One long, bloodred nail (authentic coloring, do you think?) ran down a calendar printout. "Well, well, well. What do you know? You're not listed."

My smile slipped a notch. "I assure you, I do have an appointment. Monday. Eleven o'clock."

"Oh, I believe you." Her sarcasm was as sharp and biting as fangs sinking into my vein. "A magic fairy must have sneaked inside and erased your name."

Maybe her lover the devil had done it, I thought, my smile fading even more. "Please check again."

"I don't think so. Just have a seat over there," she said, pointing to a stiff, uncomfortable-looking chair. "I'll call you if Mr. Powell can work you in. And by the way," she added with an evil smile, "you have a streak of dirt on your cheek."

"Thank you for telling me." Bitch. "I truly appreciate it." My own smile dissolved completely, but I didn't immediately clean my face. I waited until she turned, then scrubbed both cheeks with a vengeance.

Why hadn't the cab just run over me when it had had the chance? That would have saved me a lot of trouble. Would have been more merciful, too.

Legs stiff, I strode to my designated seat and waited like a naughty child for punishment. I would have liked to go home and indulge in an extra-large, thick-crusted pepperoni pizza dripping in grease with a side of gooey chocolate-chip cookies. And a box of Krispy Kremes. And a bag of Doritos. And a large Cherry-Vanilla Coke. What did I care about cholesterol and clogged arteries when my sanity hung in the balance?

Time ticked by and my butt began to throb. I couldn't get comfortable. The chair had no padding and, each time I shifted my weight, my ass bones ground into the faux leather.

Just as I was shifting yet again, a woman with shoulder-length silver hair and a regal air that shouted "pedigree," glided through the doorway, looking neither right nor left. An expensive, perfumed breeze brushed my face as she passed. When Elvira noticed the newcomer, she shot to her feet, her features tight with disgust. And just a hint of fear.