Like a petulant child he snapped. ” “Sir John,” Miss Pellissier said impressively, “has asked your sister to be his wife. Have you been inhaling the fumes inside Missy’s car?” She had pushed the exact right button. He moved her dress from her shoulders and off her torso. She imagined descending the stairs, hearing Mike’s uproarious laughter as she peeked around a vacant corner with a lump in her throat. His advice was mostly practical. Several people were passed out on the sectional sofa, and muffled noises emanated from other rooms indicating that the party’s embers were still smoldering, but John was nowhere to be seen.
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