Read Burn: A Novel for Free Online

hallway, and led Jenner at a brisk pace down the long expanse.
    They walked past large, slickly decorated offices, visible through open doors. Other doors were closed, so Jenner had to use her imagination about their appearance and inhabitants. As they went down the hallway, the offices became smaller in size, the furniture plainer. She began to think she should have picked a number larger than fifty grand for her white lie, because evidently Ms. Smith wasn’t very high in the Payne Echols pecking order.
    The assistant stopped in front of a door, tapped lightly, then turned the knob. “Ms. Redwine to see you,” she said, stepping back so Jenner could enter the small office, then closing the door and presumably returning to her even smaller cubbyhole.
    A somewhat stocky woman with too-short hair stood up behind a slightly battered desk and with a tight smile extended her hand to Jenner. “I’m Al Smith.”
    “Al?” Jenner repeated. Maybe she’d heard wrong.
    The tight smile widened the barest bit. “It’s short for Alanna. No one calls me that.” From the complete lack of humor in the comment, Jenner suspected no one dared. Al Smith continued, “I understand you have a small inheritance you’re interested in investing.”
    Small? No one Jenner knew would call fifty grand “small,” but in a place like this, even to the inhabitants of the less-than-lavish offices, it was probably chump change. Again she perched on the edge of her seat, and studied Al Smith across the expanse of desk.
    Ms. Smith couldn’t be called a pretty woman. Not only was her dark hair too short, she didn’t wear much makeup—if any—and the gray suit she was wearing made her look boxy. If her lack of wrinkles was anything to go by, she was probably not much older than Jenner, but the image she projected added ten years to her age. Her eyes were disconcertingly pale, her gaze direct, and she didn’t look as if she laughed very often.
    Jenner didn’t trust easily. Just because this woman worked for a top-notch financial planning firm, didn’t mean she was reliable and honest. She did like the no-bullshit attitude, though.
    “Can I ask you a question?” she finally said.
    Ms. Smith looked faintly interested. “Of course, but I might not answer it.”
    “Fair enough. How long have you worked here?”
    “A little more than two years.” She didn’t seem surprised by the question. “It’s obvious I’m low man on the totem pole here. That doesn’t mean I’m not good at my job. I’ll work my way up.”
    “How old are you?”
    Ms. Smith gave a bark of laughter. “That’s more personal than I expected, but I don’t mind telling you. I’m twenty-seven. Yes, I’m young. I understand your concern. But I’m here to help, and I won’t always be in one of the back offices.”
    The straightforward ambition appealed to Jenner more than any generic, diplomatic reassurance would have. She glanced around the small office, thinking that Al Smith might be leaving it sooner than she’d expected. Her gaze fell on the shelf behind the desk. There were a couple of plants, smaller and less perfect than those in the lobby, and some simply framed snapshots of Ms. Smith and another woman smiling into the camera, their arms looped around each other’s shoulders. The pose struck Jenner as somewhat romantic, and she stared at the photos a moment too long.
    Ms. Smith glanced over her shoulder at the photos, and her mouth tightened. “Yes, Ms. Redwine, I’m a lesbian—but don’t worry; you aren’t my type. Skinny little blondes don’t appeal to me.”
    Judging from the photographs, Jenner would say Ms. Smith preferred tall, curvy redheads. To each his—or her—own.
    Jenner smiled, relaxing. She liked this plainspoken, up-front woman. “I don’t have an inheritance,” she admitted, digging into her bag and pulling out her wallet. Opening it, she pulled out the newspaper clipping and laid it on the desk in front of Ms. Smith. Next she took