Read The Rip-Off for Free Online Page B

resisting the urge to squirm or snicker.
    Poor Lo …
    "Poor Lo…"
    I chuckled wryly, poking fun at myself.
    "Well, screw it," I said. "They may kill me, but they can't eat me."
    There was a light patter of applause. Hand clapping.
    I sat up startled, and Manuela Aloe laughed and sat down at my side.
    "I'm sorry," she said. "I spoke to you a couple of times, but you didn't hear me."
    "B-but-but-" I began to get hold of myself. "What are you doing here?"
    "Your housekeeper showed me in. I came out here, because I was afraid you wouldn't come to the office after the terrible time you must have had last night."
    "You were right," I said. "I wouldn't have gone down to your office. And there really wasn't much point to your coming out here."
    "I did send a car to pick you up last night, Britt. I don't blame you for being angry, but I did do it."
    "Whatever you say," I said.
    "I don't know what happened to the driver. No one's seen him since. Our people aren't ordinarily so irresponsible, but it's not unheard of. But, anyway, I am sorry."
    "So much for the driver," I said. "Now what about Albert?"
    "Albert," she grimaced. "I don't know whether it was booze or dope or just plain stupidity that made him do what he did. I don't care, either. But he's out of a job as of this morning, and he'll be a long time in getting another one."
    She nodded to me earnestly, the dark eyes warm with concern. I hesitated, wanting to swallow my pride-how could I afford pride? Remembering Connie's demands for money.
    "There was something else," I said. "Something that came to me when I was outside your office yesterday."
    "Yes?" She smiled encouragingly. "What was that, Britt?"
    I hesitated again, trying to find some amiable euphemism for what was virtually an accusation. And finding excuses instead. After all, her office would logically have sound equipment in it; devices for auditing the tapes. And why, when I was so strongly drawn to this girl, and when I needed money so badly, should I continue to squeeze her for apologies and explanations.
    "Yes, Britt?"
    "Nothing," I said. "No, I mean it. Thinking it over, I seem to have found the answer to my own question."
    That wasn't true. Aside from the woman's being slapped, there was something else. The fact that PXA had milked me for all kinds of personal information as a condition for granting my loan. My likes and dislikes, my habits and weaknesses. Information that could be used to drive me up a figurative wall, should they take the notion.
    But I meant to give them no cause to take such a notion. And I am an incurable optimist, always hoping for the best despite the many times I have gotten the worst.
    Manny was studying me, her dark eyes boring into mine. Seemingly boring into my mind. And a sudden shadow blighted the room, and I was chilled with a sickening sense of premonition.
    Then she laughed gaily, gave herself a little shake, and assumed a businesslike manner.
    "Well, now," she said briskly. "I've had a long talk with Uncle Pat, and he's left everything to me. So how about a series of pamphlets on the kind of subjects you deal with for the Foundation?"
    "It sounds fine," I said. "Just, well, fine."
    "The pamphlets will be distributed free to schools, libraries and other institutions. They won't carry any advertising. Just a line to the effect that they are sponsored by PXA, as a public service."
    I said that was fine, too. Just fine. She opened her blond leather purse, took out a check and handed it to me. A check for thirty-five hundred dollars. Approximately twenty-nine hundred for the first month's work, with the rest for expenses.
    "Well?" She looked at me pertly. "All right? Any questions?"
    I let out a deep breath. "My God!" I breathed fervently. "Of course, it's all right! And no, no questions."
    She smiled and stood up, a lushly diminutive figure in her fawn-colored pantsuit. Her breasts and her bottom bulged deliciously against the material, seemed to strain for release. And I thought