Death by Killer Mop Doll (An Anastasia Pollack Crafting Mystery) Read Online Free PDF Page A

Conway.
    Naomi shrugged. “They didn’t outline the remainder of the programming to me, and frankly, I wasn’t interested. My only concern is the magazine’s involvement.”
    We all nodded in agreement as Naomi continued. “Anyway, each of your segments will relate to the makeover of a lucky viewer participant. The magazine, as well as each of its editors, will gain tremendous national exposure. Or so they believe.”
    “Silly me,” I said, slapping my forehead. “I had no idea the utility companies were now accepting exposure credits in lieu of checks for payment. How many minutes of air time equals a dollar’s worth of electricity or gas? One-for-one like mileage awards? There aren’t any blackout periods, are there?”
    Naomi winced. “The exposure could lead to product endorsements or other offers.”
    “Don’t try to put a positive spin on this,” said Cloris. “Let’s face it. The only winner here is Trimedia. Think of the increased advertising revenues. Corporate stuffs their pockets on our slave sweat.”
    “So, we won’t be compensated at all for these weekly appearances?” asked Tessa.
    “They expect you to honor your contracts. Their attitude is that they’re only asking for an additional fifteen minutes of your time per week. And due to the new format, the show will now be taped, so none of you will have to leave home before dawn to arrive at the studio on time.”
    “Their benevolence knows no bounds,” Jeanie grumbled.
    “Wait a minute,” I said. “Fifteen minutes? What about the additional hours it takes to prepare that fifteen-minute presentation? I don’t pull craft projects out of a magician’s butt, you know. And each completed project I show in the magazine requires several step-by-step models.”
    “Same here,” said Cloris. “When I bake a cake, I actually bake half a dozen.”
    “And what about the commute in and out of Manhattan?” asked Tessa. “In case you’ve forgotten, we’re stuck in the middle of a New Jersey cornfield.”
    “Add to that the time we’ll have to spend in make-up prior to taping and you’ve killed an entire day,” said Nicole Emmerling, our beauty editor. She panned the room, a scowl plastered across her face, as she waited for the rest of us to chime in our agreement.
    “Fifteen minutes, my ass,” grumbled Sheila.
    “Unless they want us to appear au natural ,” suggested Jeanie.
    Cloris laughed. “Are you kidding? We’d frighten the hell out of women waking up all over America.”
    “Which might not be such a bad idea,” I said.
    “What?” Nicole’s perfectly shadowed, lined, and mascara-ed eyes widened with horror. “I’m not appearing on television without make-up. Are you crazy?”
    “Like a fox,” I said. “Can you think of a quicker way to turn off the public? No viewers, no show.”
    “I didn’t hear that,” said Naomi. “However, before you plan a mutiny, bear in mind that Trimedia keeps an office full of barracuda attorneys on retainer. Don’t do anything that might set you up for a lawsuit.”
    “So you’re saying we have no choice?” Janice asked.
    Naomi raised her hands in defeat. “I did my best. They refuse to budge. The only concession I could wheedle out of them was a verbal hint of a possible bonus if the show is successful.”
    “Any chance of getting that in writing?” asked Cloris.
    “From those guys?” I tossed her a smirk. “When armadillos fly.”
    “What if we refuse to participate?” asked Tessa.
    “People who don’t meet their contractual obligations get fired,” said Naomi. “If you want to keep your job, you have no choice.”
    Tessa crossed her arms over her silk-clad, silicone-enhanced cleavage. “Well, I’m not going to stand for this. I’ll hire my own attorneys to fight them. No one takes advantage of me and gets away with it.” She stormed out of the conference room, her Jimmy Choo heels clicking a quick staccato beat on the terrazzo floor.
    Tessa wasn’t one of my