Page 167 of Sapphire Sunset

Chip Murdoch stepped through the sliding door past Naser,but not before clapping the guy on the back so hard he stumbled and rolled hiseyes. Now that he went almost everywhere with his girlfriend of five months,Donna Langdon, he’d stopped wearing the Chip’s Kicks branded gear he’d worn toevery outing except for the dinner party where he met Connor. Neither one ofthem looked ready to dance at the Rainbow Room, but their jeans looked ironed,and Donna had clearly made Chip wear one of the few T-shirts he owned that didn’thave an offensive saying written on it.

“How’s everybody doing?” Chip boomed. “IsNashelping you guys cheat on your taxes too?”

“We are notcheatingon your taxes,” Naser shoutedfrom the kitchen. “We’re filing them on time so you don’t have to pay apenalty. I know it’s a big change for you, but it’s not against the law. Quitethe opposite, in fact.”

“Are you paying inhalfhens or whole hens?” Donniegrumbled.

“I heard that, Donnie!” Naser called.

Once he finished securing one end of the lantern strand tothe hook he’d screwed into place, Logan descended the ladder and startedunspooling the rest of the strand across the grass.

“Honestly,” Chip said, “given the taxes we pay in thisstate, we should have a monorail that goes to the front door of everybody’shouse.”

“No politics, Chip.” Donna said. “It’s a housewarming, not abarn burning.”

“Well, if I want to burn through my own money, I should beable to burn through it on something stupid. Like buying my son a drill he canfigure out how to use.”

“Dad, seriously?” Logan barked. “Donnie, go get some of thatred wine and turkey casserole we got for the old man. He could use a nap beforedinner.”

“Oh, don’t worry about him,” Connor said. “Now that he’s gotDonna, he tires out after a few minutes and goes quiet.”

“Yeah, well Igottasave up energyfor this one.” Chip grinned. “She keeps me burning the midnight oil, if youknow what I mean.”

Donna whacked Chip across the back of the head so hard itwas a good thing he didn’t wear dentures. But that only made Chip’s grin widen,suggesting this kind of roughhousing was exactly what kept them up so late.

Connor’s mother emerged from the back door like a hurricaneof bright couture, sunglasses still on, phone still in hand. Connor couldn’ttell if her hair was windblown or if she’d styled it that way on purpose.“Boys, I’m so sorry I’m late.”

“You’re not late.” Connor threw his arms around her.

“It’s my friend Lisa, her divorce…it’s just endless. It’sjust an endless, unfolding disaster of successive disasters.”

And if I don’t stop this now,we will betalking about it all night.

“Oh, I know,” Connor said. “It’s just awful when affluentwomen get millions of dollars in a divorce settlement from a husband they’ve beenwith for six months.”

“Mind your tongue, young man. She actually sort of likedthis one. When you find a tech billionaire that’s willing to learn foot massagefor you, you hold on to him. Until he sleeps with your cousin. Anyway.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve got a former Marine who does stuff to mybody that none of you want to hear about,” Connor said.

In the end, there weren’t so many twigs in the dinner platesthat they couldn’t shake them out with minimal effort, and the potluck-stylebuffet had something for everyone’s liking. And the string lanterns, even inparallel strands, sent a lovely glow across the grassy but still unfinishedbackyard. Even if the candles blew out after three minutes. Connor was willingto take the wins along with the losses. Sometimes the things about a guy thatallowed him to wreck your ass to your satisfaction also meant he’d wreck yourdinner party before the guests showed up.

At the end of the meal, Logan rose from his folding chairand lifted a glass of wine. “A toast,” he said, “or I should say, a series oftoasts.”

“Oh, boy,” Connor muttered.

“First, to the chaplains at Mendota Federal Prison, who Ihear are doing a bang-up job handling Rodney Harcourt’s super convenientconversion to Christianity, which they’ll have to tolerate for three years atleast since a term of his plea deal was no parole.”

There were whoops and hollers around the table.

“God bless ’emall,” Connor said,and they all raised their glasses and drank.

“And second, to Sapphire Cove’s insurance company for reachingreasonable settlements with most of Rodney’s victims. Although I’m told theother negotiations are proceeding in a positive direction.”

“And we are barred from disclosing the content of thosenegotiations at this time,” Connor interjected quickly. “But we should stilltoast them nonetheless.”

Everyone drank.

“No offense here,” Chip said, “but don’t we rattle off whothe toasts are for and then drink once? I mean, if we keep this up, I’m goingto have to whiz before we get to the part where we thank Jesus.”

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