At Wit's End Read Online Free

relief and satisfaction.

Chapter 2
     
    Marie checked the time and decided the bedroom could wait. She turned the vacuum off and shoved it into the closet. A timer went off in the kitchen and s he hurried in to take the canapés out of the oven. She had an appointment with Susan Collins about catering a dinner party. The woman’s in-laws were coming into town and she desperately wanted to wow them. Seeing as she couldn’t cook worth a damn, she did the right thing and contacted Marie.
    Marie had prepared a varied selection of appetizers so Susan could sample some of what she had to offer. With a quick peek she decided they needed just a tad longer in the oven. She reset the timer and, once again, cursed Michael to perdition.
    Week one after receiving her loan was supposed to be spent moving the company into the new digs, not scrambling to impress a client in the hopes they’d write her a deposit check so she could cover rent and a few standard groceries. Her stomach twisted and Marie wondered if she was developing an ulcer. She shook it off and forced herself to concentrate on the task at hand. Planning Michael’s demise was something best done in the ridiculous amount of free time she now had on her hands and not when she was trying to keep an upbeat mood for a consultation.
    Mumbling about the many different ways a man could be castrated, she went around the room and lit the candles she had set around the apartment. She liked their look and scent and knew it wouldn’t alter the aromas or tastes of the dishes she had prepared. She hit switches and gave the living room mood lighting. She plugged her iPod into the stereo and selected “Susan’s Mix”, something she had compiled with Susan’s party specifically in mind. Light classical music began playing through the apartment and she was glad she’d gone with the surround sound.
    Marie firmly believed catering parties wasn’t just about the food. Everything should be taken into account and planned out accordingly. She liked to have candles or other special lighting set up with well-planned music all with the aim of perfect ambiance. This evening was her opportunity to give Susan a taste of it. Hopefully she’d be impressed enough to write out a check.
    The timer went off and she went back to the kitchen. Everything looked perfect and she turned down the temperature on the oven and propped the door open slightly. Susan would be here any minute and she wanted to make sure what should be hot would be.
    The bottle of Riesling in the refrigerator taunted her slightly. If she’d had time she wo uld have opened the bottle and sampled it before Susan arrived. Unfortunately the timing hadn’t worked out that way and, upon reflection, she didn’t want Susan seeing an already open bottle with some gone. That wouldn’t set the right impression.
    Which reminded her to grab the wine glasses from the top cabinet and check them for spots. The dishwasher in this apartment was abysmal and she didn’t always remember to check before putting them away. With a small sigh she quickly ran hot water and let the steam build in the glasses. She used a lint free towel to wipe away the spots and considered it perfect.
    Another check of the time and she knew Susan was running late. She huffed out a small breath, checked the appetizers once more and went to her laptop. If she loaded her email she knew the door would buzz . It was the usual way of things.
    She scrolled through the multitude of messages that had come in since she had last checked this morning. She had no desire to purchase Viagra through a Canadian pharmacy and, really, did she seem like the type of person who needed or wanted to meet hot and barely legal girls online? Marie certainly didn’t think so. Most of the messages were spam and, with barely a thought, she deleted the entire page’s worth.
    Briefly she wondered if she’d hear from the guy Robert had told her about. Somehow she doubt ed it. Besides, what could be