Midas Touch Read Free Page A

which to hide. She was nearing her sanctuary when she spied Janice cutting her off.
    Sandra whirled around and pushed her way back across the floor.
    Carol was still talking to the blonde, but Sandra no longer cared about protocol. The only thing important was escaping the crush of the room.
    “Let’s go,” she insisted, taking Carol’s arm.
    Carol’s mouth pulled into a grim line. “I’m not ready to go.”
    The noise level continued to grow around Sandra. The bass guitar’s pounding beat went straight to Sandra’s brain. She tried to block the guitar out. A smirk played across the blonde’s lips as she began to tap her nails against her glass. The sound grated in Sandra’s ears.
    “Carol, I really need to leave,” Sandra urged, looking desperately around the room. There was not enough air to breathe, and the room was closing in. The mirrors began playing tricks on her. She was reminded of the House of Mirrors she and her dad had gone through when she was nine. The grossly distorted images cast by the mirrors had rendered the young Sandra immobile. Her father had to carry her from the building.
    She was feeling the same overwhelming sense of confusion.
    Everywhere she looked, she found a reflection of herself staring back. Voices thundered in her ears. The air filled with swirling

    red dots. The pain in her chest grew. Her heartbeat accelerated until she was certain it would burst through her chest onto the blonde’s immaculate white gown. She had to escape. A blur of surprised, angry faces greeted her as she shoved her way to the door. She heard Lona calling her name, but nothing was going to stop her from getting out. She pushed through a crowd standing in the doorway and made her escape into the hall.
    Lona called her from the doorway and Sandra ran. She raced down the staircase, oblivious to the startled faces of the women coming up. She heard people calling her name, but it only served to make her run faster. As she approached the first landing, her ankle turned. The heel broke. A sharp stab of pain sliced through her ankle. She was falling. The sensation seemed to last an inordinately long time. She slammed against the wooden railing.
    Sandra clutched at the cold railing and regained her balance. She rotated her throbbing ankle until the pain began to subside. The only real damage seemed to be her shoe. The broken heel rested against the bottom step. Brand new shoes ruined because of her carelessness. Growling in frustration, she ripped the shoe from her foot and flung it against the wall.
    A young woman in a black tuxedo appeared on the stairs in front of her. “Ma’am, let me help you.” She reached for Sandra’s arm.Sandra pushed her aside and rushed down the stairs. The remaining heel made it impossible to run. She kicked it off and ran barefooted. As she burst off the stairs, she came face-to-face with the startled staff at the doorway. Someone reached out to her. She slapped his hand aside and rushed out the door, onto the brightly illuminated porch. A group of surprised valets sprang to life as she charged out.
    “The silver Jag,” she shouted to the nearest valet.
    “Which silver Jag? ” he queried, looking at her with both confusion and suspicion.
    Sandra started to yell at him when she heard Carol’s voice calling her name.
    The hell with it, she decided. Carol can drive herself home. Sandra

    turned away from the valets and sprinted down the walkway, across the street, and into the safety of darkness.
    Several minutes later, still moving in an awkward shuffling run, she crossed a road and staggered into a park. The streetlights grew farther apart as she ran deeper into the park. Darkness closed around her like a protective cloak. She should go back to the party and apologize for her rudeness, but she was unable to stop.Sandra moved deeper into the park, the night as dark as her mood. A sprinkler system installed along the sidewalk hissed and soaked the nearby ground. She continued to