dressed for work.
I selected a funky Helen Berman dress I’d picked up at the thrift store for Bethesda-by-the-Sea. One of the many pluses of living in Palm Beach proper was easy access to a thrift store where I could find everything from vintage Versace to BCBG shoes, all barely to gently worn by well-heeled islanders. Twice a year, they even had blowout sales. I already had the dates circled in red on my calendar.
Because I’m only five-four, I tend to avoid empire waists with bow accents, but this dress, with its black bodice and white skirt, had been a great bargain and way too cute to pass up. Plus, it gave me an excuse to wear my black Jimmy Choo patent-leather cuff sandals with the very, very high heels. I’d gotten them at half price because of an imperfection in the stitching on the inside right cuff, but unless someone got down on her hands and knees for inspection, my secret was safe.
The drive to Dane-Lieberman was much quicker at o’-dark-thirty, leaving me time to swing through the Starbucks for a venti frappe. Even though I’d already downed a pot of coffee, my caffeine levels were still way too low for maximum concentration.
I parked my shiny Mercedes next to Ellen’s utilitarian Volvo, grabbed my purse, and fished for the office keys as I walked toward the etched-glass doors with the names of the partners accented in gold.
Maudlin Margaret’s desk was deserted, and I couldn’t resist leaving a faux message on her pink pad. It read:
“Miss Egghardt arriving at eight, please send her up as soon as possible.”
I wrote the date and time just to jerk her chain, then took the elevators to the second floor. It was just shy of my meeting time, so I turned on my computer and my personal coffeemaker, shoved my purse into the bottom drawer of my desk, then spun in my seat to place my briefcase—which held my study guide for tomorrow night’s test—inside one of three vertical filing cabinets adorning my office.
I was still happy with my new digs. And even happier that I’d gotten them by solving not one but two murders. Well, solving may be a bit of a stretch, but I had been an integral part of unearthing the culprits, even if I did have some marginal help from Liam. Okay, so maybe marginal was a bit of a stretch, but it didn’t matter. Vain Dane had given me the private office with a view of City Place to lure me back to working at the firm. He’d fired me twice in six months, and I wasn’t about to return without some major perks.
With the Egghardt file and ever-ready pad and pen in hand, I took the elevator to the fourth-floor executive suite. Ellen’s office was to the left of the elevator, off the circular lobby. I walked with conviction and the knowledge that five-and-a-half-inch heels were not the best walking shoes ever invented. But as my grandmother often said, “You have to suffer to be lovely.”
I had just passed the conference room when Ellen called my name. Pivoting, I found her seated at the head of the long table, several boundary maps rolled out in front of her, the corners anchored by staplers.
She checked her watch. “Very good.”
Very early . “Good morning,” I said, refusing to allow her sarcastic tone to get under my skin. I placed my coffee and pad on the table at the spot to her left.
“Are those your notes and the estate file?” she asked as she glanced up from the map.
No, it’s my grocery list. “Yes, I knew you wanted to review it before Lenora gets here. Oh, and I hear congratulations are in order.”
Ellen peered up through her mascara-free lashes. “Thanks.”
Thanks? You’d think she’d be a tad more excited. It wasn’t like a daily thing to be named one of Florida’s “Top 100 Lawyers” in the Sunday paper.
Dismissing the topic as if my comments were unimportant, Ellen read most of the pages in my file while I was left with nothing to do. Bored after seven minutes, I went to the coffeepot and refilled both our mugs. It wasn’t until I
I selected a funky Helen Berman dress I’d picked up at the thrift store for Bethesda-by-the-Sea. One of the many pluses of living in Palm Beach proper was easy access to a thrift store where I could find everything from vintage Versace to BCBG shoes, all barely to gently worn by well-heeled islanders. Twice a year, they even had blowout sales. I already had the dates circled in red on my calendar.
Because I’m only five-four, I tend to avoid empire waists with bow accents, but this dress, with its black bodice and white skirt, had been a great bargain and way too cute to pass up. Plus, it gave me an excuse to wear my black Jimmy Choo patent-leather cuff sandals with the very, very high heels. I’d gotten them at half price because of an imperfection in the stitching on the inside right cuff, but unless someone got down on her hands and knees for inspection, my secret was safe.
The drive to Dane-Lieberman was much quicker at o’-dark-thirty, leaving me time to swing through the Starbucks for a venti frappe. Even though I’d already downed a pot of coffee, my caffeine levels were still way too low for maximum concentration.
I parked my shiny Mercedes next to Ellen’s utilitarian Volvo, grabbed my purse, and fished for the office keys as I walked toward the etched-glass doors with the names of the partners accented in gold.
Maudlin Margaret’s desk was deserted, and I couldn’t resist leaving a faux message on her pink pad. It read:
“Miss Egghardt arriving at eight, please send her up as soon as possible.”
I wrote the date and time just to jerk her chain, then took the elevators to the second floor. It was just shy of my meeting time, so I turned on my computer and my personal coffeemaker, shoved my purse into the bottom drawer of my desk, then spun in my seat to place my briefcase—which held my study guide for tomorrow night’s test—inside one of three vertical filing cabinets adorning my office.
I was still happy with my new digs. And even happier that I’d gotten them by solving not one but two murders. Well, solving may be a bit of a stretch, but I had been an integral part of unearthing the culprits, even if I did have some marginal help from Liam. Okay, so maybe marginal was a bit of a stretch, but it didn’t matter. Vain Dane had given me the private office with a view of City Place to lure me back to working at the firm. He’d fired me twice in six months, and I wasn’t about to return without some major perks.
With the Egghardt file and ever-ready pad and pen in hand, I took the elevator to the fourth-floor executive suite. Ellen’s office was to the left of the elevator, off the circular lobby. I walked with conviction and the knowledge that five-and-a-half-inch heels were not the best walking shoes ever invented. But as my grandmother often said, “You have to suffer to be lovely.”
I had just passed the conference room when Ellen called my name. Pivoting, I found her seated at the head of the long table, several boundary maps rolled out in front of her, the corners anchored by staplers.
She checked her watch. “Very good.”
Very early . “Good morning,” I said, refusing to allow her sarcastic tone to get under my skin. I placed my coffee and pad on the table at the spot to her left.
“Are those your notes and the estate file?” she asked as she glanced up from the map.
No, it’s my grocery list. “Yes, I knew you wanted to review it before Lenora gets here. Oh, and I hear congratulations are in order.”
Ellen peered up through her mascara-free lashes. “Thanks.”
Thanks? You’d think she’d be a tad more excited. It wasn’t like a daily thing to be named one of Florida’s “Top 100 Lawyers” in the Sunday paper.
Dismissing the topic as if my comments were unimportant, Ellen read most of the pages in my file while I was left with nothing to do. Bored after seven minutes, I went to the coffeepot and refilled both our mugs. It wasn’t until I
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