of motherhood.
    “Makes me wonder, though, if I didn’t stoke those fires enough. Or well. Guess I thought Jamoke and I were good in that department, occasionally porn-film good, but obviously something was lacking if he fell into lust with Tiffany the Tooth. Maybe it’s a blonde thing.”
    “Don’t be so hard on yourself, Jo. Men would