Book 22 in the Alex Delaware series, 2002

Kat loved breaking the rules.

Don’t talk to strangers.

She’d talked to plenty of them tonight. Danced with a few, too. If you could call the way those losers moved dancing. The big, scary consequence: a stomped toe, courtesy of a loser in a red shirt.

Don’t go crazy mixing your drinks.

Then how did you account for Long Island Iced Tea, which was basically everything tossed together and the best buzz in the world?

She’d had three tonight. Plus the tequila shots and the raspberry beer and the weed the guy in the retro bowling shirt had offered her. Not to mention… hard to remember. Whatever.

Don’t drink and drive.

Yeah, great plan. What was she supposed to do tonight, let one of those losers drive her Mustang home?

The plan was Rianna would limit herself to two drinks and be the designated wheel-girl so Kat and Bethie could party. Only Bethie and Rianna hooked up with a couple fake-o blond guys in fake-o Brioni shirts. Brothers, some kind of surfboard business in Redondo.

We’re thinking maybe we’ll go party with Sean and Matt, giggle, giggle. If that’s cool with you, Kat.

What was she supposed to say? Stay with me, I’m the ultimate loser?

So here she was three, four a.m., staggering out of the Light My Fire, looking for her car.

God, it was so dark, why the hell didn’t they have outside lights or something…?

She took three steps and one of her spike-heels caught on the asphalt and she stumbled, nearly twisting her ankle.

Fighting for balance, she righted herself.