Moonlight Becomes You Read Online Free Page A

been old Squire’s wedding present to Liam’s grandmother, Liam Moore Payne had bought a condominium on Willow Street. He used it regularly during the summer, but even after his sailboat was put into storage at the end of the season, he frequently would come down from Boston on weekends to escape the hectic world of international finance.
    The condo, a spacious four-room unit with high ceilings and a terrace overlooking Narragansett Bay, was furnished with the choice contents of the family home. When she had moved, his mother had said, “These things don’t work in Florida, and anyhow I never cared for any of it. You take them. You’re like your father. You love this heavy old stuff.”
    As Liam stepped from the shower and reached for a bath towel, he thought of his father. Was he really so much like him? he wondered. Upon arriving home after a day of trading on the ever-mercurial market, his father always had gone straight to the bar in the study and prepared himself a very dry, very cold martini. He would sip it slowly, then, visibly relaxed, he would go upstairs to bathe and dress for the evening.
    Liam toweled vigorously, half smiling at the thought that he and his father were very much alike, although they differed on the details. His father’s almost ritualistic soakswould have driven Liam crazy; he preferred a bracing shower. Also, he preferred his martini after he had bathed, not before.
    Ten minutes later, Liam stood at the bar in his study, carefully pouring Finlandia vodka into a chilled and ice-filled silver goblet and stirring. Then, straining the drink into a delicate stemmed glass, he drizzled a drop or two of olive juice over the surface, hesitated, and with an appreciative sigh, took the first sip. “Amen,” he said aloud.
    It was ten of eight. He was due at Nuala’s in ten minutes, and while it would take at least nine minutes to drive there, he wasn’t worried about being precisely on time. Anyone who knew Nuala was aware that her cocktail hour was apt to last at least until nine and sometimes later.
    Liam decided to allow himself a little downtime. He sank onto the handsome couch covered in dark brown Moroccan leather and carefully placed his feet on an antique coffee table that was shaped to resemble a stack of ancient ledgers.
    He closed his eyes. It had been a long and stressful week, but the weekend promised to be interesting.
    Maggie’s face floated into his mind. It was a remarkable coincidence that she happened to have a tie to Newport, a very strong tie, as it turned out. He had been astonished when he had learned of her connection to Nuala.
    He remembered how upset he had been when he realized that Maggie had left the party at the Four Seasons without telling him. Angry at himself for so thoroughly neglecting her, he had been anxious to find her and straighten out the situation. When his inquiries revealed that Maggie had been seen leaving with Nuala before dinner, he had had a hunch that they might be at Il Tinello. For a young woman, Maggie was pretty much set in her ways.
    Maggie. He pictured her for a moment, her beautiful face, the intelligence and energy that she radiated.
    Liam sipped the last of the martini and, with a sigh, hoisted himself out of his comfortable spot. Time to go, he thought. He checked his appearance at the foyer mirror, noting that the red-and-blue Hermès tie his mother had sent for his birthday went well enough with his navy blazer, although a traditional stripe might be better. With a shrug he decided not to worry about it; it really was time to go.
    He picked up his key ring, and, locking the door behind him, set off for Nuala’s dinner party.

5
    E ARL B ATEMAN WAS STRETCHED OUT ON THE COUCH, A glass of wine in his hand, the book he’d just finished on the table beside him. He knew it was time to change for Nuala’s dinner party, but he was enjoying a sense of leisure, using the moment to contemplate the