told her, but I smiled politely. Now we were getting somewhere. "Naomi Delacroix."
One long, bloodred nail (authentic coloring, do you think?) ran down a calendar printout. "Well, well, well. What do you know? You're not listed."
My smile slipped a notch. "I assure you, I do have an appointment. Monday. Eleven o'clock."
"Oh, I believe you." Her sarcasm was as sharp and biting as fangs sinking into my vein. "A magic fairy must have sneaked inside and erased your name."
Maybe her lover the devil had done it, I thought, my smile fading even more. "Please check again."
"I don't think so. Just have a seat over there," she said, pointing to a stiff, uncomfortable-looking chair. "I'll call you if Mr. Powell can work you in. And by the way," she added with an evil smile, "you have a streak of dirt on your cheek."
"Thank you for telling me." Bitch. "I truly appreciate it." My own smile dissolved completely, but I didn't immediately clean my face. I waited until she turned, then scrubbed both cheeks with a vengeance.
Why hadn't the cab just run over me when it had had the chance? That would have saved me a lot of trouble. Would have been more merciful, too.
Legs stiff, I strode to my designated seat and waited like a naughty child for punishment. I would have liked to go home and indulge in an extra-large, thick-crusted pepperoni pizza dripping in grease with a side of gooey chocolate-chip cookies. And a box of Krispy Kremes. And a bag of Doritos. And a large Cherry-Vanilla Coke. What did I care about cholesterol and clogged arteries when my sanity hung in the balance?
Time ticked by and my butt began to throb. I couldn't get comfortable. The chair had no padding and, each time I shifted my weight, my ass bones ground into the faux leather.
Just as I was shifting yet again, a woman with shoulder-length silver hair and a regal air that shouted "pedigree," glided through the doorway, looking neither right nor left. An expensive, perfumed breeze brushed my face as she passed. When Elvira noticed the newcomer, she shot to her feet, her features tight with disgust. And just a hint of fear.
"No need to announce me," the older woman said in a tone that left no room for argument. "I can see myself in." With that, she sidestepped the freshly polished desk.
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Powell, but I can't let you do that." Elvira held out a hand, blocking the woman's path. "Give me a minute and I'll tell him you're here."
The two faced off. Nails were bared. Hair stood on end. If either woman's expression grew any hotter, the fire alarms were going to erupt. Right about then, I forgot about my ass pain, forgot about my sucky day. All I needed was a bowl of Orville Redenbacher's best and a scorecard. This scene had definite ass-kicking potential and, if anyone deserved to have their ass kicked, it was Elvira.
Go, old lady. Go!
"I do not need to be announced to see my own son," Mrs. Powell barked. She was scarier in person than she'd sounded on the phone. If I were Elvira, I would have backed away long before now. "Move out of my way this instant or you'll regret it."
Elvira licked her lips and crossed her arms. "I'll only take a second. You can sit in the waiting room-with the other lady who doesn't have an appointment." Without waiting for a reply, she picked up the phone. "Mr. Powell. Your mother-"
Mrs. Powell didn't wait. She shouldered her way past the desk and stalked down the hall.
Dark storm clouds settled over Elvira's features and she barked into the receiver. "It's too late. She's on her way." She slammed the phone down.
And just like that, the showdown was over, leaving me to wait.
And wait. And wait.
Chapter Two
When two primal jungle animals come face-to-face, they will fight until the weaker one admits defeat. A true Tigress meets every challenge with wit, cunning and blood instinct.
I spent the next hour perched in that stiff-backed chair from hell, reading old issues of City Girl. I really enjoyed the article titled Breasts: To Buy or Not To Buy. My own were small. I often called them "the Wonders." (I wondered if they were even there.) Obviously after reading the article, I was leaning toward buying.
I only wish there'd been an article on BOTOX. I had already passed the dreaded three-oh and was beginning to notice fine lines. I'm too young for lines