Two Cooks A-Killing Read Free Page A

and two men walked in one direction, while the other two men went the opposite way.
    â€œMerry Christmas to you, too,” Angie muttered, hands on hips. This did not bode well.
    â€œThey don’t talk to anyone who isn’t a star. Or their boss,” a male voice explained.
    She turned to see a young man standing in the doorway. He was movie-star handsome, with black hair and green eyes and a perfectly sculpted face. His tailored green plaid shirt was unbuttoned at the neckline, the sleeves rolled to the elbows displaying a Patek Philippe gold watch on a tanned wrist. Sliding his hands in his pockets, he strolled toward her, his gaze devouring her in a way that told her he liked what he saw.
    â€œWelcome to Eagle Crest,” he said with a cocky smile. “I’m one of the unfortunates who lives here.”
    Angie gawked. “You’re a Waterfield?” She never imagined anyone with his good looks would be part of the family.
    â€œSilver.”
    â€œJunior’s little brother! Somehow, I never got a chance to meet you.”
    His smile dissolved. “Sounds like you do know the family. I thought you were just trying a bit of one-upmanship with the crew. I expect they thought the same.”
    â€œPerhaps they weren’t completely wrong,” she admitted with a sly grin, “although our parents are old friends. My father is Sal Amalfi. My name’s Angie. I met your brother a couple of times when he dated my sister, Frannie.”
    â€œFrancesca Amalfi. Yes, I remember.” He slowly circled Angie as he spoke. Little puffs of plastic flew into the air and landed on his shoes. “Junior was quite gone over her. Didn’t last long, did it?” He stopped moving, his words more a statement than a question.
    â€œNo, it didn’t.” Angie hesitated to say more. Her sister Frannie wasn’t easy to get along with, but Junior must have been even more difficult, because Frannie broke it off after a couple of dates. In college, Frannie had hung around with the “in” sorority crowd and tried to go out as often as the most popular girls when she could find boys brave, daring, or desperate enough to date her. Young Waterfield was rich, and his family’s house had been on television. Her sorority sisters would have been “so totally” impressed, Angie would have sworn Frannie would continue to date himeven if he looked like the Incredible Hulk and had the personality of Hannibal Lecter. Strangely, she didn’t. “Is Junior here as well?” Angie asked.
    â€œHe still lives at home. Like me.”
    She glanced over the enormous house. The back of it was also festooned in Christmas lights. “I’m not surprised.”
    He followed her gaze, then placed his hand on the top rail of a wrought-iron chair, disturbing the fake snow. “This is a hard spot to leave,” he admitted. “Especially since my mother passed away, and Dad spends so much time in Los Angeles. Junior and I are the ones who look after the place. It’s probably the one thing we’re suited to do.” He gave a small smile, but his eyes held bitterness. “So, you’re here to work with this menagerie, are you?”
    She clasped her hands. “I’m looking forward to it.”
    â€œThat’ll change. If you found the crew rude, just wait until the cast shows up. I was a kid when they first swooped down on the house. They aren’t exactly here to win friends. They’d fight and backbite their way to winning a Miss Congeniality award.”
    She wasn’t surprised. “Who’s in charge?”
    â€œEmery Tarleton is the director. I guess he’s as close to running things as anyone. The producers never have shown up. I think they’re a conglomerate of suits, not human at all.”
    â€œIs Bart Farrell around?” Angie asked, looking from side to side in hopes the actor who played Cliff Roxbury, one of the favorite