would mean Violet had spent money on her rental clothing for nothing and would have to spend more later in the week. Not to mention stew over Gavin Masonâs threats for another few days.
âToday would be much better,â she said firmly. âI mean, Iâm here now, andââ she threw a meaningful look over her shoulder at the waiting area ââand no one else is, and, as I said, it wonât take long.â
âMr. Mason has a very full schedule today,â the receptionist repeated crisply. âPerhaps if you can tell me what this is about, I can fit you inââ
âLater in the week,â Violet chorused with her, then added politely, âdoesnât work for me, Iâm afraid.â
âWell, perhaps if youâd made an appointmentâ¦â
Violet tried again. âMaybe if you told Mr. Mason Iâm here, he wouldââ
âMr. Mason has a very full schedule today.â
âHe mightââ
âPerhaps if you can tell me what this is about, I can fit you in later in the week.â
There was no way Violet was going to tell this woman she was here because Gavin Mason suspected her of being a call girl whoâd written about him in a memoir that was really a novel. But if the only way she was going to seethe man was later in the week, then sheâd have to settle for that.
âFine,â she said. âIâd like to make an appointment with Gavin Mason later in the week.â
The receptionist smiled, this time with great satisfaction, lifting her perfectly manicured hands to the keyboard before her. âAnd your meeting is in regard toâ¦?â
âPublic relations,â Violet said off the top of her head.
The receptionist narrowed her eyes. âCan you be more specific?â
âNo.â
She narrowed her eyes some more but didnât push the issue. Instead, she studied her computer screen for a moment and said, âCome back at four-fifty-five on Friday. He can see you for five minutes.â
Violet gaped at that, but didnât object. How could she? She was the one who had said it would only take a few minutes. A foot in the door, she reminded herself. That was all she needed.
âFine,â she said through gritted teeth.
âYour name?â
She started to reply with her real name, then realized Gavin Mason wouldnât recognize it. âRaven French.â
She might as well have yelled that the receptionistâs hair was on fire, so massive was the womanâs reaction. Her hands faltered on the keyboard, she bolted backward in her chair, and when she jerked up her head to look at Violet again, her eyes were wide with horror.
âRaven French,â she echoed. With no small amount of melodrama, too, Violet couldnât help thinking. Honestly, the woman might as well have been summoning some kind of B-movie hell spawn.
âYe-es,â Violet said cautiously.
Now it was the receptionist who gaped. But she didnâtsay anything, either. Her gaze never leaving Violetâs, she rose unsteadily from her chair and began to back away, bumping into the wall behind herself before flattening her palms against it and sidling to the right.
âStay right there,â she finally said, her voice going even more Norma Desmond than before. âI think maybe Mr. Mason has a moment right now.â
And with that, the woman disappeared behind the wall. Violet heard the clatter of something tumbling over, followed by a thump and the crash of breaking glass, and a not-so-quietly mutteredânor in any way professionalâoath. Then there was the quick rapping of knuckles on a door and an even less-quietâand even less professionalâscreech of âOh my God, Mr. Mason, that horrible woman is here to see you. Here. In your office. Can you imagine the nerve?â
The screeching was then replaced by another clatter and thump, only this time it sounded more like
Johnny Shaw, Matthew Funk, Gary Phillips, Christopher Blair, Cameron Ashley