Staring at the reflective elevator door, I didn't
recognize the middle-aged face staring back at me.
When had I
grown so old? When had gray become the dominant color of my dark brown hair?
And please, tell me, where the hell had I picked up those doggie jowls?
Cassie Thorpe, my best friend since, well, what
seemed forever, looked into the reflection.
"What are you doing?" She cocked her head
in that funny way she always does when she's questioning my sanity. This time
she added crossed arms and a hitched eyebrow.
"Wondering how age snuck up and attacked me
without my knowledge." I peered at my likeness, my finger tracing a line
from my nose to my chin around what used to be a full voluptuous mouth.
"Oh, God."
I watched Cassie roll her eyes as she uncrossed her
arms and adjusted the purse on her shoulder. She shook her head and blew air
between her lips.
"Lucy, just schedule a face lift. I told you I'd
front you the money."
The elevator had reached the top floor of the
Equitable Building in downtown Salem. The interior had recently undergone a
major renovation and featured Italian marble in most of the lobby and down the
hallways. Small areas of plush carpet covered the remainder of the floor. The
new owners had muted the government gray walls with a faux Tuscan-inspired
paint, adding art deco sconces to the walls. Bronze lamps hung from the
cathedral ceiling adding a touch of elegance to the lobby area. Dark leather
couches and chairs placed in comfortable conversation settings invited the
visitor to stop and admire the effect. Every effort had been made to rid the
visitor of the government feel of the square, granite and smoked-glass
building.
"Where are we going again?" I followed
Cassie out of the lift toward a hallway that wound to sculpted, cherry-stained
office doors bearing the gold suite number.
She placed a hand on the gold-plated door handle and
turned as she spoke to me. "My lawyer. Bobby's balking about handing over
the chalet at Mt. Bachelor."
"Oh."
We entered an office painted in muted tones of blue.
The money invested in the cherry wood desk occupied by the receptionist
would've paid for that facelift Cassie had offered. The blue-gray guest couches
were satiny soft and comfortable.
Speaking into her silver, state-of-the-art headset,
the pencil-thin blonde at the desk announced Cassie.
I hadn't even transferred the latest issue of People
magazine to my lap when a door, magnificently blended into the cool blue wall
opened revealing a young man wearing a fitted, black Baroni suit. A Rolex
peeked from beneath the sleeve of a silk dress shirt and Gucci loafers covered
his feet. He lifted a manicured finger and beckoned us into the inner sanctum.
I would've been happy to stay and read the most
recent dirt on the latest it couple,
but Cassie dragged me behind her. My feet sank into the carpet. I swear. It was
like walking on that miracle foam bedding. I turned to see if I'd left my
footprints. Cassie cleared her throat and shook her head.
I shrugged my shoulders and stood awkwardly, waiting
for permission to seat myself.
The young man moved around the L-shaped desk made of
Koa wood and seated himself in a large steel-blue leather chair. He motioned us
to sit in the two upholstered chairs in front of his monstrosity of a desk as
he perched straight backed and rigid in the chair. Behind him an impressive ten
foot tall, thirty foot long array of silver gray curtains waved slightly with
the breeze from the rising warmth of the heater.
Once we were all settled and our roles firmly
established, he moved to the front of his desk to languidly lean on the edge.
Grasping Cassie's hand, he placed a delicate kiss on the top of it, his steely eyes gazing into her chocolate
brown ones.
"What can I…
do for you?"
Courtney Rene for Rogue's
Angels says: "If you are
looking for a good fast paced read this is the story for you."
Glenda
Nagel, editor for Getty Museum’s monthly magazine loves her home in the Juniper
Hills and her cats. When an ivory and emerald statuette of the cat goddess
Bastet makes its way to her home and sets her cats on edge, Glenda is panicked.
Who
knows about his and why has the darkly handsome, new Director of Egyptian
Antiquities become so determined to visit her high desert home? Doesn’t Egypt
have enough sand?
Widow Barbara Langley, and best friend, Rachel, journey
to Tampa, Florida. Barbara left broken-hearted years earlier and returns with
her newly surgicized body to mend her grieving spirit. Can she juggle an old
love who reappears and the younger man who desires her or will she choose to
return to the Northwest still single?
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