Menu for Murder - a teaser

Here is just a snippet of the beginning of Menu for Murder.  I hope it's enough to make you want to read more.

“Jayne, run these drinks out and please don’t spill any this time.”

“Hurry up and take this tray of appetizers to the guests before they get cold.”

“Girl, bring me the dirty wine glasses and try not to break any on the way to the kitchen.”

That’s me they’re ordering around, Jayne Stanford, server not so extraordinaire. I was asked—actually required—by my boss at Wild Bronco Steakhouse, to work a private cocktail party tonight hosted at the home of the mayor of our southwestern Arizona town. Even though my manager knew I rebuffed the mayor’s advances on more than one occasion, I either needed to work the party or look for another job. When your eyes are bigger than your budget, you don’t pass up the opportunity for a few extra dollars.

I love my job at the restaurant but the guests at this party were enough to make me want to pull my hair out, strand by curly strand. If one more person calls me girl, snaps his fingers or whistles for me to bring his drink, I might have to use this fork for something other than what it was intended.

I recognized some of the most affluent and distinguished Cave Creek, Arizona business people as I dashed back and forth with round after round of cocktails. I also noticed an alarming number of fresh-faced females floating about. I had to wonder if a sorority bus had dropped them off at the wrong party. Not that I was more than a few years older, but in my waitress outfit I was feeling a smidgen inadequate in comparison.

The clock finally chimed midnight as I hauled the last of the Baccarat glassware from the dimly lit flagstone patio into the mayor’s gourmet kitchen. My aching back gave a last spasm in relief to see the guests start to drift away, and I intended to follow close behind them. I picked up my pace anxious to bring this night to an end and hurry home to my perpetually hungry cat and the home shopping channel.

Unfortunately for me, or maybe for the guests, this evening had turned out to be forty people who all expected a level of service way beyond my capacity. With only one caterer, one bartender and me as the lone server, I needed wings to fly from kitchen to patio. In my short career, I had never seen people gobble up free food faster than this group. I felt as drained as the empty wineglasses. Sweat plastered my shirt to my back and, with each step, I counted the bones in my feet.

If that wasn't bad enough, I still felt the embarrassment the mayor caused me earlier in the evening. He made quite a spectacle of me before his guests as I served a tray of appetizers.

I shuddered at the memory, recalling the expectant looks on the faces as the mayor said, “Jayne, I’ve been bragging about your unique memory to my guests all evening.” He rested a beefy hand on my lower back. “Tell my guests what I ordered when I was at the restaurant last month. No pressure, my dear, but I've got a hefty bet riding on this." He took the tray from my hands and set it on a nearby table.

My chest tightened momentarily and a volcano of heat exploded up my neck, on display for the entertainment of the mayor’s guests. My mind shut down. Nothing, nada, nil. Ten sets of eyes bore into me, waiting for me to perform like a trained circus elephant. The mayor pressed his body closer. I bounced on the balls of my feet.
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Happy trails, 

Leslie