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“But that may not be enough time.” Now he sounded panicky. “What if I can’t find someone right away?”
“In that case, I guess you’ll just have to use a temp.”
“A temp? Are you crazy?”
Now it was her turn to stare at him.
Finally he said, “Okay. Okay. Call the agency. And be sure to tell them it’s urgent. Christ, this is the worst possible time of year for you to do this to me.”
Ignoring his grumbling, she said, “What shall I tell the agency about salary?”
He named a figure a good ten percent higher than he was currently paying her. She figured he did it just to piss her off. But she decided not to give him the satisfaction. “I’ll call them right now.”
Half an hour later, she was in the midst of relaying to Chick what the agency had had to say when her cell phone rang. Seeing Barlow International on the caller ID, she said, “Excuse me, Chick. I have to take this call.”
“Miss Spinelli?” the caller said. “This is Judith Holmes. I’m Mr. Barlow’s assistant. He asked me to tell you he has your contract ready and wondered if you could meet him at the gallery sometime this afternoon.”
“The only time I could come would be after work. But I quit at four on Fridays, so I could be there by five o’clock.” The gallery stayed open until six on weeknights.
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