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receptionist, the waistband was down around her hips.
    The stately brunette woman wearing a knockoff Chanel suit looked a bit startled as she watched Avery approach.
    “Miss Delaney?”
    “Yes,” she answered.
    The woman smiled. “You’re right on time. Mr. Carter will appreciate that. He keeps a tight schedule.”
    Avery leaned forward as the woman picked up the phone to announce her. “Is there a ladies’ room close by?”
    “It’s down the hall, past the bank of elevators, on your left.”
    Avery glanced behind her and considered her options. She could be late for the appointment, try to run like hell down the mile-long hallway and rip off the damn pantyhose, or she could—
    The receptionist interrupted her frantic thoughts. “Mr. Carter will see you now.”
    She didn’t move.
    “You may go inside,” she said.
    “The thing is . . .”
    “Yes?”
    Avery slowly straightened. The panty hose stayed put. Smiling, she said, “I’ll go on in then.”
    She pivoted and held her smile as she grabbed the edge of the desk, and then tried to walk as though her shoe still had a heel. With any luck, Carter wouldn’t even notice her condition.
    Who was she kidding? The man was trained to be observant.
    Tall, distinguished-looking, with a thick head of silver-tipped hair and a square chin, Tom Carter stood when she entered. She hobbled forward. When she reached the chair in front of his desk, she wanted to throw herself into it, but waited for him to give her permission.
    Carter reached across the desk to shake her hand, and it was then, as she was stretching forward, that her panty hose gave up the fight. The crotch was now down around her knees. In a panic, she grabbed his hand and shook it vigorously. Too late she realized she was clutching the heel of her shoe in her right hand. She hadn’t sweated this much since she took the graduate record exam.
    “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir. An honor, really. You wanted to see me? My, it’s warm in here. Would you mind if I removed my jacket?”
    She was rambling but couldn’t seem to stop. The remark about the temperature had gotten his attention, though. Thank God, the rumors were right. Carter did have his own thermostat and liked to keep his office just below freezing. It was like an Alaskan tomb. Avery was surprised she couldn’t see her breath when she exhaled. That’s when she realized she wasn’t breathing.
    Calm down, she told herself. Take a deep breath.
    Carter enthusiastically nodded. He didn’t mention the heel that had dropped on top of a stack of files on his desk. “I thought it was warm, but my assistant keeps telling me it’s cold in here. Let me just turn down the thermostat a notch.”
    She didn’t wait for him to give her permission to sit. The second he turned his back, she snatched the heel off the files—which she noticed were labeled with her name and the names of the other members of the pen—and then fell into the chair. Her panty hose were in a wad around her knees. She frantically unbuttoned her jacket, removed it, and draped it over her lap.
    Her arms and shoulders were covered in goose bumps seconds later.
    Suck it up, she thought. It was going to be okay. Once he sat down behind his desk, she could slowly work the hose down her legs and get rid of them. Carter would never be the wiser.
    It was a great plan, and it would have worked if Carter had cooperated, but he didn’t return to his chair. He walked over to her side, then leaned back to sit on the edge of his desk. She wasn’t short by Margo’s standards, but she still had to tilt her head back in order to look into his eyes. There seemed to be a twinkle, which she thought was quite odd, unless, of course, he enjoyed firing people. God, maybe that rumor was true too.
    “I noticed you were limping. How did you hurt your knee?” he asked. He bent down to pick up the barrette that had fallen to the floor.
    “An accident,” she said, taking the barrette and dropping it in