Here Comes the Body. Maria DiRico

in the air to indicate she was numero uno. So this was the woman turning 46th Place from geriatric to gentrified. Mia took an instant dislike to her.

      She handed the brochure back to Rose, who turned a page. “It’s in Syosset, so it’s not really near a shore. But it’s got what they call amenities, if you’re around long enough to use them. I didn’t want to go at first. But Felicity here made a very good point when she said I wasn’t gonna get sharper as time went on.”

      Mia fumed at the real estate agent’s manipulations. “That’s ridiculous. You’re sharp as a tack, always have been, and I’m sure you’ll stay that way.”

      Rose shrugged. “Yeah, but I figured, why take a chance? Might as well make the move now while I still know where I’m going.”

      “I guess. So, who bought your house? Who are our new neighbors?”

      “A very nice couple.”

      The cagey expression on Rose’s face belied her bland description. This roused Mia’s curiosity, but not enough to quell her hunger pangs. She could practically smell Elisabetta’s eggplant parmigiana from Rose’s house. “I better get going. If you give me the number of your movers, I’ll arrange for them to deliver everything. I can’t thank you enough for this, Rose.”

      “Please, I’m happy to help. Especially after what you’ve been through with that husband of yours, that Grosso character. They still haven’t found his body, have they?”

      “No.” Mia winced, recalling the awful weeks she’d endured after Adam’s disappearance. When her cheating spouse never showed up to work at one of the restaurants he managed, he was declared a missing person. Palm Beach PD considered Mia a suspect in his disappearance until the wreck of Adam’s cigarette boat, along with the body of his cocktail waitress mistress, were found off the shore of Paradise Island. Palm Beach PD declared Adam Grosso presumed dead due to a boating disaster, releasing Mia from suspicion but leaving her emotionally scarred.

      “If you ask me,” Rose said, “that son-of-a-you-know-what got the death he deserved.”

      Mia didn’t disagree.

      * * *

      The next couple of days were busy. Ravello’s accuser never reappeared and Mia assumed her father was right—the woman was a local nut job. Rose’s movers dropped off furniture and everything else the senior wouldn’t need in her new home, which was pretty much everything from her old home. Mia thanked her benefactor with a beautiful houseplant for her assisted living digs and a two-pound box of Perugina chocolates, both of which were appreciated. “The chocolate may kill me, but I’ll die happy,” Rose said. Cammie Dianopolis came over to help Mia organize her new wares and make sense of the décor, which Cammie described as “Neapolitan Bordello Chic” after laughing so hard, coffee came out her nose.

      At work, Mia found the perfect powerboat to deliver Alice to her reception, a stunning 1956 Cris-Craft Capri, and negotiated a great price for it. She and her father also worked out a system for engaging potential new customers. Ravello did a little glad-handing and gave a tour of Belle View’s facilities, then delivered them to Mia, who pitched a variety of packages that would make their wedding-anniversary-Sweet Sixteen-funeral luncheon an event they and their guests would never forget. If she heard the stale joke, “You’re making me an offer I can’t refuse” from one customer, she must have heard it from ten. She gritted her teeth and faked laughter. She’d live with a little mob notoriety if that’s what it took to close a deal.

      The night of Mia’s first official event, John Grazio’s bachelor party, arrived. She opened the Pick-U-Up app on her cell phone and swiped through drivers. No Jamie. Now she wondered if he was avoiding her, and tamped down a sudden rush of anxiety. He’s probably busy with classes, she thought, then repeated to herself, I’m not ready for a relationship, I’m not ready for a relationship. Having surrendered common sense and allowed herself to be swayed by Adam Grosso’s charm and sex appeal, Mia no longer trusted her instincts when it came to men. She chose a portly school bus driver moonlighting on the rideshare app as her driver.

      As soon as Mia got to Belle View, she called a meeting in the Bay Ballroom with the bachelor party staff of waiters, bartenders, and general help. Tables were set to accommodate fifty guests. Ravello had contributed his newly acquired napkin folding skills to the event, applying what he called “the Pyramid fold” to each one. Given that his skills were still rudimentary, to Mia’s eye the napkins less resembled pyramids than a certain part of the female anatomy. But she kept this observation to herself.

      Aside from the suggestive napkins, the only decorations on the tables were centerpieces featuring laminated Playboy centerfolds, provided by the groom-to-be himself. Mia assumed they were from John’s private collection. “Okay, gang,” she told the assembled troops who’d be working the party. “Tonight’s event could be tricky. A bunch of horny guys who’ll want to get drunk as fast as possible.”

      “Those napkins won’t cool them down.” This came from Giorgio, a new hire. He was a wiry guy in his twenties who came highly recommended by another Queens catering venue. But he packed so much attitude into his small frame that Mia wondered if his previous employer had simply grabbed an opportunity to unload him. Giorgio pointed to a napkin. “They look exactly like a woman’s va—”

      “Back to the drinks,” Mia said quickly. “Antony and Zeke, don’t make them strong, even if people complain.” She pointed to a brawny waiter with a buzz cut. “I’m promoting Cody to floor supervisor for the night. He’ll have a headset so he can reach me right away if there are any problems.”

      “I’m on it, ma’am.” Cody, a former Marine in his early thirties, saluted her. Mia gave her father props for hiring through a local returning veterans program. Guadalupe and Cody were proving the program to be a great source of dedicated, trustworthy employees.

      “These guys better be good tippers,” Giorgio muttered.

      “Concentrate on doing your job,” Mia said, trying to keep the annoyance she felt out of her voice.

      The staff dispersed to their stations while DJ DJ— the conveniently named Derrick Johnson—set up his equipment. A few of the party crew lingered behind to watch DJ. “He’s a total legend,” whispered Missy, a nineteen-year-old who waitressed and worked in the kitchen doing prep and plating meals for Guadalupe. “He DJs at all the cool clubs in Manhattan. He even changed his name so his initials spell DJ. And he’s hot.”

      Mia checked out the DJ and had to admit Missy was right. He had the chiseled bone structure of a romance novel cover hero, and the body to match. His shaggy black hair and bedroom eyes completed the picture. She guessed he was around her age and, for a split second, wondered if he had a girlfriend. A nauseous feeling in her gut instantly replaced this thought as Mia recalled the trauma of discovering her husband’s infidelity. Adam, running late to work, had left his cell phone behind on the kitchen counter. She was about to drive it over to him when the naked image of Laurel, a cocktail waitress who worked at Tutta Pasta, popped up on the screen. Mia could still visualize every sickening second of picking up the phone and seeing the come-hither image of the woman’s surgically enhanced body, down to the bright fuchsia lipstick on her filler-plumped lips. Not a flattering color, it clashed with her cheapo orange-hair dye job, and the fact that this image is still emblazoned on my brain means I am so not ready for a relationship.

      “It’s awesome Cammie was able to book him,” Missy said.

      “I guess that means we’re pretty awesome, too.” Mia cringed at how lame her response sounded. Missy gave a polite smile and retreated to the kitchen.

      “Check, check,” DJ said into a microphone. He followed this with a blast of sound that made Mia’s ears ring. She checked her watch, a delicate gold one her parents had given her for high school graduation. It was eight P.M. Bachelor party go time.

      Cody proved to be expert at keeping John’s guests under control, even preventing a few from losing their liquor in the ballroom by escorting them into the bathroom. This freed up Mia to manage the other event happening at Belle