Kisser

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Stone Barrington and his former NYPD partner, Dino Bacchetti, were dining in the company of herself, Elaine, who, as usual, was making her rounds. “So?” Elaine asked as she joined them.

“Not much,” Dino replied.

Stone was deep into his spaghetti alla carbonara.

“Nice, isn’t it?” she asked. Elaine had a good opinion of her food.

“Mmmmf,” Stone replied, trying to handle what he had stuffed into his mouth and speak at the same time.

“Never mind,” Elaine said. “Enjoy.”

Stone swallowed hard and nodded. “Thank you, I am.”

The waiter came with the wine and poured everybody a glass.

Stone began to take smaller bites, so as to better participate in the conversation. As he took his first sip of wine, he froze.

Dino stared at him. “What’s the matter? Am I gonna have to do a Heimlich?”

Stone set down the glass but said nothing. He was following the entrance of a very beautiful woman. She was probably five-eight or -nine, he thought, and closer to six feet in her heels. She was dressed in a classic Little Black Dress that set off a strand of large pearls around her neck. Fake, probably, but who cared? She had honey-blond, shoulder-length hair and a lot of it, cascades of it, big eyes, and plump lips sporting bright red lipstick. Dino and Elaine followed Stone’s gaze as the woman turned to her left and sat down at the bar.

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