Layla, all cheery and upbeat now, said, “I can’t tell you how thrilled we are to have Alice working at BABA. She’s already highly respected in the arts fund-raising world, so now I want her to learn every aspect of the book world and BABA’s place in it. She’s met a few of the teachers, but this will be her first classroom experience. I thought I’d start her off at the top with your excellent master class.”

“Thank you, Layla,” I said, my BS meter still ticking at full capacity. “That’s very kind of you to say.”

Layla beamed at my humble appreciation of her words. I supposed, or hoped, that this was her way of extending a peace offering. I had no choice but to play her game, seeing as how she signed my checks.

“I’ll leave Alice in your good hands, then,” Layla said, and gave the class a queenly wave before whisking herself away.

As the door closed, I happened to notice Tom Hardesty staring at Layla’s backside. Were those stars in his eyes? He looked like a teenager about to swoon over a rock star.

I stole a glance at Cynthia, whose look of sheer contempt was quickly replaced by mild interest.

Well, that was intriguing. Cynthia didn’t seem to like Layla at all. It was no wonder, given the way her husband practically drooled over the woman. Very interesting, I thought. No, wait, it wasn’t interesting at all. The last thing I wanted was to get involved in boardroom theatrics or BABA politics. And it could be job suicide if Tom or Cynthia knew I’d even noticed their reactions to Layla.

Alice looked up at me. “Thank you so much for letting me take your class.”

“It’s my pleasure. Always room for one more.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that, but I appreciate it. Layla can be a bit of a bulldozer, but I promise I won’t slow the class down. I studied art and I love books, so I’m fascinated to learn more.”

“Great,” I said with a nod. “This is the perfect place to learn more. I’m sure you’ll do fine.”