Free Sweet Karoline by Catherine Astolfo

had no inkling that I should not. "Remember I told you about that project, The Silver Fox?"
    " The screenwriter who's a prick and the story that sucks but somehow Joseph loves?"
    " The very one. Parris and I have been putting together a plan for handling him. The screenwriter that is. I think it just might work."
    " She sounds rather manipulative."
    I looked up in surprise at the criticism, but Karoline's eyes were on the car in front of us.
    " I don't think so," I said, making it a definitive statement with my tone. "Diplomatic maybe. I know we have to be somewhat controlling, I guess, but only for the sake of the film. We simply have to get it up and running, even if we have to do end-runs on the writers."
    " We? Isn't she just your assistant?"
    I was silenced at the strength of dislike in Karoline's voice.
    " I like her," I said finally.
    Karoline gave me her beady stare.
    The following week I decided I should introduce Parris to Karoline. Maybe they would hit it off. I knew there was an underlying aversion to my assistant from my best friend's corner, but once they met in person I was certain Karoline's reservations would disappear.
    She was just looking after my interests, I knew. She probably thought Parris was overly ambitious, trying to move in on my position. I had to prove to Karoline that such was not the case. Parris is lively, bright and down-to-earth. Surely no one could dislike her for long. Maybe she'd be our new third.
    At the last minute, as we were setting up for a dinner party with the usual suspects, I told Karoline that Parris was coming, too.
    " Joseph and Vicki are going to bring her with them," I said. "She lives near their building."
    Karoline continued folding the napkins. She loved real cloth napkins. We had collected a dozen or so from different countries, so the table was always colorful and eclectic.
    " Okay. Seven napkins then. Seven plates. Seven dwarves."
    " You'll like her, Karoline. She's really not trying to replace me at work, you know. In fact the place is expanding so much that we'll probably have lots of room for Exec Assistants. Vicki will soon need one of her own, instead of splitting me with…"
    Karoline laughed. "Sweetie, I never thought she was going to try and take your place."
    " Oh." I was stunned at the mocking tone, the way Karoline tossed her head as though I were a complete idiot. "But…why don't you like her then?"
    " Who said I don't like her? You think I'm jealous or something?"
    I stared at Karoline, confused, but she was too busy getting plates out of the cupboard to look at me. "Of course not."
    " Then stop sneaking around having lunch with her and inviting her over for dinner without telling me."
    Stunned, I couldn't find any words to describe the odd feeling in my stomach. Karoline never talked to me like that.
    She turned around and smiled at me.
    " I can't wait to hear what Daniel has to say about the new tax regulation the city just passed. He's going apoplectic. You watch. He'll be the first to arrive, full of piss and vinegar. C'mon, don't just stand there, let's get this shindig on the road, girlfriend."
    True to her prediction, Daniel was not only first at the door but he was also rambling from the start about the controversial city regulation, none of which I understood. He arrived with his wife in a colorful flourish, brandishing a huge bunch of orange and yellow flowers, two bottles of wine, one red, one white, a checkered shirt and pink cheeks.
    Daniel Stewart is not a stereotype for a lawyer. He's thin, very short, freckle-faced and has unruly brown hair that often sticks up in a cowlick. He looks young from afar, but up close you can see the lines around his eyes and the furrows of his oft-frowning forehead. He's extremely wealthy and often sent Karoline out to art auctions on his behalf. He's very fond of the artist CoJon, the one whose mysterious past is almost as famous as his colorful swashes that form themselves into ethereal scenery. Our CoJon