Page 71 of Fraud
“Yes, it was in with some of the film stuff. Like I said, I meant to go over everything in detail, but—anyway, lesson for the future, don’t mix business with alcohol. And dancing.”
“I seem to remember you were the one dancing,” I said.
“Focus!” she yelled.
My eyes widened, unused to hearing her so on edge.
“Okay, okay. What’s the big deal? I’ll do it,” I said, wisely choosing my words, knowing Amy was probably hanging on my every word.
“That isn’t the issue. I figured you would. I know you love your readers. The issue is, your publisher decided to send the books to you. All of them. One thousand copies. I’d stipulated in the paperwork that they be shipped to me, but somehow, it got all mixed up.”
“Okay,” I said, still not understanding.
It wasn’t like they were being delivered in clear wrapping. Or addressed toLaura Stone—Otherwise Known as Your Friendly Next-Door Neighbor Katelyn O’Malley.
“The issue is, the publisher puts the name of the book on the side of every box. You’re about to receive something like fifty boxes ofScandal. To your home address. Today. When you’re not there to receive them, where do the packages go?”
A lightbulb went on in my head.
“To the front lobby,” I said, panic suddenly stirring in my veins. “Where everyone can see them.”
“Exactly. I need you to get home, Kate. I need you to be there to take those packages; otherwise, everyone in your building is going to be wondering why you have such an unhealthy obsession with Laura Stone.”
“I can’t,” I said, my voice reaching a new squeaky tone. “I’m slammed all day. Back-to-back meetings, starting in”—I looked at my watch— “ten minutes!”
“Shit. Okay. Is there anyone you can trust? Anyone. Because, as much as I’d love to, I don’t think there is any way I can make it out to Oregon in the next ten minutes. Unless teleportation has been invented without me knowing?”
I bit my lip, indecision on my mind.
What did I do?
Call in sick?
Tell my boss?
Suddenly, Amy came into view.
“I might have a solution. I’ll call you back.”
I hit End on my phone and turned as Amy came forward, a stack of papers in her hand.
“That’s the last of them. Is there anything else you need?”
“Actually, yes. It’s a little bit of an odd request.”
She eyed me, confusion painted across her young face. “Okay…”
“But, first, I have to ask you. Are you willing to join my super-secret circle of trust?”
“Oh my God.”
“You’ve already said that, Amy,” I said as we sat in my living room, surrounded by piles and piles of boxes.
“Oh my God.”
“You’re eventually going to say something else, right? It’s not like a broken-record thing where you’re constantly going to be repeating the same phrase for life? Because I would feel bad. You’re a bright young woman.”
“I just can’t believe it. You’re Laura Stone.TheLaura Stone.”
