Elizabeth Stewart - Harm’s Way

The End.

Well?

The woman let the final page of the manuscript fall shut and looked across her large, glass-topped desk.

Beautiful, she whispered. Just beautiful. She dabbed at her red eyes with the remnants of a wadded tissue, honked once and deposited it in the wastebasket behind her.

Im glad you approve, Sheila, the woman on the other side laughed. I worried about this one.

Im sure, Sheila grinned, tapping the pages in front of her with a perfectly manicured crimson fingernail. You always do, although why is beyond me.

Because Im a writer and were all basically insecure.

Well having published all six of your previous books, I can say without fear of contradiction that this is the best one yet. Youve really outdone yourself, Ellie.

Thanks.

I mean it, she insisted. Not only is Jill a strong heroine and Ted to die for as a hero, but the story itself is so tenderso romantic. The grin got bigger and a malicious gleam appeared in her hazel eyes. Not to mention its so hot I thought Id singe my eyebrows off by the third chapter.

Well, you keep telling me sex sells.

Lord, Ellie, Sheila rolled her eyes, this will fly out of the stores by itself. Well have to print it on asbestos and slap an extremely flammable warning on the cover. Maybe we should give away a certificate for a free gallon of ice water with every purchase.

I think youre getting a little carried away, Elgin joked.

I mean it, El. That part where Jill and Ted are stuck in traffic on the Brooklyn Bridge in that limo and hes giving her oral sex and the cop car pulls up on the passenger sideI thought Id wet my pants, literally. When they sneak away for a quickie while theyre touring that redwood forest with his family and end up in a hollow tree And dont even get me started about the bearskin rug in front of the fireplace at the ski lodge. Trust me, no one who reads this book will ever think of chocolate dipped strawberries and champagne the same way again.

You know Gillian Shelbys readers always expect something out of the ordinary.

Well theyre going to get it, Sheila agreed emphatically, in spades. From the first read, Id say we ought to be able to get this out for the Christmas trade. With A World of Surprise out this summer, itll be a sure double winner.

Which reminds me. Were launching World with all the hype Fantasy Publishing can drum up and then well sit back and wait for all those women on summer vacation to trample themselves getting to the bookstores. In fact, I want to arrange a short book signing tour for you to hit some of the vacation resorts.

Uh-unh, Elgin shook her head. This summer Ive promised myself three full months at the retreat. Rest and recuperate. No television, radio, newspapers, computers or writing. Period.

Youve been saying that since you bought that forest shack, Sheila shot back. And in the three years youve owned it, as far as I know, youve spent exactly four weekends up there. Lets face it, El. Youre a city girl and a writer. Three whole months of fresh air and no e-mail and theyll have to cart you away with a butterfly net.

Fine, she sniffed. But when you cant find me from the first of June to Labor Day, dont bother to look cause you cant find this place unless I give you directions and thats not going to happen.

Just make sure youre around for the re-writes on this one. And give me an outline on your next project, ASAP.

Sheila Forbes, Elgin pretended to grump, you are nothing but a money-grubbing pimp preying on my fragile artistic nature for your own gain. You treat me like a literary vending machine.

And you, Elgin Collier, AKA Gillian Shelby, are a hack, prostituting your God-given gift for words into piles of money. So if Im a pimp, I guess we know what that makes you.

Both women laughed. They had this conversation often, in one form or another.

Well, Ive got to be running along, Elgin said, gathering up her purse and rising. Ive got a hundred things to do still and my e-mails probably backed up to New Jersey by now.

I wish you wouldnt go on-line like you do, Sheila told her seriously. There are an awful lot of weird people running around in cyberspace.

Elgin laughed, reached out and patted her friends arm. I have news for you, Sheila, there are an awful lot of weird people running around in the so-called real world too.

I worry about you.

You worry about Fantasy Publishings biggest asset.

Only asset, Sheila corrected, but thats not the point. You and I have been friends since way before we both started out in this whacko business. I sometimes wonder whos crazieryou for trying to make a living writing, or me for trying to make a living publishing. Id hate for anything to happen to you.

Nothings going to happen to me, Elgin assured her friend. My e-mail is under my pen name and I never go on-line to chat except through the respectable writers boards and only at designated times. After all, one of the reasons readers buy my books is because Ive tried to make Gillian Shelby accessible to them. Made her a friend. Someone they can care about. The Internet has been a big help there. Besides, Im a big girl and I know how to take care of myself.

All right. Im taking your Magnus Opus home with me tonight so I can start hacking away at it with my little blue pencil. I should have the rough cut to you the first of next week.

Good. Give my poor overworked fingers a chance to cool down.

Yeah, well, I have no problem with your fingers cooling down. Just make sure nothing else does.

They laughed again and shared a hug.

At the door, the two women paused and Sheila stared into Elgins face. Promise me youll be careful, she said seriously.

Always. Bye Sheila.

Bye El.

Elgin hated elevators, especially crowded ones like this, packed with eager souls escaping their cubicles for their mid-day hours parole. She didnt have any particularly claustrophobic problems; small places had never bothered her. Something, though, about being in such close contact with other people, strangers, made her uneasy although shed never been able to pinpoint exactly why. Perhaps its very irrationality made it all the more disconcerting.

Stepping in, Elgin instantly found herself crammed backward, finally ending up in the center of the car. Carefully, she raised her briefcase to her chest and pulled her shoulder bag to her front, trying to make room for two burly executive types in matching black power suits. Jostling for position, one of them stepped momentarily on her toe, never glancing at her or offering an apology.

Jerk, she thought disdainfully, I wonder how youd like a three-inch stiletto heel in your expensive Italian loafers? Accidentally, of course.

As the elevator doors closed and the box continued down, something brushed against her ass. Automatically, she moved her body fractionally forward. There were obviously too many people in too little space. She felt a slight pressure then, like a hand laid lightly on the swell of her cheeks. Again, she shifted her position, but this time, the pressure remained.

A moment of surprise morphed into a flicker of anger. Jeez, Louise, she sighed silently. Some guys were absolutely pathetic. I mean, what kind of a loser is reduced to copping a feel from a total stranger in a public elevator?

But before she could turn around and confront anyone, the elevator shivered to a stop, the doors opened and she found herself pushed out into the lobby by a human tide making for the huge glass front doors and freedom.

Just beyond the elevator doors she paused, turning in all directions looking forfor what, she suddenly wondered. Some stereotypical grinning, leering moron in a raincoat?