Practice to Deceive Read Online Free

the guy. I doubt she ever spoke to him beyond, “Ms. Grey will be with you in a moment if you care to take a seat.” But clients getting killed is bad for business, especially if they haven’t settled their accounts first, and she is opposed to anything even remotely bad for business. Besides, she is the keeper of Cynthia’s schedule. Part of her job is making sure every court appearance, every deposition, every meeting, happens when it’s supposed to happen, and whenever I come around, usually unannounced, well, there goes the schedule.
    Yet despite her animosity toward me, she seemed genuinely thrilled when I walked into the office suite, like I was a high school pal she hadn’t seen since the last reunion.
    “Taylor!” she cried, coming to the door, wrapping her arms around me, hugging me to the very marrow of my soul. “It’s good to see you,” she announced. Her eyes were moist and blazing with light, her smile was bright enough to read by. Scared the hell out of me.
    “What’s going on?” I asked, my hand moving instinctively to my right hip where my gun would have been if I had been carrying it.
    “Same old same old,” she sang back. “How are you?”
    I set my suitcase on the floor; I had come straight from the airport by cab. “Same old same old,” I said.
    “How was Florida? Sunny?” The woman was practically giddy.
    “That’s why they call it the Sunshine State,” I replied.
    “I bet you’re here to see the lovely Miss Cynthia. I’ll buzz her,” she said and fairly skipped to her desk. She picked up the telephone receiver, punched two numbers, waited, and said, “Hey, Cynthia, guess what. Taylor is here.… I sure will.” She replaced the receiver. “Go right in,” she said, waving toward the door. I walked slowly to the door, never taking my eyes off of her.
    “What’s with Miss Efficiency?” I asked when I was safely inside Cynthia’s office. “She high on some new designer drug?”
    “No,” Cynthia said, “just the usual thing: money.” Cynthia’s smile was dazzling. If you could read by Miss Efficiency’s newfound smile, you could signal ships at sea with Cynthia’s. I leaned in, turning my head to peck her cheek. But she met my lips with hers and kissed me long and hard. There was no hunger in her kiss, only a deep affection that often frightened me.
    She broke the kiss. “Good to see you,” she said.
    “Good to see you. What money?”
    Cynthia seemed puzzled.
    “You said Miss Efficiency was high on money,” I added.
    “She has a name, you know. Desirée.”
    “I had a home economics teacher named Desirée.”
    “You took home economics?”
    “It’s a long story.”
    “I bet.”
    “What money?”
    “I gave her a bonus this morning.”
    “Must have been some bonus.”
    “Twenty-five thousand dollars,” Cynthia said casually, circling her desk.
    “Say what?” I was genuinely amazed.
    “It’s no big thing.”
    “Apparently Desirée disagrees.”
    “Apparently so do you,” she said, settling into her chair. “You’ve received twenty-five thousand dollar bonuses before. I read about it in the paper. That company you helped, August-Crane.”
    “I helped save August-Crane from a hostile takeover.”
    “Yes, well …”
    “How much money did you make on this case, anyway?” I asked, sitting in the large wing chair in front of Cynthia’s desk.
    Cynthia smiled some more, looked down at the desk blotter, and drew a little circle with her fingernail. “Twenty-seven percent,” she said softly.
    “Twenty-seven percent of what?”
    “Sealed,” she replied, shaking her head.
    “Does Desirée know the amount?”
    “She keeps the books.”
    “Desirée!” I shouted. The door to Cynthia’s office opened a moment later, and Desirée peeked in. “How much did Cynthia—and you—make on the sexual harassment settlement?”
    Desirée glanced up at Cynthia and smiled. “Twenty-seven percent,” she said.
    “Fine, fine, fine,” I repeated, admitting