Page 144 of The Virgin Romance Novelist Chronicles
“No,” I responded, looking around for anyone other than Susan to talk to. I loved the lady, but sometimes she could blow situations out of proportion.
“Oh, I told that old coot you couldn’t have this many cats in the office and not have the office cleaned nightly. Serves her right.”
Had anyone else arrived yet? The drapes made it next to impossible to see anything. “Where is everyone? Where’s Gladys?”
“Dead.”
“What?” I called out. “Gladys is dead?” I felt ill.
Susan waved her hands in front of face, fending off her tears. “Not yet, but she will be when the office manager finds out the price it will cost to clean out all the air ducts in the building.”
I gripped my chest and took a deep breath, sighing with relief. “Jesus, Susan, you can’t say people have died when they really haven’t.”
“I didn’t say that,” Susan countered, lying to my face.
“Yes, you did. You said Gladys was dead.”
“Metaphorically, dear. Honestly, read the tone.”
Huffing and not wanting to fight with her any more, I asked, “Is Gladys here?”
Waving toward Gladys’s office, Susan responded with exasperation. “She’s out there.”
Blowing past the plastic drapes, I found my way to Gladys’s office, tripping over tubes, pipes, brooms, and cords the entire way.
“Gladys?” I called out, not really able to see much. I pushed past obstructions as dust floated from the ceiling onto my freshly lint-rolled pants. Perfect. “Gladys, are you in there?”
“Rosie, is that you?”
“Yes, where are you?” I coughed from the dust, trying to push past the drapes, using Gladys’s voice as a guide.
“Under my desk.” Her voice was weak.Was she crying?
I placed my purse on a chair and crawled on the floor until I found Gladys tucked under her desk, rocking back and forth, holding a stuffed cat to her chest.
“Gladys, what’s going on?”
She looked up at me, and just as I had guessed, she had tears streaming down her face. “They took them all.”
“Who took what all?” I asked, not making much sense to my own ears.
“The landlord, he took all the cats.” An ear-piercing screech escaped her lips, sending chills down my spine. “They’re gone, Rosie. They’re all gone.”
The cats were gone.Yessss.I couldn’t help the small shot of glee that shot through my body at the announcement of no more cats. No more furballs in my soup. No more puke piles on my desk. No more stealing letters from my keyboard. No more death stares from the hallway.
AND NO MORE SIR LICKS-A-LOT!!
Mentally, I did a happy dance, trying not to show Gladys how excited I was about this new information. Instead, I put on a somber look and patted Gladys on the shoulder.
“I’m so sorry to hear that; I know how much those cats meant to you.”
“You should have seen it, Rosie. What a disaster it all was. The incessant crying of the cats. My heart could barely handle it. Animal Control came in here and took all the cats, every single one of them. I didn’t even get to say goodbye.”
“Me either,” I sighed, pleased with my acting skills. “I’ll miss those furballs. If I could, I would have taken them all home.”
It was never a bad idea to suck up to your boss, to feel what they were feeling. Brownie points were always warranted in the workplace.
“You would have?” Gladys asked, hope and appreciation in her eyes.
