Page 142 of Over Her Dead Body

I keep walking.

Celeste’s is closed.

Normally, I would wait to be invited in.

Today, I open the door.

Margot is sitting across from her.

There is a stack of files on Celeste’s desk.

Mine.

I know because I wrote the notes sticking out of them.

Margot stands so quickly her chair catches the rug.

“Emma.”

Celeste stays seated.

“I called you,” I say.

“I received your messages.”

That is all.

No apology.

No explanation for why I crossed an ocean believing my boss did not know whether I was alive.

I close the door.

Margot looks like she wants to say something.

Celeste gets there first.

“Your employment has been terminated.”

No preamble.

No meeting.

She motions toward a letter on her desk.

My name is at the top.

I look at the desk I have sat across from for years. The woman who taught me how to control a room without raising my voice. How to tell a collector his favorite painting is fake without making him feel stupid for buying it.

Useful lessons.

Celeste folds her hands.

“The family has made a formal complaint. You concealed a personal relationship with the man you represented as working with this house. You confirmed his access to a confidential client residence. The work you were sent to assess disappeared after that access was granted.”

“That’s not exactly what happened. I⁠—”

“A painting disappeared.”