PERKS OF THE POSITION
Veronica had just stepped onto the landing.
If her white pantsuit during the Swiss audit had been an act of war, tonight was an unconditional execution. She was wearing a backless, floor-length gown of black silk that clung to her curves like liquid midnight, a daring, plunging neckline framing her smooth skin. And resting perfectly against her collarbone was the emerald necklace I had given her. The deep green stones caught the shifting light of the conservatory’s chandeliers, looking like beautiful, glittering venom resting against her throat. Her dark hair was swept up, her signature blood-red lipstick a sharp, violent slash against her pale face.
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