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Evening Bags and Executions(3)

By:Dorothy Howell


Through the open door I spotted a tiny woman with supershort, pale blond hair rocking a Michael Kors dress and accessories sitting behind the desk. I rapped on the door, and she looked up. From the crinkles around her eyes, I figured forty was in her rearview mirror.

“I’m Haley Randolph,” I said.

Edie’s eyes widened and she threw herself back in her chair.

“You’re here. You actually came,” she said, and scrambled to her feet. She rushed around the desk. “Come in, Haley. Please sit down. I can’t tell you how glad I am that you’re here.”

Wow, I hadn’t expected such a warm welcome. This job was starting out great.

Edie ushered me into the chair in front of her desk. “Can I get you anything? How about some coffee? Would you prefer tea?”

“Coffee would be nice,” I said.

Edie leaned out the door and screamed, “Kayla!”

She gave me a wide smile and said, “This won’t take a minute. Just make yourself comfortable.”

“What the hell?” A young, dark-haired woman in a YSL suit, whom I presumed was Kayla, walked through the door.

“This is Haley, our new assistant planner,” Edie said, presenting me as if I were a Marchesa gown only just arrived from a Milan runway show.

Kayla looked at me with an I-can’t-believe-it expression, and said, “You’re kidding.”

“Would you get Haley a coffee, please?” Edie asked, forcing a smile.

“Does she know about—”

“Just get it. Now!”

Kayla hurried away, and Edie turned back to me with her plastered-on smile firmly in place once more.

“Let’s get you settled in, shall we?” she said, and took a seat behind her desk. She pulled a large packet from her drawer and handed it to me. I knew from my extensive experience that this was my new-hire info.

“We’re starting you out as an assistant planner. I realize that when we spoke on the phone I mentioned the senior planner position,” Edie said.

The senior planner position had belonged to the girl who’d been murdered a few months back—long story. I guess I should have been irked that Edie was offering me a lower position now, but I was really okay with not taking a dead girl’s job.

Call me crazy.

“I see you moving up to senior planner in no time,” Edie said. Her smile widened. “No time at all, really. And that, of course, means a significant increase in your salary, plus a company car—your choice of color—profit sharing, an assistant planner of your own, a quarterly bonus, a membership in a health club, a weekly spa visit, and a clothing allowance.”

Wow, this was a fantastic job, all right. I’d have to give Marcie a big thank-you for insisting I apply here.

Kayla dashed into the office, sans coffee.

“Haley needs to come to the breakroom with me,” she told Edie.

“I haven’t finished going over her benefits,” she replied.

Kayla’s eyes widened and she leaned forward.

“Immediately, Edie. Haley needs to come with me immediately .”

“Oh!” Edie popped out of her chair. “Run along with Kayla, if you will, Haley. I’ll get back with you on benefits later today.”

She shooed me out of her office, and I walked down the corridor with Kayla. We turned a corner and I heard a door slam behind us, followed by a woman screaming at the top of her voice.

“Who’s that?” I asked.

Kayla rolled her eyes. “Vanessa Lord. She’s our top event planner. Brings in all the high-dollar clients. L.A. Affairs would be circling the drain if it weren’t for her—and she knows it. The rest of us just have to put up with her.”

“She doesn’t sound very happy,” I said.

“Vanessa is never happy,” Kayla said. “Nothing suits her. Ever.”

“I feel sorry for the assistant planner who has to work under her,” I said.

“Um, well, actually,” Kayla said, “you’re her new assistant.”

Oh, crap.





CHAPTER 2


“Okay, look, I realize this isn’t your fault, technically,”

Vanessa said. “But you need to resign. Today.”

I sat across the desk from Vanessa in her immaculate office that overlooked Sepulveda Boulevard. I figured she was only a few years older than me. She had on an exquisitely styled, black Armani suit. Her dark hair was in a sophisticated updo. Her makeup and nails were perfect.

I couldn’t find a single thing wrong with her appearance, which was really irritating.

We’d met two minutes ago when Edie—fresh from her screaming match with Vanessa—had introduced us, then left to have her Zoloft prescription refilled, no doubt.