Dusted to Death by Barbara Colley Read Free Book Online Page B

wall. For a moment he stared at the shoe; then abruptly, quick as a wink, he turned and disappeared through the doorway.
    Within seconds, the cursing stopped, and except for a distinctly male groan of pain, no other sounds came from the room. Moments later, Toby, towering over Nick, shoved the smaller man through the doorway into the hall.
    Charlotte swallowed hard. With one meaty hand, Toby had Nick’s arm twisted up behind his back and with his other hand he had a firm grip on Nick’s shoulder.
    His expression dark and angry, Nick spat out a profanity. “You’re breaking my arm.”
    Toby’s eyes narrowed and in a deep, gravelly voice edged with steel, he said, “Shut your filthy mouth or I’ll break more than just your arm.” As if to emphasize his point, he jerked Nick’s arm even higher.
    “Okay, okay,” Nick cried out. “Ease up, man.”
    With a satisfied nod, Toby told him to “Move it” and marched him down the hallway toward the staircase. “This time I want you off the property.”
    They were headed right toward Charlotte, and she had nowhere to go to get out of the way, so she plastered herself against the wall. Afraid that any minute Nick would break free and there would be a brawl, she didn’t dare move a muscle until the two men passed her. Only when they’d disappeared down the staircase did she remember to breathe again.
    Charlotte glanced down at the script in her hand. Now what? Should she still take it to Angel?
    Almost as if Angel had read her thoughts, Charlotte heard her yell, “Where is that maid? Get her in here now! And find Max. Tell him to get up here.”
    Within seconds, Heather Cortez appeared in the dressing room doorway. Up until that moment, it had never occurred to Charlotte that there might be someone else in the room during the brawl between Angel and Nick.
    “Oh, Charlotte, there you are, thank goodness,” Heather said as she hurried toward her. “Angel wants to see you.” A momentary look of discomfort crossed her pale face. “But I guess you heard her, huh?”
    When Charlotte nodded, Heather managed a tremulous smile in response, and Charlotte couldn’t help noticing that Heather’s eye didn’t look quite as puffy as it had the day before.
    “I have to find Max,” Heather continued. “He’s the director. I’ll be right back, though.” With that, she brushed past Charlotte and hurried down the stairs.
    Figuring there was only one reason that Angel would ask to see “that maid,” Charlotte took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Finally, squaring her shoulders and reminding herself that Angel was not the devil incarnate, but simply a spoiled brat, she headed for the dressing room doorway.
    When she entered the room, at first Charlotte didn’t notice Angel for the clutter that seemed to cover every inch of the floor. Evidently, the shoes weren’t the only items she’d thrown during her temper tantrum. The room bore no resemblance to how Charlotte had left it the day before and was a total mess. Then she spied Angel. The young woman was half hidden behind a rack of clothes and standing as still as a statue as she stared out of the window.
    Charlotte cleared her throat. “You wanted to see me?”
    At first Angel didn’t respond. When she did finally turn to face Charlotte, her face reflected the ravages of her tantrum. In a clipped, impatient tone, she said, “Clean up this mess, and when Max gets here, tell him I’m in the master bedroom.”
    Charlotte nodded. “Okay. One thing, though. I was told to give you this.” She held out the script. “They said that some changes had been made.”
    Anger flashed in Angel’s eyes. Without a word, and without a thank-you or kiss my butt, she snatched the script from Charlotte and stomped out of the room.
    Seconds later, Charlotte heard a bedroom door down the hallway slam shut. “Brat,” she muttered as she picked her way through the mess on the floor. Once she had most of the clutter put back where it