You Knew Me When by Emily Liebert Page B

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    Panting, Laney burst through the front door of Newman, Brink & Oliver. Tina had given her a hard time about leaving Oasis, even though Laney had told her a week ago about the meeting and had sworn she’d be back within the hour. How long could it take to read a will? Still, Tina was Tina, and Laney knew she was afraid of running the salon without her. On her way out, she’d handed Tina a lined pad and red pen and said, “Write everything down on this. Appointments, phone messages, and any other issues or problems. I’ll deal with it all when I get back.” Tina had nodded like an obedient child. And Laney had reminded herself to ask about that raise she so deserved. Unless, of course, she was about to become a millionaire. It had crossed her mind. The delicious satisfaction of quitting her job at a time when Tina was most vulnerable—she’d just fired Annie, the new receptionist, along with two manicurists and three hairstylists.
    â€œI’m here to see Richard Newman.” Laney let her purse fall to the ground and pulled her hair off her neck. Despite the freezing and inclement weather, she was still perspiring. She’d had to sprint four blocks from the Donna Karan outlet parking lot, the only spot she could find in the vicinity. She’d driven by the law office twice, to discover that they had room for only seven cars, most likely the three lawyers, two secretaries, one receptionist, and one paralegal who worked there.
    â€œIn regard to?” The receptionist didn’t bother looking up from her paperwork.
    â€œLuella Hancock’s will. I have a two o’clock appointment.” Laney’s erratic breathing tapered as she removed her damp winter coat. The rain hadn’t let up all day, which just made everything more difficult.
    â€œHe’s on a call. Take a seat. I’ll let you know when he’s ready to see you.”
    â€œSure, thank you.” Laney was somewhat relieved to have a moment to pull herself together, even though Tina would probably kill her if she was gone for more than fifty-nine minutes and fifty-nine seconds. She hung her coat on a hook by the door and sat down in the first empty chair. There was only one other woman waiting, seated on the other side of the small room. Laney hadn’t noticed her at first, but she did now. It was impossible not to. The woman was impeccably turned out in crisp black slacks, a creamy cashmere sweater that hugged her slender frame, and heels so high they were practically stilts. Laney couldn’t make out the woman’s face, since it was buried in her iPhone, on which she was typing furiously, but she did notice her diamond studs—more like diamond rocks, really. Her black hair was fashioned into a stylish shoulder-length bob, and it sparkled much like her earrings. This woman couldn’t be from Manchester. No one dressed like that in Manchester. Laney surveyed her own outfit and frowned. She’d felt a little glamorous all day in her favorite silk shirt, since she usually wore a uniform of old black pants and a plain white cotton button-down to work, but now she felt more like the dumpy stepsister.
    She stared at the woman for a few minutes, wondering what it would take to look like her. She was dying to see her face and, even though she dreaded Tina’s temper tantrums, she kind of hoped the woman would get called in first.
    â€œLadies, Mr. Newman will see you now,” the receptionist yelped from behind her desk, without moving an inch. Laney stood up, as did the woman, who—for the first time—lifted her head. Laney looked directly at her, pausing for a moment to place the familiar face, and then it hit her, nearly knocking her back into her seat.
    â€œKitty?” Laney’s heart punched at her chest and she felt slightly dizzy.
    â€œLaney.” Kitty smiled coolly, submitting to a perfunctory