Blindfolded Innocence Read Online Free PDF Page B

bottle glasses, but I had long, plump lashes behind them and my lips had some color now.   The dark shadows were still present, but minimized by the concealer.

     
    I grabbed the red file folder, opened the door and scolded my nervous butterflies.   Then I straightened my shoulders, pulled open the heavy bathroom door and headed for the East Wing.

     

 

     

     

     
    CHAPTER 9

     

     
    Rule 1: She is kept blindfolded for the first meeting.   If the blindfold is to be taken off, it must be done by her alone.

     

     

     
    The heavy East Wing double doors opened to a sea of noise and activity.   People were everywhere, and everyone seemed to be very important, very busy, or very emotional.   I stopped just inside the doors and tried to get my bearings.  

     
    The room was large, dominated by three large curved secretarial desks that created a semi circle at the back of the room.   To get to the secretaries, there was a wide, wood path that was flanked on either side by leather seating clusters.   Both seating arrangements were full, one seemed to hold a meeting in progress, the other had two leggy blonds and an older man in a suit, apparently waiting.   To the right was a large, glass conference room, a meeting in progress.   I could hear muted tones of what sounded like an argument coming from that side.   On the left were offices, probably holding paralegals and Todd.   Behind the secretaries was a large office with floor to ceiling windows, from which I could see the downtown skyline.   I could also see a man, standing at his desk, a phone to his ear.   From the size and the view of the office, I assumed that was De Luca's office.   Okay, Julia.   Get in, Get out, and Stop Gawking.

     
    I moved quickly and (I hoped) confidentially toward the secretary cluster.   Their three desks were elevated, and I felt like a defendant approaching the judge.   The secretaries all seemed cut from the same cloth.   Old, dignified, and spicy, headmistress-style seemed to be De Luca's preference.   Or perhaps HR's preference for De Luca.   The center headmistress worn a red suit and had a brass nameplate on her desk that indicated her name was Carol Featherston.

     
    She looked up as I approached, and her sharp gaze immediately locked on the red folder in my now sweaty clutches.   She skipped a greeting and held out her hand.   I passed the file meekly over.   Her phone started to ring.   She ignored the phone and flipped quickly through the file, then snapped it shut and looked back at me.

     
    "Where did you get this?"

     
    "I'm Julia Campbell, from Broward's office.   I -

     
    "Where did you get this?"   Her piercing gaze and shrill voice told me to get to the point.

     
    "It was on my desk, ma'am."

     
    "Alright, I'll handle it.   Thank you."   The snappy response seemed to indicate that I was done.   I couldn't imagine this women planning stripper-filled parties.   Todd must have been exaggerating.   I smiled politely at the woman and turned to leave.   My exit was interrupted by a large rapping, knuckles on glass.   I paused, mid-turn and glanced back at Ms. Featherston.   She held up a finger and glanced over her shoulder.   I followed her gaze.

     
    A bear of a man stood at the glass window of the large back office.   He had the build of an ex-athlete, impossibly broad shoulders and muscular arms that his $1000 dress shirt couldn't hide.   He had olive skin and a thick head of hair.   Strong handsome features, he would have been too good-looking if it weren't for the fierceness of his features.   He looked like the kind of man who chased confrontation down and then ate it for breakfast.   Phone to his ear, his knuckles were still rapping the glass when my eyes met his.   He pointed one finger at me and then motioned for me to come, turning his back and pacing away without waiting for a response.   Uh-oh.

     
    I must have had panic on my face when Ms. Featherston turned back