Suede to Rest by Diane Vallere

Author:Diane Vallere
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Group US
Published: 2014-09-25T16:00:00+00:00

Sixteen

I returned to the closet and pushed the evening clothes out of the way. I found a black sheath dress and jacket in a plastic garment bag. It was clearly from another era, but it would have to do.

I changed out of my tunic and leggings and into the outfit. The jacket had a jeweled collar and laid perfectly over the neckline of the dress. Both garments were the same length. I left the buttons, round shiny black balls, unbuttoned down the front. I felt along the top shelf of the closet for a pair of shoes and knocked over a box of memorabilia. I scooped up the mess and set it on the bed. Aunt Millie’s feet were bigger than mine, but I lined the bottoms of a pair of black crocodile pumps with a piece of foam from the batting section of the store, then secured each foot with black ribbon tied over the instep. The heels were low enough that I felt stable.

I left the store and followed the directions to McMichael Development and Investments. I missed the turn onto the highway and ended up turning around in the parking lot of Gnarly Waves, a water park that was closed for the winter. Instead of doubling back, I followed the winding roads alongside of the reservoir until I saw Parkhurst Airfield. My GPS told me McMichael Development and Investments was across the street.

I’d expected a multifloor office building with shiny chrome elevator doors and judgmental doormen. What I found instead was a two-story office building, beige siding with dark brown trim. Jacaranda trees lined the property, spilling bright purple blossoms over the parking lot and the yard. The parking lot sat off to the side, only a handful of cars occupying the numerous spaces. I parked by the doors and went inside.

“May I help you?” asked the uniformed man behind the marble counter.

“I’m here to see Vic McMichael.”

“Sign in here.” He pushed a leather guest book toward me. I considered writing a fake name, but didn’t see the point. I wasn’t trying to hide my identity. I was trying to head off a hostile takeover.

“Down the hall, second office on the left.”

I followed the directions and let myself into the room. A fortysomething receptionist sat behind a modest desk. A small silver bud vase sat next to her phone and an array of photos sat to the other side by the Tiffany lamp. I wondered if she’d been called in to work on a Sunday because of Carson’s appointment and considered apologizing.

“Mr. McMichael is expecting you. Go right in.” She gestured toward a wooden door with Vic McMichael embossed on a brass nameplate on the outside. I grabbed the knob and turned, boosting my confidence with one last deep breath before entering.

Vic McMichael sat behind a desk that made his secretary’s look like the Fisher-Price model. Every white hair on his head was in place. Small rimless glasses sat on his face, barely noticeable except for the steel arms that ran from the lenses to his ears.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.