Outside The Lines:: Third Person Narration Read Free

she said grimly, getting to her feet.   She noticed her hands were shaking.   “I’m going…skiing.”  
    “Oh, I love skiing,” his assistant enthused.
    “I don’t,” Juliette said in a voice of icy calm. “Do you have any tips?”
    Roxy was quiet a second. “First, don’t panic.”
    “Got it.”
    “The Tahoe area has some nice places. There’s a smaller town nearby, Destiny Falls.   They have a nice resort, smaller, but usually less crowded.   And lots of beginner slopes,” she added, showing great insight.
    Destiny Falls.   It had an ominous, fitting sort of ring to it.   And was less crowded.   And had bunny slopes.
    “It sounds perfect.   Thanks.”
    It was decided.   Go where Roxy went.
    Juliette updated her voice mail, sent her active clients an email stating she’d only be available by email and phone for a couple days, then swung her ‘Gone Fishing’ sign around and hurried out.  
    She’d have to hurry if she wanted to make it to the mountain by morning, and still had to dig out or buy the things she’d need to go plummeting down the side of a mountain. Ski jacket. Gloves. Other puffy things to ward off hypothermia. Vodka.  
    Oh, and one of those avalanche beeper-things. She’d definitely get one of those.
    A cold, unpleasant chill went through her at the thought of avalanches.  
    She hurried home, threw a change of clothes in her bag, watered her African violet, then drove east toward the mountains.  
    As she started to climb, it started to snow. It looked beautiful against the dark green hillsides, white and pure.  
    The beautiful snow kept up and slowed her down enough that she didn’t make it to the mountain until afternoon the next day. One could almost take it as a sign.
    Fortunately, Juliette didn’t believe in signs, so she kept going.   She believed in determination.   And avalanches.    
    She reached the Destiny Falls Resort early in the afternoon. Your Destiny Lies Here! the sign told her as she drove into the huge parking lot.   She found the sign presumptuous.   And unsettling.    
    The good news was, her cell reception was spotty, so she didn’t know when Johnny Danger left her a voice mail.   And then a text.   Several of them.   Several dozen.   All ominously calm and succinct.   Except the last one, which was in caps.    
    But she didn’t see them, because she was headed for the slopes, determined to have fun and get a life, or kill herself trying.  

Chapter Two

    “IS THIS SOMEONE’S fucking idea of fun?”  
    It was the third time Judge Billings had posed the question, and although the curse was a new addition this round, Johnny Danger was still ready to bang his head against the wall.  
    But there were clients in the room, and another attorney, so he forced himself to sit back in his chair at the head of the conference table and wait for Judge Donald ‘Buck’ Billings to reach the end of his red-faced, arm-flinging rant about last minute changes to valuations and year-end divorce filings and upstart accountants with odd names.  
    It was probably going to take awhile.    
    “Not sure anyone’s having fucking fun here, Don,” Johnny said calmly. “Want to sit down?”
    The judge slammed his palms on the conference table. “I want this figured out.”
    The soon-to-be-ex-Mrs. Billings sat quietly, hands folded on the table in front of her.   Johnny took a wild guess that this wasn’t the first time she’d run this race with the judge.   Her eyes peered into the near distance, unfocused and calm.
    Beside Mrs. B sat her friend-who-was-an-attorney-but-not- her -attorney, Farrah James, an art lawyer with very nice legs and an evil glare.   Farrah pinched the bridge of her nose between thumb and forefinger and stared daggers at Johnny. Make your client shut up.  
    I would if I could , he glared back.  
    As if this was his fault. The judge was his partner Dan’s client, as well as Dan’s old friend, and as a favor —that should