Read Pie A La Murder for Free Online Page A

did.

6

    A man, fortyish, whose once-blond hair was streaked with silver in a way that looks better on men than it does on women, said, “Hello, Liddy. Is this your daughter?”
    “Hello, Alec. No, this is my friend, Celeste.” She turned toward me. “And this is Della Carmichael—you know, In the Kitchen with Della , on TV.”
    “I don’t get to watch much television.” He extended his hand to me. “Alec Redding.”
    I took it and said hello. His palm was cool and dry.
    He was attractive in a kind of bland way, an older version of one of those surfer-type actors in movies from the sixties with names like Tab and Troy. His nicely chiseled face wasn’t familiar, which made me wonder if he’d come to California to be an actor but it hadn’t worked out and he’d become something else.
    Alec Redding was staring at Celeste. “You are absolutely gorgeous. Are you a model?”
    “No. I’m going to be an actress,” she said politely, while still scanning the faces in the ballroom.
    “I’m sure you’ll make it. I have a gift for spotting future stars.”
    “Are you an agent?” I asked.
    Redding blanched slightly, seemingly offended at my question.
    Liddy jumped in. “Alec is the best, most creative portrait photographer in Hollywood,” she said. “He has exhibits .”
    Now Celeste aimed a glorious smile at Redding.
    Redding warmed up again. “I haven’t had time to put an exhibit together for a while.” He turned his attention to Celeste. “So, who did your professional portfolio?”
    “I don’t have one.”
    “She just arrived in Los Angeles earlier this week,” Liddy said.
    There was an empty seat next to me. Redding indicated it and said, “Mind if I sit here until whoever comes?” Without waiting for an answer, he sat, pushed the china place setting toward the floral centerpiece, planted his elbow and forearm on the table, and leaned across me to talk to Celeste.
    “Let me do a portfolio for you. As stunning as you are, you’ll have to prove to the casting people that you photograph well. I know exactly what you’ll need to be allowed to audition for top roles.”
    Celeste bubbled with excitement. “That’s wonderful!”
    I asked, “How much do you charge?” I realized immediately that was none of my business, but it was too late.
    Redding looked annoyed. “The fee varies.”
    Liddy said to Celeste, “This is a great opportunity. Alec doesn’t photograph just anyone.”
    He gave a self-satisfied chuckle. “Fortunately, I don’t have to.”
    An angular woman with blue black hair gelled into spikes and eyes rimmed in dramatic black wings marched toward our table. She glared at Redding, her thin lips in a tight line.
    “Alec, Fannie Goldberg is looking for you,” she said.
    Hearing the woman’s voice, Redding stood up as though snapping to attention. “I’m coming, sweetheart.”
    “Hi, Roxanne,” Liddy said, and introduced us to Redding’s wife, adding, “This woman is a total genius at lighting.”
    “She’s my assistant,” Redding said. “I’d be lost without her.” He gave Liddy, Celeste, and me a sweeping smile. “Fannie Goldberg’s the new chief of Trans-Global Pictures. When you’re ready, you should meet her, Celeste.” He reached into the pocket of his gray cashmere jacket, pulled out a business card, and handed it to her. “Call me for an appointment.”
    “You’re heavily booked up, Alec,” Roxanne Redding said.
    “Darling Rox, we can always make time to launch a star of tomorrow.” He made the “call me” hand gesture to Celeste and followed his wife across the crowded ballroom.
    Liddy patted Celeste’s hand. “Being photographed by Alec Redding is a great professional opportunity.”
    “And his wife works with him? That’s good.” What I meant was it sounded safe .
    Celeste understood and shot me a glance of annoyance. “I can take care of myself.”
    I wanted to say, “Every eighteen-year-old girl thinks that,” but I didn’t.
    “Alec is