WB Read Free Page B

every picture she had a blinding smile showing off her impossibly white teeth.
    All the photos were professionally framed and matted in exotic hardwoods. Nothing shabby was ever allowed into her office. I had once seen her reduce one of the cleaning staff to tears because of a streak on her window.
    Lillian was at her desk and holding out a paper towards me with an accusatory frown, “I thought I told you to have this recorded on Friday?”
    She wasn't really asking a question, I could tell by the insincere sound of confusion in her voice that she was waiting to pounce, but I had to say something. I had a moment to peek at the paper she was holding and recognized the ornate writing at the top.
    “The Meyers' revised Quitclaim Deed?” I asked with my best curious, but not alarmed look.
    Cool and calm was the best way to handle Lillian. If you showed the slightest hint of fear she would grind you into a quivering mass good only for a year of quiet work in the basement assisting in long term file storage.
    She shook it at me with a snarl of frustration, uh oh, she was really coming unglued now,
    “Yes, yes, the Meyers' Deed! What else would I have you record? I'm not a fucking Real Estate slob who spends my day holding my clients hands while they close escrow on their shitty little dream homes!” She was really on a roll now, this could turn into a ten minute rant if I wasn't careful.
    I saw her drawing breath to further impress on me how much I had disappointed her, was useless and had better not do it again or I would be fired, fired, fired. I had heard it all before, last Wednesday actually, when I wasn't able to get her a dinner reservation at Saskia's.
    I interrupted quickly with a smile and said, “Lillian, Friday was a holiday. The Recorder's Office was closed, as were the courts and banks .... ” my voice trailed off at her look WARLOCK’S BRIDE JENNIFER RINEHART 11

    of boredom. Her shell pink fingernails drummed on the desktop as she slanted me a look that would be more appropriate for someone who has just found out that the small crunchy things on the top of the salad they just ate were deep fried cockroaches instead of the sugared pecans they ordered.
    This was a woman who had once asked me to call the airline and ask them to 'hold the flight' for her since she was going to be late. The recorder's office couldn't be closed when Lillian Van Leuwen had business there.
    “I'll get it couriered over this morning,” I said with a firm nod.
    Lillian tossed the papers at me with a growl, I caught them and turned quickly away grinding my teeth impotently.
    I was still muttering under my breath when Patty stopped by my desk. Patty worked in Human Resources, she was the first person I met at the firm when I interviewed for the job and she warned me that Lillian had had five assistants in the last fourteen months. Sometimes I wished I'd kept looking, but with just two years of office experience and no college degree, there weren't many jobs that paid as well as this one.
    “Can you get away early for lunch today?” She whispered low enough that no one
    nearby could hear us.
    Delilah, the secretary in the next cubicle, was a stickler for rules and regulations. Just last month she tattled to Mr. Small that I was wearing tennis shoes in the office when I forgot to trade out my sneakers for a pair of pumps after being ambushed by Lillian as I got into work. I ended up with four copies of the office dress code and several well meaning warnings from my co-workers.
    “Probably not. Why?” I asked with a smile at the outfit Patty was wearing. She had on a loud purple and green flowered dress and had, bizarrely, decided to wear one purple and one green shoe, dyed to match the tropical print.
    Patty had some strange fashion ideas, this was actually one of the more tame outfits I had seen her in. Sometimes she mixed animal prints; a leopard print blouse with a zebra striped vinyl skirt was her favorite 'man bait' outfit. In