North Star by Angeline M. Bishop Page A

her at random times. She was sure the caller was harmless, but she didn’t need the headache.
    “Good. I’ve packed the girls’ suitcases with enough clothes for a few weeks. What time will you be leaving?”
    “In another hour or so, once there’s a break in the rain. Hey, what time do you want them back?”
    “Make it six ‘o clock in the evening, if that’s not a problem. That way I’ll have time to look for some shoes to match the dress Yvette gave me for the fundraiser.”
    “Six is great! I’ll probably have a hard time pulling the girls away the beach house in the afternoon anyway.” Diane hugged her cousin. “I hope you have a nice date.”
    “Meeting!” Caresse corrected as she walked over to kiss and hug her daughters tightly. The last thing she wanted was Nyla getting overly concerned with her mother dating. The divorce had been especially hard on her, and she saw it as her duty to protect her mother from men that would make her mother sad. “Have a great time, girls, and leave me some cookies!”
    She grabbed her purse, the Mason Center discussion materials, and quickly headed toward the garage door.
    When Caresse arrived at the Psyche headquarters in downtown Toms River, an almost bare parking lot greeted her. You can sure tell they love Fridays , she thought as she pulled into one of the empty visitors’ parking spaces. She quickly made her way through the rain with the help of an oversized black umbrella. Once inside, she headed toward the security desk.
    “Can I help you, Miss?” The officer grinned as he took in her appearance from head to toe. For a brief moment, his face reminded her of a cartoon wolf licking his lips and rubbing his hands in greedy appreciation. Maybe the suit was a little too much.
    “I’m looking for Mr. Sheridan’s office,” she said as she refastened her umbrella and placed it next to her like a regal cane.
    “Do you have an appointment, pretty lady?”
    “Yes, I do.”
    He searched a log of names. “You are?”
    “Ms. Aldana.”
    “Ms.?” He bent his head and studied Caresse’s annoyed face. “ID, please.”
    Caresse produced her driver’s license to confirm her identity and was instructed take the elevator to the twentieth floor. The building was more impressive inside than she had imagined. It made her feel like she’d stepped into a New York high-rise.
    When the elevator stopped at the executive suites, deep earth tones accented with gold greeted her. A picture of an oversized anniversary issue of Psyche with actors Terrence Howard, DB Woodside, and Morris Chestnut on the cover was displayed over the receptionist area to welcome visitors. Now that’s some image to work under, she thought, knowing Ms. Rogers would never allow good-looking men to decorate on the office walls. As she approached Graham’s office, she noticed the Psyche logo tastefully displayed on the glass doors that separated the reception area from Graham’s. One wall near the conference room featured the editors of the major divisions of the magazine. Graham’s picture was at the top as owner and editor-in-chief.
    Caresse stopped to study Graham’s image. He said he was an editor–some understatement, she thought as she admired the way the photographer had captured his personality perfectly.
    When she entered Graham’s office area, he was facing away from his open door, staring at his computer. At closer inspection, she realized he also had a telephone to his ear. His body was rigid as he glared at his computer screen. She couldn’t tell if he was annoyed by what he was viewing or what he was hearing, but he was definitely upset.
    She started to move toward the receptionist’s area so he could finish his call in private, but he took note of her and motioned her forward with the wave of his hand.
    Graham was almost ready to yell into the phone with all the fury of a hurricane when Caresse had appeared in his office doorway. The moment his eyes met hers, he became entranced