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288 pages, Paperback
First published February 28, 2002
“Christina’s got the goods. David doesn’t care. And I want them hitched. So that’s that.”
“‘Umm… where’s the cocktail sauce?’ Christina whispered to Edmund, who had taken up his post by the window, four feet behind her.
Edmund leaned forward. ‘I beg your pardon, ma’am?’
‘The cocktail sauce,’ she said loudly and slowly, as if speaking to someone developmentally delayed. ‘For. The oysters.’
‘It comes with a vinaigrette,’ David explained. ‘Try it, I think—’
‘I think I’ll barf if I have to suck down raw oysters without cocktail sauce.’
[…]
‘Well, hell, my rights are being stomped on!’ said Christina.
[…]
‘I mean, Jesus, you guys are lucky I’m even willing to eat these things.’”
“‘Yeeek!’The plate went flying, her tomato slices parted ways with the bread, her chair slammed back onto the floor, her legs went over her head, and then he was nuzzling her neck and groping under her shirt. ‘Subtlety, thy name is not—that tickles!’ Her legs sticking up in the air as they were, it was difficult to get leverage to fend him off. Not that she entirely wanted to.”
