“Trust me when I tell you it’s not that easy,” said Gran. “That girl is still hung up on her boss. So much so he’s got her pining for him, and hoping against hope that he’ll take her back and make an honest woman out of her.”
“Yeah, but he won’t, right? And once she sees that, she’ll snap out of it.”
“It’s going to take more than a few seduction techniques to make that girl fall out of love with Madison. She’s head over heels, that one.”
“Yeah, so is Tommy,” said Scarlett. “Smitten like a kitten.”
Dooley eyed me curiously.“I didn’t know kittens could be smitten,” he said.
“Only in the springtime,” I said, causing Dooley to frown. Look, I know my answer wasn’t satisfactory, but I had Natalie and Tom’s happiness on my mind. No matter how experienced I might be as a detective, this matchmaking business was a whole other ball of wax! Navigating the complexities of human emotions and human relationships is a lot harder than cracking a murder case, let me tell you!
Just then, another person came stalking through the office. He was a tall man with thick dark hair and a noble sort of face. He was making a beeline for Madison’s office, and didn’t bother to knock or announce his arrival before entering.
We could see him planting his hands on Madison’s desk, a departure from the norm of regular social behavior the big boss did not appreciate, judging from the furious look on the latter’s face.
“So who’s this bozo now?” asked Gran, a touch of frustration in her voice.
Lucky for us Danny the mailroom boy was on hand to enlighten us.
He must have heard Gran’s outcry, for he materialized next to our desk and said, a glimmer of enjoyment in his eyes, “That, my dear ladies, is Gary Rapp.”
“Who’s he?” asked Gran bluntly.
“Gary is a fashion editor. Or rather was. Madison fired him last week. And my best guess is that he didn’t take kindly to being summarily dismissed like that.”
“So why did Madison can his ass?” asked Gran.
“Turns out Gary likes the ladies more than the ladies like him,” said Danny, a little cryptically. When both Gran and Scarlett looked up at the kid with expectant looks on their faces, he elucidated, “For his job Gary spent a lot of time on photoshoots. Turns out he couldn’t keep his hands to himself on many of these occasions. So when several models filed an official complaint with HR, Madison had no choice but to get rid of the guy. That kind of behavior might have been condoned once upon a time, but unfortunately for Mr. Rapp, times have changed.”
“Good riddance,” Gran grunted. She then turned to Danny, who clearly was the fount of information she had hoped he was. “Say, Danny. I heard a rumor that big boss Madison managed to get one of your colleagues pregnant. Any truth to that?”
Danny wiggled his eyebrows meaningfully.“Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t.”
“I’m guessing maybe it is. So who’s the lucky lady?”
Danny directed a meaningful look at Natalie’s back, and Scarlett and Gran gasped in shock. “No way,” said Scarlett.
But Danny nodded.“Yes, way. Though now rumor has it that Gary might have had something to do with it.”
“Gary Rapp is Natalie’s baby daddy?” asked Gran.
“Shh! Not so loud!” Danny admonished her. “But yeah. It’s the latest rumor that’s been doing the rounds. Though my money is still on Madison.”
“People are betting who the father is?” asked Scarlett.
“You didn’t get this from me, but if you want in on the syndicate, just say the word. As of ten minutes ago, odds on Gary are five to one, Madison is ten to one.”
“Looks like Madison’s got the better odds, huh?” said Gran, nodding.
A loud noise had us all look up. Gary Rapp had slammed the door on his way out, with Natalie looking on with a fervent look on her face, cheeks flaming red.
Danny cursed under his breath.“Looks like Gary’s stock has just gone up. Now I’ll have to go and make the rounds again.”
And indeed, several hands went up, beckoning the office boy. People had evidently closely witnessed the scene, and were ready to change favorites!
“I think it’s disgusting,” said Scarlett. “Betting on a girl’s happiness like that.”
“Welcome to the world of office politics,” said Gran. “Where fortunes are made or lost in the blink of an eye. Or the arrival or departure of a current favorite.”
CHAPTER 12
[Êàðòèíêà: img_2]
Tex should have been in the office, but instead he was trolling through the neighborhood, collecting the letters a troop of girl scouts had delivered the day before. Marge had told him in no uncertain terms what she thought of a man who put his love letters to her in the trash, and this was his chance at redemption.
Harriet and Brutus were trailing him, and making sure he collected every last one of the letters. They were under strict instruction not to let Marge’s husband out of their sight, since she didn’t trust him any further right now than she could throw him. Whatever that meant.
Brutus thought it was a strange expression. Why would Marge want to throw Tex? He even thought it was probably physically impossible for a diminutive woman like Marge to throw a tall man like her husband. Unless she had suddenly developed superhuman strength, or had joined the ranks of the Marvel universe.
“Promise me you’ll never write me any love letters, snuggle bear,” Harriet now told her mate.
“I promise, sweet cheeks,” said Brutus.
“I mean, imagine if our personal thoughts were distributed amongst all of our friends—or even worse, a bunch of complete strangers. It’s too horrible to contemplate!”
“You do know that cats can’t write, don’t you, lemon drop?” asked Brutus with a touch of concern. “We don’t have the opposable thumbs to hold a pen.”
“I know that, love sponge. But still. Just for my own peace of mind, promise me you’ll never, ever put your personal musings about our relationship on paper.”
“I promise,” said Brutus fervently, and he meant it, too.
“Thank you, Mrs. Jackson,” said Tex as he accepted the letter from the older lady.
“You have very nice handwriting, Doctor Poole,” said Mrs. Jackson. “I could understand nearly everything you wrote. There’s just one passage that wasn’t clear to me. What did you mean by ‘I want to be your Tampax?’”
Tex swallowed once or twice.“I’m sure you must have misread, Mrs. Jackson.”
“I don’t think so. I distinctly remember reading it and wondering what it meant. I even asked my friend Mrs. Jones, and she said it probably referred to a tampon. And I said you couldn’t possibly be referring to a tampon, since the rest of your letter was very sweet, but also very sexy, if you know what I mean. And tampons may be a lot of things, but they’re not sexy or sweet, are they now?”
“No,” said Tex. “No, I guess not.”
He was sweating profusely, Brutus saw, and he felt for the guy.
“This is probably the most humiliating thing I’ve ever seen,” he told his girlfriend. “Poor Tex. I feel for him.”
“I’d feel more for him if he hadn’t put those letters out for trash collection,” said Harriet, and Brutus could see his girlfriend was as implacable as Marge had been. And suddenly he felt relieved that cats couldn’t write. Imagine having the whole world made privy to your personal thoughts about tampons and such. He shivered as Tex said his goodbyes to Mrs. Jackson, and slumped off.
“Only two more to go,” the good doctor announced, trying to put on a brave face. But Brutus could see that his heart wasn’t in it.
Clearly this was not the doctor’s finest hour.
[Êàðòèíêà: img_4]
Odelia, who’d finished up an article on the best herbs and spices to make the perfect pumpkin soup, waltzed into her uncle’s office down at the police precinct.
Uncle Alec looked up when his niece entered and looked relieved to see her.“What brings you here?” he asked as he leaned back in his chair and intertwined his hands behind his head.