Running From Fate by Rose Connelly Read Free Book Online Page B

rescheduling isn’t necessary.  I’m already on my way, but I seem to have gotten lost.”
    “ Hmm.  What street are you on?”  
    “I started on a street called Capital Boulevard.  The directions said to come this way, but the road split and now I’m not sure where I am.”
    “Oh, honey, ” Mary groaned. “ I should have said something.  No one take s that road unless they have to.   It even confuses locals. ” 
    Mira heard the sound of a drawer opening and the rustling of paper before Mary came back on the line .
    “I’ve got a map here,” she said.  “ If you’re no longer on Capital y ou need to turn around and head back the way you came.   Take a left at the set of lights directly before the split .  Just after the road turns back into Capital , ” she clarified.   “Y ou should see a gas station at the corner.   Make a right and o ur building is at the very end of the street.  T he boss is on a conference call so you should still make it.”
    “I’ll be there as soon as possible.  Thank you so much.”  Mira disconnected and pulled back into traffic, hopefully in the right direction.
    Ten minutes later she found herself in the parking lot of a low brick building.   It sat at the end of a street, screened from the constant noise of a big city by a thick line of trees .  As she got out of the car and walked toward the building, she noticed that t he roof seemed oddly reflective.  Upon closer examination she realized that it was almost completely covered by solar panels .   Her foot slipped on a loose pebble and she wind- milled her arms to keep from falling.   S he quickly pulled her eyes down and focused on watching where she was going .   With her eyes front, she made it to the doors without any more trouble.
    The spacious lobby that she entered had an earthy, but luxurious feel to it that Mira silently approved of.   It was decorated in shades of brown and green with color provided b y several vibrant landscape painting s on the cream wall s .  The obviously expensive conversation grouping that sat to one side looked like it was made of all natural materials.   The receptionist standing behind a half-moon desk shouted trendy and fashionable.
    Like any self-respecting receptionist — at least the way books and TV portrayed them — sh e was beautiful — tall, blond , and sleek with laser blue eyes and a form- fitting forest green suit that showed of her curvy body.  The blond woman’s perfection made Mira feel slightly dowdy in her own carefully chosen outfit, but she determinedly ignored the feeling and stepped forward.
    The woman looked up as she approached.  “ Good morning,” she said in a well-modulated voice.  “ How can I be of assistance?”
    Mira tilted her chin and looked the tall woman in the eyes. “My name is Mira Anders,” she stated authoritatively.  “ I have an appointment with Mr. Kelly.”
    As if used to a challenging or aggressive attitude from other women, the receptionist smiled kindly and flipped through a bulky appointment book.   “Have a seat,” she said. “ I’ll just call someone to take you back.”
    “Thank you.”  Mira walked over to a rich, brown armchair and sat down, placing her leather portfolio on her lap and crossing her ankles . 
    After s everal minutes a slightly older woman appeared from a long hallway at the back of the lobby .  Her fading black hair flowed freely down her back , almost touching her hips.  S he wore a bright red skirt that flowed around her ankles and a rich blue shirt that looked like something belonging to a fortune teller .  Something told Mira that they would get along famously.
    She laid her bulky folder on the chair and stood up as the woman walked toward her.  “I’m Mira Ander s,” she said, holding out her hand.
    “Mary Beecham.” The older woman grasped her extended hand and shook it heartily .  “ I’m glad you made it.  Mr. Kelly is still on the phone ,” she confided.