love all things English, I see.”
“How’s the job?” Sarah asked.
“It’s great. Just came from Miami where I signed a new author.” Sam was a literary agent with a large agency in New York. “We don’t usually go to our authors, but she’s a quadriplegic. Does all of her typing holding a pencil in her mouth. Amazing perseverance. And she’s going to be big, you wait and see. The next J.K. Rowling.”
Sam circled back to the couch and, plopping down again, spun to face Sarah. “How about you? How’s your job?” At Sarah’s groan, Sam said, “Uh, oh, tell me all about it.”
Pouring herself another glass of wine, Sarah recounted the mess her work life had become in just a few short weeks.
“So, what are you going to do?”
“Do? I’m going to keep plugging away. What else can I do? There’s really nothing else here. I don’t want to go into private practice, and I don’t want to leave my home.” After all the moves during her childhood, Sarah had finally put down roots, and she wasn’t willing to pull them up again.
“That’s too bad. We have a position coming open.” Sam must have seen a spark in her eye, and pushed a little harder. “It’s an entry level position, but it’s a great way to get your foot in the door. It’s a lot of work, but you’d love it, and you’d be great at it, especially with your legal background.”
Sarah bit her lip, tempted. A fresh start, away from the Bitchkrieg.
“And, as an added bonus, we’d get to work together.”
Sarah had to admit it sounded great, getting paid to read novels, but she couldn’t make yet another career change. More importantly, she couldn’t make yet another move. “I won’t say it isn’t tempting, but, no, I’ll stick it out here.”
After a beat or two, Sam asked, “Whatever happened to that manuscript you wrote in college? It was good. In fact, as I recall, it was very good.”
Sarah had forgotten about her attempt at writing an Austen-style novel. She’d just finished a course on Austen, and was hell-bent on becoming a writer. That is, before her father talked some sense into her. “It’s probably up in the attic somewhere.”
“You should pull it out again.” At Sarah’s eye-rolling smirk, Sam continued. “You’ve got a real gift, and you shouldn’t squander gifts.”
“You’re getting preachy on me.”
“Sorry, but you wouldn’t believe some of the crap I read, and the kicker is, it gets published. Your work is far better. I’m just saying, think about it.” Polishing off her wine, she asked, “So, how do you plan to entertain me this weekend?”
Carlos opened the door to exit Sarah’s office, laughter in his voice over the client’s last comment about the federal government being ‘here to help’ and ran straight into the cold, imposing visage of the Bitchkrieg. His laughter died a sudden, tragic death.
“Sarah, can I see you in my office?” The ice crackled in her voice as she turned on her heel and marched up the hall.
Sarah and Carlos exchanged a knowing look.
“Sure,” Sarah said to the now-empty door.
After giving Sarah a sympathetic look, Carlos beat a hasty retreat.
“Close the door, and have a seat, while I finish this e-mail.”
Impatiently waiting while Patricia tapped out her e-mail, nails clicking on the keys, Sarah looked out the window at the view that should have been hers.
As if reading her thoughts, Patricia couldn’t resist another dig. “Lovely, isn’t it? Too bad everyone can’t have this view, but then again, with success comes a few perks.”
“Patricia, did you call me into your office to discuss the view?” Sarah knew she shouldn’t poke at the angry beast, but Patricia really got under her skin.
Patricia responded with her icy stare. “No. I called you in here to warn you about your little office romance.”
What the . . .
“Look, as a woman, I understand we all have needs,”—Patricia lips turned up into a snide grin—“and Carlos would get any woman’s motor running, but as your boss, I must instruct you to break off this relationship.”
Patricia examined a bright pink nail as she continued. “You know that fraternization is prohibited by hospital policy, and even if it wasn’t, I would prohibit it by office policy. It’s bad for morale.”
Sarah was too stunned to speak. Maybe Ann and Becca were right. Maybe Carlos did have a crush on her and something in his manner gave it away to everyone but her.
“Oh come now, you can’t be surprised that I discovered your