Once Bitten. Clare Willis
seem right, with Lucy not here. We should probably put them off and wait until she shows up to decide on our next move.”
“Angie, Angie, Angie.” Kimberley shook her head. “That’s why I like you, you’re so…nice. Can’t you smell an opportunity here?”
She moved closer. “You and I both know that Lucy was never going to let us get ahead. I hope she’s all right, and I’m sure she is, but this is our chance.”
I was sure she wanted to say “my chance,” but I let her go on.
“If we show some initiative I’m sure Dick will take notice. Then maybe we can go over Lucy’s head to get a little more responsibility.”
The gleam in her eye was that of a cat who’d just spied a lame mouse. I loved the way she kept saying “we.” I could tell she felt she couldn’t go to the House of Usher by herself, since the invitation had been to both of us. But given the events of this morning, I figured she’d try to find some way to leave me on the highway with a flat tire.
“Okay, we’ll go,” I said. “Then if someone wants to suck our blood, we can defend each other.”
“Whatever.” Kimberley rolled her eyes.
“By the way,” I tried to make it sound like an afterthought, “about this morning, what you said to Dick…”
She brushed an imaginary lint fleck from her jacket.
“I know we’ve both been feeling a little controlled by Lucy, and it seemed like a good chance to show your stuff, but really, what you did was out of line.”
Kimberley knitted her perfect eyebrows and tilted her head as if she were trying to understand a foreign language. “It seems like you’re accusing me of something, Angie.”
“Someone deleted all my Macabre Factor files and emails.” I summoned my acting prowess in an attempt to look menacing and accusatory.
“Someone? Are you saying I did it? How would I know your password?”
“It’s my birthday.” My twenty-eighth birthday had just passed. Theresa had brought out a cake at the end of the day and everyone sang Happy Birthday, then the men ate cake while the women drank Diet Coke.
“Theresa told me neither you nor Lucy were here this morning, so I got ready to handle things by myself. And when you did show up you weren’t prepared. As for your computer, if it’s organized like your office or your bedroom, it’s no wonder you lost the files.” She smiled and twitched her head like a bird. “I’m going to do you a favor and forget we had this conversation. By the way, I’m house-sitting at my parents’ for a few days, so I won’t be at the apartment. Why don’t we just meet at the House of Usher, say about eleven o’clock? I bet things get started late.”
“How are you going to change clothes?”
“I have clothes at my parents’. And there’s my mom’s closet as well.”
“Okay, then. I’ll see you at the club.” I left, closing her door gently behind me. I didn’t know what to think. Maybe I’d been wrong about Kimberley, maybe the loss of the files was a computer glitch or a big, stupid mistake on my part. And even if I’d had the presentation ready on my laptop I wasn’t sure I would have been able to take over the way Kimberley had, without any concern about other people’s feelings. Kimberley had me beat in the ambition department and now I could see my ruthlessness wasn’t up to par either.
Back in my office, I organized my email files until the blue screen of my desktop was as clear as the Tahitian ocean. Then I sorted through every piece of paper that was on my desk. I never found the Macabre Factor files, however, so I ruefully sent Kimberley an email asking for copies. That killed most of the morning, and I decided to leave a little early to move the car and have the alfresco lunch I’d promised myself.
In the ground floor lobby I ran into Steve Blomfelt, in an impeccable charcoal gray suit and white shirt so starched it looked like it was made of paper. While other men just tied their ties, Steve actually knew the difference between a Windsor knot and a four-in-hand and alternated them depending on the fabric.
“Leaving already?” he asked. “Did one of the other kids steal your crayons?”
Steve was a master of the split personality—starched and serious with clients and a riotously bitchy queen with friends and colleagues. He was also the closest thing to a friend that I had at this house of mirrors we called an office. Steve was thirty-five, seven years older than I, but he’d been in the advertising business for only two years. Before that he worked as a travel agent booking gay tours, until the Internet made his job obsolete. We also had that in common—we both wanted to be doing something else but hadn’t been able to make a living at it.
“Hey, Steve, I’m glad I ran into you. I want to ask you a favor. You know my clients, Macabre Factor?”
“You mean Lucy’s clients, don’t you?” Steve grinned evilly.
“Lucy’s still not back yet, Steve. No one’s seen her yet today.”
The smile turned to concern. “That is strange. I hope she’s all right.”
“Yeah, me too,” I said, and immediately felt guilty.
“Your clients, Angie?” Steve prompted.
“They rejected the preliminary ideas. It appears they want normal people to see themselves in the vampire lifestyle, not Suleiman and Moravia in the normal one. They want Kimberley and me to come out tonight to a club. Their idea is that they’ll use people from the club as models.”
“It could work. At least in New York and LA. I don’t know about Paducah, Kentucky.” Steve patted his wavy black hair, but it was already perfect. “Actually I take that back. All the teenagers in Paducah will move here when they see the ads.”
“The weird thing is that they said Kimberley had been to this club with them, but she never mentioned it to me, though, or anyone else.”
“I guess it wasn’t worth mentioning. I’ve certainly been to some strange places to schmooze a client. Me, at a baseball game?” He shuddered. “Clients are fickle, Angie. You know that. They wake up one morning and decide that dancing bears are the best way to sell their product. Go to this club with them. Maybe you’ll see something that Kimberley didn’t.”
“Can you come with me?”
“Tonight? No, sorry, I have a date. What about Kimberley?”
“Oh, she’s going. You wouldn’t believe what she did this morning, Steve. It’s like Lucy being gone has made her crazy.”
I took a step closer and lowered my voice. “I swear she got into my computer and deleted my Macabre Factor files. Then she asked Dick to let her make the pitch this morning.”
“What did she say when you confronted her?” He paused and narrowed his eyes. “You did say something, didn’t you?”
“Yes, I confronted her. She denied everything, of course.”
“So all you know is that she tried to take the lead at the presentation? That’s not crazy, Miss Angie. That’s what we call ambitious. Maybe you could learn something from Kimberley’s, um, initiative?”
“Steve, the thing I hated about acting was that every time you got a gig you had to screw someone, one way or the other. I intend to do things the honorable way.”
Steve rolled his eyes so vigorously the irises practically disappeared. “Angie, you really are too sweet to live. Let’s go get some lunch before I have to take a shot of insulin.”
I grabbed Steve by the sleeve. “Steve, do you think I should be nervous about going?”
“To lunch?”
I punched him in the arm. “No, to the club.”
“Why?”
“Well,