Dying to Get Published by Judy Fitzwater Read Free Book Online Page A

Jennifer offered.
    "Oh, no. I couldn't ask you to do that, sweetie."
    "Really, it's no bother, and I'm not on any kind of time schedule."
    "That would be lovely, child. It's just a few feet away in that big building in the middle of the block—the one with all the glass and gold, the one with the big potted plants out front."
     
     
     
    Chapter 10
     
    If Emmie Walker needed a cane, it was to knock people out of her path. She led the way to O'Hara's Tara, introduced a shy Jennifer as her niece to the doorman, and escorted her to the twelfth floor in a gleaming bronzed elevator.
    "And what is your name, dear?" Mrs. Walker asked, briskly opening the door and ushering Jennifer into the parquet foyer of the plush condominium.
    A name? She had to come up with a name? Wasn't it enough that she'd donned this ridiculous costume complete with faux pregnancy? She should have realized someone would demand at least a name, even if she'd been able to talk her way out of showing proper identification.
    Jennifer stared at the back of the little woman's head. A few dark strands mixed in with the thin, silver-white curls, and all she could think of was Sophia on The Golden Girls , Sophia who was much more spry than she sometimes let on and who could easily walk the distance from the coffee shop to her building without so much as a pause to catch her breath.
    "Sophia," Jennifer said, following the old lady into the living room. The white carpet was so thick, she felt like she was standing on shifting sand.
    "Sophia what?"
    "Sophia… Sophia McClannahan." She seemed to have a Golden Girls theme going.
    "That's an interesting name, dear. Are you Italian on your mother's side? All that thick, dark hair, I should have guessed."
    "That sounds good," Jennifer agreed.
    A low rumble emitted from Mrs. Walker's purse. She opened it and let the creature out.
    Now that Jennifer could see the beast in its entirety, it looked like a mutated Chihuahua. It flew at her feet and fiercely attached itself to the toe of her shoe.
    "He loves leather. He's chewed up everything I have, I'm afraid."
    "Maybe it's a mineral deficiency—something left by the tanning process," Jennifer suggested, trying to shake the animal off her foot without seeming too obvious.
    "Would you like something to drink?" Mrs. Walker offered. "Perhaps a ginger ale? I don't think there's anything in ginger ale that would threaten our little one."
    When had Jennifer's towel become "our little one"? But then Mrs. Walker was apparently into adoptions. Jennifer would have to see if she could work that generosity to her advantage.
    "Ginger ale would be wonderful." If she could just get the woman out of the living room, she could get that growling demon off of her shoe.
    "You sit down. I'll be right back."
    As soon as Mrs. Walker was out of sight, Jennifer pulled the monster from her toe and flattened its snarling carcass against the floor. She knew how to train dogs, and, assuming Tiger was one, she felt it imperative to establish dominance right away. "Consider me an alpha wolf," she warned the squirming mass. "My territory includes my body, shoes, and clothing. You can have everything else as long as you don't mess with me. Got that?"
    Tiger gurgled in Jennifer's paralyzing grip. She took that gurgle as acquiescence and let the critter loose. It scampered away to cower under a game table in the far corner of the room.
    Mrs. Walker returned carrying a small tray with two crystal, on-the-rocks glasses sporting a bubbling, champagne-colored liquid. "Mr. Walker did so love ginger ale. I keep it around to remember him by." She sighed and sat down next to Jennifer on the brocade sofa.
    "I'm sorry. How long has Mr. Walker been gone?"
    "A good ten years, I'm afraid."
    Jennifer sipped the liquid. "I'm sure you miss him," she added.
    "Only when he's late with the alimony check. That teeny-bopper blonde he ran off with—" Mrs. Walker let out a devilish chuckle—"she didn't know what she was in for."