Foods, Fools and a Dead Psychic by Maria Swan (best books to read for students TXT) 📕

That must have gotten Sunny’s attention because she faced me and frowned, “Where is Kassandra?”

“Huh?”

I had to remember to close my mouth. I must have looked like an idiot, a red faced idiot. “She’s home, I guess. Scott was here and... then he left. I’ve been answering the phones. I’m not very good at it and...”

Under Tristan’s amber-eyed scrutiny I could hardly breathe like a normal human being, let alone talk. Something in my dazed behavior must have reached Sunny’s consciousness; her attitude changed.

“Monica, I’m so sorry. Thank you for pitching in. Had no idea about Kassandra’s absence. Let me see who I can get to cover for her.”

Before I could sigh in relief, the front door opened again and Sunny’s daughter and reluctant part-time receptionist, Celine, made her grand entrance. She headed straight for Tristan, sashaying to the beat of her stiletto heels and sporting a smile that said, “I only have eyes for you.”

Until her mother stepped in front of her.

“Celine,” Sunny said. “Perfect timing, I need you to mind the phones while I find out what’s going on with Kassandra.” I could swear I heard a faint skidding of heels against the tile floors, but maybe it was my lack of caffeine or the excess of lust in the air that played mind tricks on me.

“The phones? Me? But mom, why? Have her do it.” She pointed her perfectly manicured finger at me. I didn’t even bother to wait for Sunny’s response, I headed to my own cubicle, walking stiff like a marionette, painfully aware of Tristan’s gaze on me. And what was Celine doing there? You’d think she had Tristan microchipped the way she bulldogged him. To his credit, he barely nodded hello in her direction. His hair had grown; now it was almost the same length as the first time we met. When I had mistaken him for a construction worker three months ago, and yet it felt like a lifetime away. I dropped my things in the limited space I called my own and walked around from cubicle to cubicle to hand out the phone messages I had jotted down on sticky notes. By the responses you’d think these people had forgotten about paper and pen... but some of them reacted rather funnily. One of the post-its happened to be pink and the male agent who got it made a big production of announcing loudly; “It’s a girl, it’s a girl.” Followed by a round of laughter.

I was dying to get myself some coffee, but that meant walking by the front lobby where Sunny and Celine were still locking horns from the sound of it. Where was Tristan?

Oh, no. He had found his way to my cubicle. I spotted him before he turned and smiled.

“There you are.” He handed me a business card. “He should be calling you any day now.”

I glanced at the card, a fancy law firm and a name followed by Esq. Impressive of course. “What is this for?”

“It’s the law firm sorting out the damages and settlement pertaining to our accident.” Still holding the card, fingers lingering, so close to mine.

Our accident. We shared something. Was I smiling? Mercy. A true fool. That’s what Tristan’s presence did to my common sense. I managed a heartfelt, “Oh,” just as Sunny caught up to us and called out, “Tristan, Title is on the phone.” And with a light nod and a smile, he let go of the business card and followed my boss to her sanctum sanctorum.

My hands trembled. Get a grip Monica, you came to the office to work not to turn to mush because of... enough. I straightened up and marched to the kitchen to get myself some well-deserved coffee. My cell chimed in my pocket as I poured the steaming liquid salvation into my mug. I eyed some leftover bagels. Perfect. Grabbed one, rested it next to the coffee and saw a welcome name on the screen. “Morning, Kassandra.”

“Hi, I’m parked across the street, I’m so embarrassed. What did Sunny say?”

“About what? And why are you whispering? I’m in the kitchen, getting coffee and scraping up leftover bagels.”

“Is Scott covering for me?”

“Scott left. Look, no one needs to know about the cops and the search warrant.”

“You do.”

“Scott told me before he disappeared and left me in charge of answering the phones. I haven’t told a soul.”

“Oh, thank you, thank you. I owe you one. Wait, if you’re in the kitchen who is at the front desk?”

“Celine.” Long pause.

“Crap. Celine? What the hell is she doing there so early? Wait. I know. I bet the Dumont stud is there.” She sighed. “I’m coming in, don’t want that spoiled brat to mess up everyone’s day. And you’re sure? No one knows about, you know... Save me some bagel crumbs. I’m starving.” She was gone before I had a chance to slip in a single question about the search warrant. What were the cops looking for? The panties matching the bra?

Being the only one in the kitchen felt liberating. Why would I think that? I lived alone. Well, most of the time, as Brenda and I shared the same driveway. Plus, I had my own cubicle here at the office Maybe it was because the kitchen was like Switzerland... neutral. We all walked through it and tried to leave it as we found it... and... we didn’t borrow other people’s stuff.

I heard the chime of the front door opening, followed by Celine barking, “About time you made it to work. Next time you decide to sleep in, hire your own substitute.”

Immediately followed by a furry of heels clapping on tile. I counted to ten before sticking my head out of the kitchen doorway.

“And a good morning to you, also,” I chimed when Her Lateness stumbled past. “Relax. I’ll bring your coffee and let you catch up, but we must do lunch because I’m dying to hear about the — c o p s — okay?”

Kassandra