"You?"
"Yes, me."
I dropped into the chair across from his desk. He shared an office with Deanna, but she was still in the conference room. I was excited to talk to her later—I hoped she was open to my idea.
"I've put on a few pounds in the last month," I explained.
"You say?" he said in a way that made me think he'd noticed. "How few?"
"Ten."
Okay, it was fifteen, but who was counting?
"So, really fifteen?"
"I hate you."
He finally looked up, laughed. "You want the name of my trainer?"
"I was hoping."
"His name is Duke."
"Is that his first or last name?"
"People don't ask him questions like that." He jotted down a phone number, handed it to me. "I'll give him a call, let him know you'll be getting in touch. And good luck," he added. "You'll need it."
"Why?"
"You'll see."
Suddenly I didn't want to exercise anymore, but then I remembered the doughnuts.
"Well, okay then. Thanks." I left him in his office, wandered back into mine and plopped into my chair. I was worried about Kit. There was such sadness in his eyes.
Nels sat down across from me as the TBS line rang. I heard Brickhouse pick it up, mumble a few words, then disconnect with a polite, "Have a good day."
She was never that polite to me.
My office was suddenly filled with the sounds of Ma- donna's "Like a Virgin."
Nels shot me a question with his eyes.
"My cell phone." I rummaged through my backpack for it.
"Interesting ring tone."
"My cousin Ana has a sick sense of humor. She programmed it, and I don't know how to change it. Do you?"
Rather evilly, he smiled. "Nope."
I didn't believe him for a minute. Or Riley either, who'd said the same thing. One of these days I was going to find the time to stop by the kiosk at the mall where I'd gotten the phone and have someone fix it.
I finally located my phone at the bottom of my backpack, shut Madonna up by flipping it open.
"Is Carson Keyes single?" Ana asked without waiting for me to say hello.
"I don't know. He isn't married. Well, he doesn't wear a ring."
She tsked. "Well, even if he was it's not like that's stopped me before."
"True."
"A little more off the bottom," Ana said. "I'm feeling frisky today."
"What?"
"Not you. Angie."
I pushed papers aside, picked up my pen and started doodling on my blotter. "Angie?"
"Only the best hairdresser in the world."
"Oh."
"And thanks for not commenting on that frisky part."
Out of the corner of my eye I saw that Brickhouse was now standing next to Nels. "Hold on," I said to Ana.
Brickhouse clucked. "That was Pippi Lowther on the phone. She needs to cancel today. I rescheduled for tomorrow afternoon. Someone died."
"What?"
"At Lowther House."
"Oh." I didn't know any of the residents. "Thanks for letting me know."
I held the phone between my ear and my shoulder and jotted Pippi on my desk calendar for tomorrow. Right next to P erry . I'd have to call and cancel my appointment with him. "Ana?"
"Did I hear that someone died?"
"Don't get excited. It was just one of the residents of the retirement home where I'm doing a mini."
"Was it murder?"
"I doubt it. People there are old. Old people die. Naturally."
"Or it's made to look natural."
"I gotta go," I said before she could launch into a history of famous serial killers.
"Just keep an eye out when you're there."
"Good-bye!"
Glancing down at the blotter, I spotted Perry's name again . . . And my afternoon was suddenly free. I grabbed my phone.
A perky receptionist at Azure answered. "I'm sorry," she said, "but our stylists aren't allowed to accept calls. Do you wish to leave a message?"
"Do you know if he has any appointments open for this afternoon? Can you ask him? Tell him it's for Nina?"
"I'm not sure . . . "
"Please? If you could see my hair you'd understand."
"Please hold." Every woman understood bad hair days. Or years, as was apparently my case.
A second later she came back on the line. "He says to come in as soon as possible."
I glanced at the clock. "I'll be there in