Wilderness of Mirrors Read Online Free

through the maze until the labels came to light, Sam said, “Some maybe. But you go looking for play dough pliability in rockers and – ” She jabbed at the corner of the elegant, oval sticker but failed to budge it. “How’s a person supposed to catch the edge of these?”
It’s not as though I chew my nails anymore
.
Not since Granddad soaked my hands in vinegar, then dropped dead on his way back to the pantry.
    Jane straightened, her glossy black ponytail perpendicular to her level shoulders. “The hedge is cut?”
    “What’s that supposed to mean?”
    Gesturing to Sam’s hands and enunciating her words with
My Fair Lady
precision, Jane repeated, “The edge of what?”
    “Oh, labels.” Sam attacked again. “I designed new ones to go on our packaging. Gotcha.” She balanced the freed decal on one finger and headed for a nearby carton where she set about trying to center it. The result wasn’t pretty. “God, now the thing’s gone and plastered itself askew. And there’s a fucking crease to boot.”
    Jane examined the wrinkle.
    The scent of Jo Malone was overwhelming.
    Sam tipped her chin so they were face to face. “You’re a space invader.”
    “And you’re deaf as a doornail, not to mention ridiculous. Who’s going to see these when we deliver them? Hmmm? The maids.” Jane smirked when Sam growled. “Temper, temper,” she tutted, “Once they’re hung, these’ll be whisked straight to the bin. And if we’re truly lucky,” she carried on like a mad pixie, “they’ll go to attic heaven where they’ll gather dust. Lady Kate will never even see them.”
    “Oh, just stop.” The crease, dust-laden or not, would cause Sam sleepless nights. Precision had always been a real part of her. And in the last decade, it had done wonders for her work with ‘Acquisitions Group’, the shadowy organization to which she had become inescapably tied. Her jobs were charted out to the minutest detail, and if she hadn’t been so sickened by the whys and wherefores, she might have taken pride in their execution. “Where’s my pen? It’s got a flat tipped cap.”
    Sam’s hair tumbled loose when Jane snatched it. “Right where you always leave it.” But Jane’s smile was quick to vanish.
Maybe she knows I’m finally going to kill her.
“What is
that
?” Jane reached past Sam and hoisted a handful of silver and blue into view. “There’s a stain on them!”
    For a brief age, Sam panicked too. Then the black swirl took on a familiar form. She brushed the knot away. “No, it’s dog fur.” The Thai silk winked back. Pristine. Jewel-like. Jane was quite definitely a master of her trade.
    A grim line of lips colored Bobbi Brown Red cleaved her friend’s Eurasian features. “I wish he didn’t shed so much. I found one in my latte this morning, and its cover was still on.”
    They both turned. Tam, unaffected by the evening’s chaos, lay motionless beneath a sprawling draftsman desk. There was an unmistakable gleam of defiance in his chocolate eyes. Sam pointed her pen at him. “Here’s your chance, Auntie Jane.
Mold
him.”
    Jane resorted to a regal pose and tucked the edges of the box nearest her under one another. “At least I try. You scan men like catalogs. You don’t even bother to read the articles. And you make ridiculous excuses so you can be alone despite the fact you’re miserable. Honestly, I’ll never understand you.”
    Sam worked at the sticker’s crease until satisfaction was hers. “That’s because, like catalogs, men don’t have articles. Just captions.” The deceit came easily. “You confuse them with books, when the latter are far more interesting and don’t snore.”
    Jane sealed the next carton. “Have it your way. Only what was wrong with Brad’s caption?”
    Oh, for fuck’s sake, drop it
.
Perfect snaps, Janie. Snaps to bits of nothing under very little pressure.
But she clamped down on her annoyance and tried for indifference, thinking back to the first time