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?I moved closer to Winsley and noted she wore a hat that looked like she found it inside an Agatha Christie novel. On her jacket, her jade cameo of Sherlock Holmes reflected the dim light with a jewel-like quality. She had a martini glass in front of her, from which she took delicate sips.
?“You’re right, Winsley, I have to learn to control myself a bit.”
?“It’s never too late to act like a lady,” she attempted.
?I hung my head. “It might be for me. I should find Mark and apologize. Do you know where he is?”
?“I believe he went off to dinner with Candy,” she said, and then her attention shifted as Charles Nederlander stepped into the room. “Excuse me.”
?I sat at the bar alone and wanted to bang my head against it in the hope that it would knock some sense into it. So, Mark did go off with her just like they’d mentioned when I eavesdropped on them. Great, I couldn’t control my temper, and that tart would spend the night telling him what an awful person I was. I took another sip and hung my head in misery, as I heard Winsley bring Charles close to our part of the bar.
?“Really, Winsley, this isn’t the place to discuss this,” Charles told her in a hoarse whisper.
?“Randall promised he would be here tonight,” Winsley fired back. “I was supposed to get answers from him.”
?Randall didn’t come to the opening night? That was odd as this convention was his baby. On the other hand, I was glad he missed the chance to see me make an ass of myself.
?“I’m not his keeper,” Charles murmured as he ordered a drink.
?“No, you’re his partner,” Winsley insisted. “And I am your biggest investor. I would suggest you become his keeper and make him meet me as he promised. I will have my own accountants go through the dealings of your entire company with a fine-toothed comb. Do I make myself clear?”
?“Very, Winsley. Look, why don’t I buy you a drink and we can talk—”
?I glanced up to see Charles put his arm carefully to Winsley’s back and guide her away from me to a nearby table. They continued to talk quietly, but I could no longer hear them over the noise of the bar.
?I ordered some bar food, so that I would have something in my stomach and stopped at the second drink. I also found I wondered about Randall’s absence.
?I had been one of the founders of the New York chapter about five years earlier, with Charles, Jon, and Randall. This was before I wrote my first Holmes book. I had gotten the crazy notion that since my maiden name sounded the same, I might have some insights.
?I guess it had been a good choice. I had been selling steadily and getting attention with critics and readers alike. But then Candy, who was a member of the club, showed up in my bed with her parts wrapped around my husband. The divorce drove a wedge between me and the others.
?At this point, Mark Watkins probably sympathized with Randall, after I’d come out as the bitch-goddess tonight and shot down his Q&A.
?Having finished eating, and knowing I had several panels in the morning, I decided it was time to head upstairs. Fortunately, no one had bothered me while I ate, but after the show I had given, everyone was probably avoiding me.
?I headed to the elevator and took it up to the twelfth floor and my room. Once in there, I pulled a bottled water from the minibar to counteract the alcohol I’d consumed, but I needed some ice.
?Making sure my plastic key was in the pocket of my jumpsuit, I took my plastic ice bucket and wandered out into the hall. There was a small alcove near room 1230 that had the ice machine. I heard the machine going and knew someone was filling their bucket. As I walked through the open doorway, a man turned from the machine, and without standing up completely or looking where he was going, almost walked face-first into my bosom!
?“What are you doing?” I shrieked.
?He fell back in surprise, his ice bucket slipped from his hands, and frozen cubes went flying.
?On the floor sat Mark Watkins.
?I was overwhelmed with mixed emotions. I wanted to apologize. I wanted to yell at him for not being aware of where he was going. My sarcastic side won.
?“It would be you!” I sniped, not liking my own tone. “I guess they stuck all of us on this floor.”
?“I was just getting some ice,” Mark explained as he got up and gave a glance at the mess. “I’m not the one who snuck up on you.”
?“I didn’t sneak!” I fumed. Why did this man always make me so angry!
?“Well, I didn’t know you were there,” he stated, and put his bucket back under the machine to refill it.
?“Is that an apology?” I pressed.
?“I have nothing to apologize for. You startled me.”
