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As a matter of fact, if Maggie hadn’t recently saved Faith’s life in what she still considered a moment of insanity, the two women would meet only when it was impossible for them to keep their distance. Like at conferences, and the annual Toland Books Christmas party.
    â€œOh, I just had a thought. Are you going to continue Kirk’s Christmas bashes, Bernie?” she asked, thinking unfondly of Bernie’s recently deceased ex-husband. Hell, he’d come within a hair of becoming deceased in her own apartment . . . a fact Maggie tried not to dwell on.
    â€œNo, no more parties. We’re still in negotiations over the sexual harassment suit last year’s Santa brought against us,” Bernie said, pushing her hands through her wild, flaming mop of expensively cut and colored hair.
    â€œAgainst you, you mean,” Maggie pointed out, grinning.
    â€œHey, a stripping Santa should be prepared for the occasional grope. We’re sending out hams to everybody. Legal suggested it. Damn!”
    Bernie reached into her bag yet again, this time coming out with her cell phone, which she held at arm’s length so that she could read the caller ID, because she might still look mid-thirties, but the illusion had yet to notify her eyes of that fact. “Felicity. Sure, like I have a death wish,” she said, dropping the phone back into the purse. “You know, now that I think of it, she’ll probably call here next, if she hasn’t already. I had to tell the office where I was going, just in case my battery died. We’re in the middle of a three-day auction for some nonfiction about global warming, or maybe it’s that shrinking rain forest business? Some hot-button topic. Anyway, Felicity might call here.”
    â€œHere? Oh, thanks, Bernie. Remind me that you’re getting coal in your stocking this year,” Maggie said as, sure enough, her phone began to ring, at just about the same moment Maggie changed her mind, thinking it might be fun to talk to poor de- Times ’d Faith.
    â€œLet the machine pick up.”
    â€œOh, I don’t think so. I’ve been waiting for an opportunity like this for a long time. Besides, she’s being nice to me lately. That’s gotta stop—she’s so fake and sugary she makes my teeth hurt. Ready?” She waggled her eyebrows at Bernie, and then snatched up the phone, smiling as she looked at the caller ID. “Hel-l-l-o-o-o?” She grinned at Bernie. “Oh, hi, Faith, how are you? Really? Oh, my gosh, Faith, homicidal is never good. You want to know if Bernie’s here?”
    Bernie reached for the table lamp beside her and lifted it threateningly. With most anyone, that would be a threatening gesture, but that’s all it would be. Bernie was another matter, and Maggie really did like that lamp.
    â€œNo, Bernie’s not here. We just got back from England yesterday morning on the red-eye, you know. She’s probably at home, catching up on her sleep. Did you try her there? Oh, okay. Gee, Faith, you sound a little . . . agitated. Is something wrong? Can I help? I mean, anything I can do, you know that.”
    â€œYou’ve got a mean streak, Maggie Kelly,” Bernie whispered, replacing the lamp. “I love it—now quit while you’re ahead.”
    Maggie put her finger to her lips, and then held the receiver with both hands as Faith spilled her tale of woe. “Oh, man, Faith, that sucks,” she said at last, dancing in place. “Only three weeks? Wow.” It was time to plant a seed in the fertile soil of Faith’s insecurities. “So, hey—you’re afraid Bernie’s maybe going to drop you?”
    Bernie groaned and buried her head in her hands.
    â€œKnow something? Me? No, of course I don’t know anything, Faith. Don’t be ridiculous. My goodness, you’re a major talent. Some people would say you’ve had a good run, and you should maybe just