Free Honeymoon for One by Chris Keniston Page B

tab on the keyboard. Art department was next. He wouldn’t think about advertising sales. About Michelle's job. Cutting Michelle's job. Not yet.
     
     

CHAPTER ELEVEN
     
     
    “You look like hell.” Pam dropped a hip on the corner of Michelle’s desk.
    “Gee, thanks. You look lovely yourself.”
    “Seriously. Anyone would think you were the assistant being run ragged the last couple weeks. You still not sleeping?”
    “Who said I’m not sleeping?”
    “The black rings under your eyes.” Pam shrugged. “Corrie might have said something. I ran into her as she was leaving. You really should consider loosening the reins a little. She’s got to learn to spread her wings a bit sometime. You hold on too tight and those wings are going to snap.”
    “You mean more all-night parties at boys’ houses?”
    “Doesn’t count if the parents are home. I know Kathy Webb. The woman has had a stick up her you-know-what since before you were born. Those kids would have been sorely disappointed if they expected any hanky-panky.”
    “Yeah, well, an ounce of prevention.”
    “Could kill the cat.”
    “That’s curiosity.”
    “Whatever. I’m just saying you might want to take it a little easy on your sister. Let her ride with her friends instead of the school bus. Give her a chance to have some fun. Then take some of that advice for yourself.”
    “Don’t ride the school bus?”
    “Have some fun. Take all that’s happened to you as a sign. You should learn to live a little.”
    A sign. Free as a bird . The thought sprang to mind at the same moment her left hand closed tightly over the golden bird hanging from her other wrist. She’d had her fun.
    Pam pushed to her feet. “You’re not listening, are you?”
    Michelle smiled. Yeah she was listening, but that didn’t mean she was going to do anything about it.
    “Okay. I give up. For now. But there’s a lot to be said for a good roll in the hay.”
    “Pam,” Lloyd McEntire called from his door. “Where the hell have you been hiding?”
    “Gotta run. The captain calls.” Pam took off across the way at a fast shuffle. That woman could manage to put a feminine sway into an Olympic sprint.
    Two minutes later Pam scurried out of Mr. McEntire’s office and hurried up to Michelle’s desk. “He just discovered Mr. Harrison’s policy of noncancellation, cross-referenced it with the local advertisers. He wants to see you in his office yesterday.”
    “Why me? I have nothing to do with circulation.”
    “He didn’t say, and I didn’t ask. But you’d better go before he starts breathing fire and burns down the building.”
    Michelle took a deep breath and strode up to the large wooden door. After a quick knock, she turned the knob and poked her head inside. “You wanted to see me.”
    He waved her in. “Starting now there will be complete interdepartmental communication.”
    “Yes, sir.” Michelle nodded and felt her stomach slip to her feet. Now what?
    “I have walked into some pretty sloppy operations in my time, but this place takes the cake. No newspaper in the country continues to deliver papers to people who have expired subscriptions.”
    After a few seconds she realized he was waiting for her to respond. “Uhm, Mr. FitzGibbons, the previous owner, and Mr. Harrison felt it a gesture of goodwill to continue delivery until the subscriber renewed.”
    “What planet did these men live on? Why renew if you can get the paper for free? Never mind the problems this creates with the circulation audit.”
    “Yes, well—”
    “And your department. A new contract from a delinquent customer isn’t worth the paper it’s written on. Belinda’s Bakery has been advertising in the Wednesday circular for...” He flipped through some pages on his desk.
    “About fifteen years. Since before I came to work at the Tribune .”
    “They haven’t paid for over eighteen months!”
    “I’m aware of a few problems. Her husband broke his leg two years ago. It healed