Read Party Girl (West Coast Girlz: Book Three) Online
Authors: Sandra Edwards
Tags: #contemporary romance
Party Girl (West Coast Girlz: Book Three)
PARTY GIRL
West Coast Girlz: Book 3
by
Sandra Edwards
Party Girl
Copyright © 2012 Sandra Edwards
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from Sandra Edwards.
Published by Amazon KDP
Seattle, WA
Electronic KDP Edition: July, 2012
This book is a work of fiction and all characters exist solely in the author's imagination. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Any references to places, events or locales are used in a fictitious manner.
CHAPTER 1
CASEY ROBERTS LOATHED WAITING
. Tardiness showed a blatant disregard for the other party—in this case
her
. The only thing worse than being late was not showing up at all.
She glanced around the restaurant, then checked her watch. Her appointment was ten minutes late. She had no idea why Judge Chase Hamilton had asked to meet her at Mario’s for a late lunch—which some could’ve argued was an early dinner this late in the afternoon—but they were going to have to get a few things straight, beginning with the importance of common courtesy.
Hunger pangs rumbled in Casey’s stomach, setting her on edge. To hell with it, she was ordering. She flagged down the waitress.
The girl approached with a smile. “The other party is running a bit late?” she asked, as if it were no big deal.
“Yes.” Casey nodded. “I’m going to go ahead and order.”
The waitress pulled her pad from her apron. “Great. What can I get for you?”
“A burger and fries,” she said. “And perhaps a refill on my iced tea.”
Ten minutes later, Casey was munching on her food, and the judge still hadn’t shown up.
This is bullshit
, she thought, popping a French fry into her mouth. As far as judges go, Chase Hamilton was young, in his mid to late thirties, but youth was no excuse. And he might look like he’d just stepped out of GQ, but that didn’t give him the right to blow people off like this—even if he had made the list of L.A. Afternoon’s
Most Eligible Bachelors
three years in a row. Chase Hamilton could definitely have his pick.
So what’d he ask me here for anyway?
Surely this wasn’t about Peter’s tactics in court the other day.
Casey and Peter Cummings practiced law at the same firm. They were often paired as co-counsel, working well together, although Casey didn’t care much for his courtroom antics. Peter had a habit of trying judges’ patience with unsubstantiated facts, among other things. And just the other day he’d really pissed off Judge Hamilton by reintroducing facts that had already been ruled inadmissible.
But why the hell was Casey paying for it? Not showing up seemed like a rather petty antic for a judge. Maybe, once she was done with lunch, she’d go back to her office and give him a call. She wanted to know why he’d set up the appointment and then stood her up.
Casey finished lunch, ordered a latte to go, and after settling her bill and tip with the waitress, she collected herself and headed for the door. Glancing at her watch—6:35—she thought about calling Rosanna and Veronica. Maybe they’d like to get together for drinks later. Rosanna had just returned from the Sierra foothills, and Casey wanted the dirt on Jase Elliot.
A few steps from the exit, Casey inadvertently checked the opened doorway to the bar. Sitting in the middle of the counter, talking to a guy on his left, was none other than Judge Chase Hamilton. The stool to his right was empty, and Casey saw no reason not to approach him from that side.
With her long legs, Casey easily strutted across the bar’s open expanse in just a few steps. She didn’t recall his email saying anything about meeting him in the bar. Maybe she’d misunderstood.
She leaned against the bar and waited for him to look at her. When he did, she smiled. “I didn’t realize we were supposed to meet at the bar.”
He looked her over, one corner of his mouth turning up with a mocking smile. “I’ve never heard that one before.”
Annoyance, entwined with a bit of confusion, surged up into Casey’s throat, nearly choking her. “Seriously? Are you kidding me?”
The judge looked at Casey with vague familiarity, which pissed her off even more. Narrowing his eyes, he said, “I beg your pardon?”
“You’ve got nerve. I’ll give you that.”
“Miss…” His forehead wrinkled, drawing his eyebrows together. “Is there someone I can call for you?”
Unbelievable. He had no idea who she was. There were two reasons why his arrogant ass should. First, because he was Rosanna’s cousin. Granted, they didn’t hang out in the same circles, but he had seen Casey with Rosanna upon occasion, and they’d been introduced. Secondly, and more annoyingly, he should recognize her because she frequented his courtroom several times a month during divorce and custody proceedings.
Casey’s annoyance morphed into full-fledged anger. The judge had a nearly-full draft in front of him. She scanned the immediate area on the bar. Not much there. Just a bowl of peanuts.
Ahhh…what the hell
. He deserved it. Casey stifled the mischievous laugh trying to claw its way up her throat. She snagged the bowl, dumped it upside-down over his beer and left it sitting there on top of his glass.
“What the…?” Chase leaped to his feet and shoved his barstool back, then settled his menacing gaze on Casey. “Are you mad?”
She thought about it, propped her hand on one hip, and said, “Yes. I guess I am.” She tipped her head and gave him a one-sided shrug. “Enjoy your evening.” Casey took a step back, turned and strutted out.
* * *
A three-way call was a popular communications technique for Casey and her best friends Rosanna and Veronica when they weren’t able to get together in person.
Casey moved about the kitchen, filling a glass with ice and water while her Bluetooth headset kept her in the conversation.
“So when are we going to meet the ever-elusive, yet equally hot Jase Elliot?” Veronica’s insistent voice poured over the airwaves.
Rosanna giggled. “At the party.”
“Party?” Casey asked, sipping water as she headed to the couch in the living room.
“Don’t give me that!” Rosanna’s stern tone raised the hair on Casey’s neck. “You know very well what I’m talking about. Mirabelle Winery’s masquerade party on the 22
nd
.” Silence stifled the air around Casey. “You
are
coming...?”
“Of course I’m coming.” Casey propped her feet up on the coffee table—something she took great pleasure in doing, having been chastised for it as a child.
“Do you have your costume yet?” Rosanna asked.
“Yes...” Casey let the word drag out on a secretive tone.
“Well...?” Veronica chimed in.
“Nuh-uh.” Casey shook her head.
“Oh, come on...” Rosanna drawled. “I need to make sure we don’t show up in the same costume.”
While her argument was a good one, it wasn’t good enough to convince Casey. “Never in a million years will you and I show up in the same costume.” Casey paused. “Nope. You, like everyone else, will see my costume on the night of the party.”
“Okay. Make sure you show up on time,” Rosanna said.
“Okay. Make sure you’ve got that hottie Jase Elliot front and center.” Casey waited for a comeback, but only heard Veronica’s soft laughter. “Niko’s coming, right?”
Figures. Veronica and Rosanna both had found their
princes
, while Casey was doomed to live a life of loveless solitude.
CHAPTER 2
CASEY HAD GONE
to great lengths to authenticate her costume. From the tight, mustard-colored sweater and matching silk scarf, down to the dark-gray pencil skirt, Mary Janes, a shoulder-length blonde wig and a beige beret.
Heading for the front door, she paused by the table in the foyer long enough to grab her keys and delicately pick up the Victorian Venetian mask, which for most of the evening would hide roughly three-quarters of her face.
Casey hurried outside to the limo waiting to take her to Leslie’s, the venue Mirabelle Winery had secured for the party.
Alone in the back of the limo, she fingered the silver glitter sparkling on the face of the black mask. She trailed her fingers over the soft, black feathers and the black rose decorating the left side. No matter how gothic-looking, it was a beautiful mask, and better still, it would cover most of her face. Only her closest friends would recognize her.
Casey liked that idea. Tonight she was going to have some fun. She would be a true
party girl
, and no one would be the wiser.
The ten-minute ride to Leslie’s moved by in silence with Casey mindlessly watching the light traffic and the neon signs flickering off as merchants closed up shop for the evening.
Finally arriving, the limo rolled to a stop at the red carpeted entryway. Promptly, an attendant rushed over to open the car door. After securing her mask in place with the elastic band, she stepped out of the car, then straightened her skirt and smoothed her sweater.
The attendant smiled. “Well, Ms Parker. It’s nice of you to join us.”
“Huh?” she said, as he shut the car door. Then it hit her. “Oh yeah…”
I’m Bonnie Parker
. She giggled and moved toward the open double doors.
“Invitation, please?” the doorman requested. Casey fished the card out of her handbag and offered it to him with a smile. He looked at it, and said, “Thank you,” stepping aside.
Casey strolled through the doors, almost wishing she’d brought the toy gun. But ultimately, she was glad she’d had the forethought to nix that costume ornament. She wanted to have fun—not get arrested.
“Oh. My. God.” Veronica, dressed in a pirate’s costume and a glittering gold and black mask, approached Casey.
Casey struck a pose. “What do you think?”
Rosanna strolled in from the opposite side that Veronica had come from. “Holy crap!” Rosanna flowed across the room in her long, graceful gown. The half-face Venetian butterfly mask didn’t hide her smile, which made her recognizable to her friends.
“You look like you just stepped straight out of Bonnie and Clyde.” Veronica paused, giving Casey’s costume a good inspection. Casey could easily guess she was running off a mental checklist in her head, ticking off each piece of Faye Dunnaway’s famous costume from the movie. “Wait until Niko sees this. He’s going to freak.”
“You’re not going to believe this.” Rosanna grabbed Casey’s arm. “Come on.” She dragged Casey into the ballroom, with Veronica trailing close behind.
“What? Where’s the fire?” Casey almost stumbled but latched onto Veronica, catching her fall.
Rosanna trudged on. “You are not going to believe this.” She stopped at the edge of the dance floor and, from the back, tapped a tall, well-built man on the shoulder.
