she? Slumping down in the chair, I cradle my head in my hands. Can it get any worse?
Sure it can. I’ve got a staff whose clients have canceled because of me. My alleged guilt just cut off their livelihood. The best thing for them would be to distance themselves from me. What about Jenny? Will this turn her to a life of ho–dome? .
Wait a minute, where is Jenny?
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
I don’t remember seeing her when I came in, but that doesn’t mean she’s not here. Then again, maybe she left after all the excitement. She does have classes to attend. Jerked out of my pity party I glance at the room, then around the partition between reception and the cutting floor.
“Where’s Jenny?” I ask the huddled mass of my esteemed lawyer and colleagues.
They look like rabbits caught in the garden—if I don’t move, you can’t see me—before they finally look at me.
“She must have left after they took you,” says Nyssa.
“Did she say where she was going, or if she’d be back?”
“Nope, and I didn’t ask. Guess I was just too busy with customers leaving, the phone ringing off the hook, and a pissed–off vamp to notice.”
I nod, imagining the phone frenzy as clients spread the word of what they’d see through the digital airwaves. At the front desk, I bring up the contact list in the computer and dial Jenny’s home number. No answer. I try her cell, it goes straight to voicemail, could be turned off, or she’s in another call. Maybe she saw the number and decided not to answer.
None of this matters when a brick flies through the front window. Particles of glass in various sizes spread across the floor and furnishings, magazines scatter where the brick pushed them after bouncing off a table. Echoes of bitch, murderer, and other choice phrases follow. The sound of shattering glass and my involuntary scream brings the others to the front with some astounding speed.
Seeing the mess, the destruction of my property, my heart stops fluttering and the tears that threaten dry up. I now know what they mean by seeing red.
“Come back here and say that to my face, you assholes!”
I know it’s stupid and childish, but I can’t help myself. I’ve had enough of being accused and abused for one day. Thankfully, no one tells me how stupid and useless my little outburst was Matter of fact they pretty much pretend nothing happened.
Nyssa and Rey are hard at it with the broom and dustpan. Jacobs is on the phone with the police and the boys are outside scaring—no, it looks like talking to some of the bystanders. In their case, it could be one and the same.
I flop down in the chair and stare at the window, smashed, just like my life. I bite my lower lip to keep it from quivering. In a matter of hours, I’ve lost everything I worked so hard to achieve. The curious have gathered as a police car pulls up and Jacobs walks to the curb. I should be out there dealing with this, but my limbs are like jelly and my brain fuzzy with anger, self–pity and fear.
I can’t afford a lawyer, especially one like Jacobs and I’m not about to take Var Royd’s charity. How in Hel’s Realm am I going to afford to pay him? The pencil smudges on the pages of the appointment book have already proven I have no income. Sure, I have a little in savings, but I doubt it’s enough to keep him in limos and pricey whiskey. There’s probably enough to pay my bills for the next couple of months, but what about the others?
Rey and Dara make commission, but no appointments on the books means fifty percent of nothing. Nyssa gets a commission on her nail services, but I pay her an hourly rate for shampooing. So much for that raise I promised Jenny.
Things must not be going very well outside. I can’t see Jacob’s face, but his posture has stiffened and the boys look none too happy. The cop’s smug expression clinches it as he scribbles something in his notepad before getting back in his car. My esteemed
Sure it can. I’ve got a staff whose clients have canceled because of me. My alleged guilt just cut off their livelihood. The best thing for them would be to distance themselves from me. What about Jenny? Will this turn her to a life of ho–dome? .
Wait a minute, where is Jenny?
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
I don’t remember seeing her when I came in, but that doesn’t mean she’s not here. Then again, maybe she left after all the excitement. She does have classes to attend. Jerked out of my pity party I glance at the room, then around the partition between reception and the cutting floor.
“Where’s Jenny?” I ask the huddled mass of my esteemed lawyer and colleagues.
They look like rabbits caught in the garden—if I don’t move, you can’t see me—before they finally look at me.
“She must have left after they took you,” says Nyssa.
“Did she say where she was going, or if she’d be back?”
“Nope, and I didn’t ask. Guess I was just too busy with customers leaving, the phone ringing off the hook, and a pissed–off vamp to notice.”
I nod, imagining the phone frenzy as clients spread the word of what they’d see through the digital airwaves. At the front desk, I bring up the contact list in the computer and dial Jenny’s home number. No answer. I try her cell, it goes straight to voicemail, could be turned off, or she’s in another call. Maybe she saw the number and decided not to answer.
None of this matters when a brick flies through the front window. Particles of glass in various sizes spread across the floor and furnishings, magazines scatter where the brick pushed them after bouncing off a table. Echoes of bitch, murderer, and other choice phrases follow. The sound of shattering glass and my involuntary scream brings the others to the front with some astounding speed.
Seeing the mess, the destruction of my property, my heart stops fluttering and the tears that threaten dry up. I now know what they mean by seeing red.
“Come back here and say that to my face, you assholes!”
I know it’s stupid and childish, but I can’t help myself. I’ve had enough of being accused and abused for one day. Thankfully, no one tells me how stupid and useless my little outburst was Matter of fact they pretty much pretend nothing happened.
Nyssa and Rey are hard at it with the broom and dustpan. Jacobs is on the phone with the police and the boys are outside scaring—no, it looks like talking to some of the bystanders. In their case, it could be one and the same.
I flop down in the chair and stare at the window, smashed, just like my life. I bite my lower lip to keep it from quivering. In a matter of hours, I’ve lost everything I worked so hard to achieve. The curious have gathered as a police car pulls up and Jacobs walks to the curb. I should be out there dealing with this, but my limbs are like jelly and my brain fuzzy with anger, self–pity and fear.
I can’t afford a lawyer, especially one like Jacobs and I’m not about to take Var Royd’s charity. How in Hel’s Realm am I going to afford to pay him? The pencil smudges on the pages of the appointment book have already proven I have no income. Sure, I have a little in savings, but I doubt it’s enough to keep him in limos and pricey whiskey. There’s probably enough to pay my bills for the next couple of months, but what about the others?
Rey and Dara make commission, but no appointments on the books means fifty percent of nothing. Nyssa gets a commission on her nail services, but I pay her an hourly rate for shampooing. So much for that raise I promised Jenny.
Things must not be going very well outside. I can’t see Jacob’s face, but his posture has stiffened and the boys look none too happy. The cop’s smug expression clinches it as he scribbles something in his notepad before getting back in his car. My esteemed
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