tapped on the door, then tried the knob. Locked. She pulled out a key and opened the door.
“Jonathan?” she called, stepping in.
No sign of him.
Stephanie walked over to his desk, sat down in his chair, and opened his computer screen. “It looks like he’s in a meeting right now,” she said, then tapped a couple more keys and stood up. I peeked in and saw a highly polished cherrywood desk, black leather executive chair, and matching leather couch, creating a masculine, powerful feeling. On his desk was a three-foot statue I instantly recognized as the Creature from the Black Lagoon —one of my all-time favorite horror movies. On the wall were posters of other 3-D films— Thirteen Ghosts , House of Wax , Jaws 3-D —movies I watched with those red-and-blue-lens glasses. She returned to the door, closed it, and made sure it was locked. The scent of mint and cologne swept out on a waft of air.
He’d been here recently.
“Hey, maybe I can answer some of your questions. We’ve talked a lot about the party. Come over to my office and we can chat until Jonathan’s free.”
Stephanie’s office, adjacent to Jonathan’s, was half the size of her boss’s, and not so richly appointed, but still impressive. Her desk was covered with papers—all neatly stacked. Instead of a couch for guests, there were two chairs, one behind her desk, and one for a visitor. I sat down in the comfy padded chair and looked around while she sat and checked her messages. There were no family pictures in view, no collections of ceramic cats or Smurfs, only a large framed canvas that looked like a chart of the skies, along with signs of the zodiac.
“This is nice,” I said, lacking anything more complimentary to say about her office.
“I like simplicity. I came up through the ranks, you know, so I still relate to the other employees as well as the boss. Beside, Jonathan likes us to keep our offices neat. At least, the ones that visitors see. R and D is a rat’s nest. I don’t see how they can work under such messy conditions.”
I could relate more to R&D than the administrative offices. I suppose my Killer Parties office could be called a rat’s nest, but to me it was organized chaos, and I knew where everything was.
“Beautiful artwork,” I said, indicating the heavenly circle on the wall.
“That’s my birth chart,” she said. Her hand went to the crystal that dangled from her neck. “I had it done a few years ago. It looked like a work of art to me so I had it framed and hung on the wall.”
She saw me eying her necklace. “It’s a healing crystal. I wear it to enhance creativity and for protection.”
“It’s stunning,” I said.
Stephanie sat down and folded her hands on her desk. Her red nails were perfect and the only bright color in her gray ensemble. She wore no rings on her left hand, but sported an elegant pearl necklace around her neck and matching pearl earrings. She seemed relaxed and confident, while I felt stiff and a little out of place.
“So,” she began, “have you recovered from that little incident with Zach?”
“Excuse me?” I said, shaking my head.
“Zachary Samuels. Jonathan said it was Zach who tried to run him down in the parking lot.”
Zach Samuels? Jonathan hadn’t mentioned a name to me. If he knew who had hit his car, why hadn’t he told the security guard—or contacted the police?
“Is he a former employee?” I asked. I wanted to know more about this guy who’d nearly killed me—even if he hadn’t meant to.
“Yes. He’s been harassing Jonathan ever since he was let go. Keeps showing up unannounced at places where Jonathan happens to be—restaurants, clubs, even his home.”
“Why was he fired?”
“He started demanding more money for the work he was doing here. Everyone gets a salary, plus a bonus at the completion of a project, not to mention all the perks that go along with working here. But Zach wanted more.” She sighed and shook her head at the
“Jonathan?” she called, stepping in.
No sign of him.
Stephanie walked over to his desk, sat down in his chair, and opened his computer screen. “It looks like he’s in a meeting right now,” she said, then tapped a couple more keys and stood up. I peeked in and saw a highly polished cherrywood desk, black leather executive chair, and matching leather couch, creating a masculine, powerful feeling. On his desk was a three-foot statue I instantly recognized as the Creature from the Black Lagoon —one of my all-time favorite horror movies. On the wall were posters of other 3-D films— Thirteen Ghosts , House of Wax , Jaws 3-D —movies I watched with those red-and-blue-lens glasses. She returned to the door, closed it, and made sure it was locked. The scent of mint and cologne swept out on a waft of air.
He’d been here recently.
“Hey, maybe I can answer some of your questions. We’ve talked a lot about the party. Come over to my office and we can chat until Jonathan’s free.”
Stephanie’s office, adjacent to Jonathan’s, was half the size of her boss’s, and not so richly appointed, but still impressive. Her desk was covered with papers—all neatly stacked. Instead of a couch for guests, there were two chairs, one behind her desk, and one for a visitor. I sat down in the comfy padded chair and looked around while she sat and checked her messages. There were no family pictures in view, no collections of ceramic cats or Smurfs, only a large framed canvas that looked like a chart of the skies, along with signs of the zodiac.
“This is nice,” I said, lacking anything more complimentary to say about her office.
“I like simplicity. I came up through the ranks, you know, so I still relate to the other employees as well as the boss. Beside, Jonathan likes us to keep our offices neat. At least, the ones that visitors see. R and D is a rat’s nest. I don’t see how they can work under such messy conditions.”
I could relate more to R&D than the administrative offices. I suppose my Killer Parties office could be called a rat’s nest, but to me it was organized chaos, and I knew where everything was.
“Beautiful artwork,” I said, indicating the heavenly circle on the wall.
“That’s my birth chart,” she said. Her hand went to the crystal that dangled from her neck. “I had it done a few years ago. It looked like a work of art to me so I had it framed and hung on the wall.”
She saw me eying her necklace. “It’s a healing crystal. I wear it to enhance creativity and for protection.”
“It’s stunning,” I said.
Stephanie sat down and folded her hands on her desk. Her red nails were perfect and the only bright color in her gray ensemble. She wore no rings on her left hand, but sported an elegant pearl necklace around her neck and matching pearl earrings. She seemed relaxed and confident, while I felt stiff and a little out of place.
“So,” she began, “have you recovered from that little incident with Zach?”
“Excuse me?” I said, shaking my head.
“Zachary Samuels. Jonathan said it was Zach who tried to run him down in the parking lot.”
Zach Samuels? Jonathan hadn’t mentioned a name to me. If he knew who had hit his car, why hadn’t he told the security guard—or contacted the police?
“Is he a former employee?” I asked. I wanted to know more about this guy who’d nearly killed me—even if he hadn’t meant to.
“Yes. He’s been harassing Jonathan ever since he was let go. Keeps showing up unannounced at places where Jonathan happens to be—restaurants, clubs, even his home.”
“Why was he fired?”
“He started demanding more money for the work he was doing here. Everyone gets a salary, plus a bonus at the completion of a project, not to mention all the perks that go along with working here. But Zach wanted more.” She sighed and shook her head at the
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