Book Scene 2

The smell of lavender announced her arrival. My nose expected a dowager in veils of charcoal gray but my eyes saw an angel in a dark-red silk suit cut on the bias. I swear her legs went up to heaven they were so long and her face, an alabaster Helen to bedevil my Paris.

"We need to talk Mister Editor."

"I'm not in a talking mood." He pushed a remote and the wail of a saxophone oozed from an IPOD.

"Then listen while I talk."

"Fair enough. Is it about a book? Don't say no. It's always about a book," h