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“I need to be nowhere except at my desk, doing my damn work.”
“Are you pissy at me because of something Charlie Fletcher said?” Fox swaggers across my office and sets his fist on my desk. “Because she might’ve been married, but I wasn’t the one who broke vows. Maybe she’s a mom, but moms are allowed to fuck too.”
Stunned by his words, I wrinkle my nose and take a step back. “Insanely inappropriate, Detective. And not something I wish to discuss at work—or any other time.”
“She didn’t say she was married when we hooked up! She didn’t say shit.”
“Yes, well.” Lowering into my chair, I study my screen in hopes he’ll take a hint and understand just how unimportant he is to me. “I find that hard to believe, but like I’ve already said, inappropriate and not something I wish to discuss. You know the way out, Detective, and I strongly recommend you find a different medical examiner’s office to work with in the future.” Finally glancing up, I look to the door and wait for him to use it.
The moment he steps out, I bring my gaze back to Seraphina, whose lips are pinched like she tastes lemon.
“Ignore him. He’s a pig.”
“He went to bed with a married mom?” Pulling out the chair on the other side of my desk, she gracefully sits down and places her planner on her lap. “He sounds like a catch.”
“Sure, like how you want to catch syphilis. Do you still need to be here?”
“What?” She searches my eyes. Then, “Oh!” Shoving back to her feet, she hugs that planner to her chest. “You forfeited your nail appointment, Doctor Mayet, but you still have time to make hair and makeup. I can have a car take you over, so you don’t have to worry about—”
“No thanks.”
“N-no thanks?” She stops her instructions. “No thanks to the car?”
“No thanks to the hair and makeup. And the dress. And the drama. And everything that it entails. I’m not going.”
“What do you mean you’re not going?” she blusters. “You have to go!”
“I don’t, actually.” Reaching across my desk and picking up my phone, I dial the number I long ago wrote on a post-it and set down for easy access.
“Attendance is merely a courtesy, Seraphina. The mayor will still let us have our budget, even if I don’t wear a stupid dress and heels to eat a meal I don’t want. Hi.” The moment the mayor’s assistant answers, I change my tone to something a little friendlier. “Ms. Guthrie, it’s Doctor Mayet from the George Stanley building.”
“Yes, of course, Doctor Mayet. How can I help you?”
“Is Mayor Lawrence available? I know, with the ball just hours away, he’s probably run off his feet, but I need only a minute of his time.”
“Of course. Hold please.”
She sets me on hold so violins play in my ear, so while I wait, my eyes go to Seraphina.
“You can still attend,” I tell her. “No one is stopping you.”
“Youneedto attend! You’re the face of the George Stanley. You need—”
“Doctor Mayet?” Justin Lawrence’s tone, when he speaks to me, is perpetually humored. “Shouldn’t you be in a stylist’s chair right this moment?”
My eyes narrow to dangerous slits. “I’m actually calling with apologies, Mayor.”
“Oh?”
“I can’t make dinner. Something came up at the office, and I can’t—”
“She’s lying,” Seraphina risks her job and shoves forward to press her hands to my desk. “She just doesn’t want to go!”
I slap my hand over the phone receiver and glare at my assistant. “Go. Away.”
“Doctor Mayet?” On the phone, Justin only snickers. “Is she still alive?”
Clearing my throat, I bring my attention back to the mayor and away from a smugFifi, who’s pleased with herself for dampening my exit plan. “I can’t come, sir. I simply can’t swing the time. But I send my regrets for wasting a meal you could’ve allocated to someone else.”
