I’d left Mr. Big dozing happily in my bedroom with a fresh litter box, a full dish of Meow Mix, and a water bowl. My beloved Pugsley had been banished to the den sofa last night. I’m sure he and Mr. Big will reach a detente eventually, but I figured it was a good idea to keep them separated for a week or two. I found Vera Mae in her cluttered office chatting with Kevin, who’d been assigned the task of writing and producing a series of thirty-second spots on the event. She waved me to a box of fragrant apple cider doughnuts balanced on top of her printer. “Help yourself, Maggie. They’re fresh from Wilson’s Bakery.” “Wilson’s Bakery. I always like it when they send their account exec over here.” “Well, take what you want. Once Big Jim spots them, they’ll be history.” I grabbed a doughnut, moved a pile of papers and files from the molded plastic visitor’s chair, and plopped myself down. Vera Mae and Kevin were deep in conversation about the best way to run a contest and what sorts of prizes would rope in the most listeners.
