Unleashing the Receptionist: ...the Receptionist, Book 3 by Juniper Bell Page A

stopped by my desk, asking why Standish wasn’t in the file room, I crossed my fingers under the desk and said he had to skip out for a dentist appointment. He gave me a long, probing dose of Blue Fury. I stood up to it. Everything I was doing was for the sake of Cowell & Dirk. He’d just have to trust me.
    It was harder when Simon stopped by. Maybe because Simon had trained me, or maybe because of the love I had for him, whatever the reason, I hated misleading him.
    “Standish is running some errands,” I told Simon, even though he hadn’t asked, guilt written all over my face.
    “Fine.” He gave me a mild glance. “What’s the matter?”
    “Nothing.”
    “I know my Dana. Something’s bothering you.”
    “Simon.” I stood up, feeling his moss-green gaze follow every movement. “You know I love this firm and would do anything in my power for it.”
    He raised one eyebrow.
    “And I love you. I would never hurt you.”
    “Dana.” He planted his hands on the desk and leaned toward me. “Likewise. Now stop worrying.”
    I let out a sigh and sank back into my seat. “Yes, sir.”
    “Ethan and I will be at a meeting until later this afternoon. Hold down the fort, okay?”
    “You got it.”
    As soon as he’d gone, shrugging on his jacket as he disappeared down the hall, I scurried to the men’s room.
    “What did she say?”
    “Says she’ll meet me at the Great Wok in half an hour.”
    “Perfect.”
    I ran back to my desk and took a video camera from the bottom drawer. Small, handheld, but powerful, it would be perfect. I handed it to him and showed him how it worked. I went into Simon’s office and found a jacket, tie, and a deer hunter hat that would hide most of Standish’s face.
    “Get dressed in these, she’ll never recognize you. Can you manage without glasses?”
    “I brought my contacts.”
    I screwed my face up, remembering how awkward he’d been with those contacts the first day I’d met him.
    “I’ll be fine,” he said. “I’ve been practicing at home. I’ve gotten it down to twenty blinks a minute.”
    “Okay, fine, put your contacts on, then go find a spot in the restaurant, like in the corner or something. Just set the video camera on the table. Don’t be obvious about it. Hide it behind a drink or something. Then when she gets there, just nudge the camera so it points our way.”
    Standish rubbed the back of his neck, looking rueful. “First I was impersonating the IRS, now I’m impersonating the FBI.”
    “You want to back out?”
    “Nah. We made a deal. I never back out of deals. Besides, I have a thing for video, you know.”
    I snickered. We shared a moment of amusement at the irony. Once again, I thought how much I liked Peter Standish. When I thought of how Margo had tried to manipulate him, my blood boiled.
    That woman had a big dose of revenge coming her way.

Chapter Nine
    At the Great Wok of China, I spotted Belinda collecting orders to deliver. I waved and watched her perk up with excitement. I shrugged an apology—no, I wasn’t there with an invitation from Ethan. I ordered a coffee and hot and sour soup, then picked a table with a view of the door. I spotted Standish in the corner, hiding behind his deer hunter hat. He’d done just as I said. The camera was sitting casually next to his elbow. He should be able to get a good shot. If not, I had my own backup in place.
    As I was stirring cream into my coffee, Margo walked in as if she owned the entire state of New York—if not the whole planet. She wore a power suit in rust, black high-heeled boots, and she carried a patent leather briefcase over her shoulder. She wasn’t the type of person you usually saw in Low-Life. Manhattan was her turf. I could picture her slitting a competitor’s throat over brunch at Nobu, or gutting some poor employee right before her manicure at the Estee Lauder salon.
    So what if I didn’t have her background or success? I wasn’t here to compare penthouse apartments or