High Heels and Holidays by Kasey Michaels Read Free Book Online Page B

puffed rice into the bowl.”
    â€œOh, all right,” Bernie said, flinging the pillows to the floor and then reaching into her bag and pulling out her cell phone. “Wow, nine missed calls, and all from our tragedy queen. Persistent, isn’t she? I may have to go to the Hamptons for the weekend and leave my cell phone at home.”
    â€œAgain, I’m missing something, aren’t I? But, being a gentleman, I won’t pry,” Alex said, returning to the desk chair. He hit the return button on Maggie’s computer keyboard so that the computer woke up, and then opened her search engine, typing in Francis Oaks . “ Oaks as in grand old oak tree, or with an E ?”
    â€œWith an E . And he’s off! You had to tell him, didn’t you?” Maggie complained to Bernie through clenched teeth.
    Bernie shrugged. “Really, Mags. How long do you think a sophisticated New Yorker like myself could be fascinated with choosing gifts for snakes and killers? Especially sober. Besides, knowing Alex, he’ll get us more information on Francis than Steve will give us.”
    â€œTrue. I hate to admit it, but true. Alex? Find anything?”
    â€œI’m looking at Amazon.com at the moment, Maggie, which is where Google led me. You didn’t tell me Oakes was a writer,” Alex said, his back to the women as he punched keys. “Four books, all of them out of print. And all of them published by Toland Books, the most recent one six years ago. This is an intriguing title, The Axeman Cometh . Ah, here’s one of those reader reviews you abhor, Maggie. Couldn’t finish it. Well, that’s pithy. The mind boggles at the audacity, however, that Bookluver—that’s l-u-v-e-r—from Phoenix believes his or her opinion to be definitive.”
    â€œWhy shouldn’t Bookluver think that? Everybody’s reviewing books these days,” Maggie said, wrapping the soggy pinecone in the tissue Bernie had handed her. “And the supposed pros aren’t much better. Bernie? Remember that one review on my last book? Dooley writes with a sort of accidental panache ? Now I ask you, what the hell is accidental panache ? I can’t do panache unless it’s by accident? How does the guy know it was an accident? Maybe I planned that accident. Maybe it was on purpose panache. Does the guy even know what he’s saying, or is he just pulling words out of his—head,” she said after a slight hesitation during which she remembered Alex was still in the room, “thinking he’s impressing people? You know, in my next book, I think I’m going to have to do a riff on critics. Maybe something lousy one of them said about Jane Austen, or something. I’ll say the critic believes she employed accidental panache.”
    â€œCareful, Maggie,” Bernie warned. “You know what they say—never piss off a critic.”
    â€œWrong, Bernie. Never piss off a writer. More people read us. I mean, come on, Bernie. Accidental panache?”
    â€œThere’s a second definition of panache , you know, Maggie,” Bernie said, winking at Alex. “The first is, of course, dash, verve. But the second is a bunch of feathers or a plume, especially on a helmet. So maybe the reviewer believes you got a bunch of feathers in your hair without intending to do it?”
    â€œYou’re such a help,” Maggie grumbled, and then looked at Alex. “Anything else? Or am I going to spend the next hour wondering if I can stick some accidental plumes into my next book?”
    â€œUmmm,” Alex said, heading back to Google. “I took a moment to read that accidental panache quote on Amazon, and discovered a new reader review. It would appear that Barb-Four-Books believes, and I quote, ‘Saint Just can park his high-topped Hessian boots under my bed any time.’” He swiveled around on the chair and grinned at her. “Imagine