She loved her job as the personal assistant to the owner and CEO of Sheffield Media, Inc. The pay was above average for such a position, the personal benefits were excellent and her working relationship with Grace Beaumont couldn't be better. Elsa had worked for the company the past ten years, as a receptionist for seven of those years; but during that time she had been attending night classes at St. Camille Junior College, hoping to improve her chances for a promotion. Then miraculously three years ago when Grace had taken charge of her father's media empire, she had looked within the company for a replacement for her father's middle-aged assistant who had retired shortly after Byram Sheffield's death four years ago.

Elsa worked busily, wanting everything to be perfect when Grace arrived. Although professionally and socially they were worlds apart, Grace insisted Elsa call her by her given name. Being allowed that privilege, along with receiving fair and courteous treatment, Elsa had grown to not only admire her boss, but to care for her. She would even go so far as to say they were good friends.

"She's not here?" Hudson Prentice, the senior vice-president of Sheffield Media, Inc. stood in the open doorway.

"No, sir." Elsa glanced at the carved mahogany antique wall clock. "It's five till."

"So it is. And our Grace is seldom early and never late."

"Yes, sir."

"Buzz me when she arrives. I've made reservations for Dumon's for lunch and I don't want her making other plans." Hudson stared quizzically at Elsa. "She doesn't have a prior lunch date, does she?"

Elsa liked Hudson Prentice well enough, but thought him a bit of a stuffed shirt. Somewhere in his late thirties, with brown eyes, brown hair and of medium build, he was a rather nondescript-looking man, despite his expensive suits, weekly manicures and salon-styled hair.