Venus in Blue Jeans by Meg Benjamin Read Free Book Online

was absolutely certain the Hollywood stars who toted their Chihuahuas around in carriers didn’t have to put up with this kind of insubordination.
    Fortunately, Arthur Craven, the president of the association, was standing next to the reception desk when Margaret opened the door. She had a feeling he’d have hidden in his office if he’d known she was coming up the walk. Arthur hated conflict, and Margaret was about to drop a very large load of conflict into his lap.
    “Margaret.” Arthur smoothed back his thinning gray hair. “What can I do for you?”
    “I wanted to find out what happened with the wine and cheese question.” Margaret gave him her most innocent look, widening her eyes slightly and turning up the corners of her mouth in the faintest of smiles. It always had a calming effect on recalcitrant males, and Arthur was definitely in that category.
    Arthur sighed, scratching his bald spot. “I don’t have much more to tell you, Margaret. We’ve looked into it of course…”
    “Well, I know you have, Arthur.” Margaret touched his arm, lightly, modulating her expression into Concerned Sympathy—wide eyes but serious mouth. “Perhaps we could go into your office to discuss it.”
    From the corner of her eye, Margaret saw the receptionist, Midge Torres, roll her eyes. Probably a friend of Allie Maldonado, one of Docia Kent’s supporters. What did she expect? Flashy people always attracted a certain element.
    Margaret tightened her hold on Arthur’s arm, just enough to let him know that she wouldn’t be letting go any time soon.
    Arthur’s mouth turned down slightly. “All right. I think I’ve got a little time.”
    “Don’t forget your ten o’clock,” Midge piped in behind him.
    Arthur’s smile broadened noticeably. “Right. My ten o’clock. We’ll be done by then.” He turned and opened the door so that Margaret could walk in, narrowing his eyes at Señor Pepe’s woeful expression.
    “Now, as I said, Margaret, we did look into the question of…well…statute violations.” Arthur waved her into the chair in front of his desk.
    “Selling liquor without a license.” Margaret raised her chin to battle status. “That’s what she’s going to do.”
    “No, no. It’s a benefit for the library. Music and dancing and a poetry reading as I understand it. The wine and cheese are the refreshments.”
    “But people have to pay to get in.” Margaret’s lips thinned. “It’s not a party. It’s a paid event.”
    “They’re buying tickets to the benefit, just like you’d buy a ticket to a charity banquet where they served wine.” Arthur spread his hands, leaning forward. “All the proceeds go to the library fund. We did have Hank Mossburg look into it…”
    “Hank Mossburg is the attorney for the Kramer County Winemakers Association.” Margaret’s throat felt tight. “He wouldn’t be concerned about liquor violations.”
    She didn’t even bother trying to look innocent anymore. Clearly, no one was on her side in this. If it was up to them, Docia Kent was going to win. Damn her anyway.
    Arthur dropped his gaze to the desk in front of him, then looked back up again. “Hank knows his job. I know Docia Kent hasn’t been a member of the association for long…”
    “A year,” Margaret snapped. “Less than that, really.”
    Arthur took a breath, then shrugged. “Yes, well, she’s volunteered to do this. It’s another event for the festival, potentially good publicity for us all. The other members of the association I’ve spoken with all seem to be in favor of it. I appreciate your feelings, Margaret, but…”
    Margaret bit her lip, trying to keep herself from saying anything unladylike. Tears of rage gathered against her eyelashes. This was almost as bad as the time the principal had refused to undertake a recount in the student council vice president election. Margaret knew she would have won then too.
    Life was just not fair.
    Arthur leaned forward, his brow furrowing.