“Oh.”

“Yeah, ‘oh.’” Helen reached behind her and gently disengaged Kirsten’s hands. “Thanks for the thought, K, but you’re wasting your energy. That pair have got me so wound up . . .”

“Well, don’t talk about them, then,” she said reasonably.

“As well as tell a river to stop flowing downhill,” Lindsay muttered.

“Exactly. And as if it’s not enough that he’s sleeping with her, he’s taking professional decisions with her. To all intents and purposes, she’s in control. Whatever she wants, Guy backs her. Whenever there’s a difference of opinion, whether it’s about company strategy or something as minor as how a sequence should be filmed, Guy sides with her every time, and I’m the one left out in the cold. I feel like I’m being frozen out of my own company, and it’s really pissing me off. Things get decided when I’m not even there—like as not between the sheets. But it’s more than just being sidelined that bugs me. They’re changing the culture of the company, and I’m spending all my time and energy running to try and stand still instead of moving us forward. It’s not what I came into this business to do, but I just don’t know how the hell to beat this bitch at her own game.” Helen drained her glass and emptied the last of the bottle into it.

Lindsay rubbed her eyes with her knuckles and tried to straighten out of the slump that was spreading her upper body over the table top. “There’s got to be some dirt,” she managed to say.

“You what?”

Lindsay dragged herself upright and yawned hugely. “You don’t get to be queen bitch at your first attempt. If she’s such a smooth operator, there’s got to be bodies buried somewhere.”

Light dawned in Helen’s eyes. “Hey, why didn’t I think of that!”

Those were the last words Lindsay heard as she drifted into a limbo between sleep and waking. “Mmm,” she murmured as she slipped away.

It didn’t last long. Before she could fall far enough for dreams to capture her, the shrill chirrup of a telephone cut into her unconsciousness. “Huh? . . . wha’? . . . what is it?” she gabbled as her head shot up and her eyes snapped wide open and staring. She registered Helen reaching over to grab the phone that was buried under some papers inches away from where Lindsay’s ear had been.

“Hiya, Soph. All right? . . . Yeah, she’s here. All seven dwarfs rolled into one—Sleepy, Grumpy, Dopey, Snorey, Guilty, Boozy and Sexy.” Helen roared with laughter.

Lindsay, pitying Sophie’s eardrum, said, “You’ve been practicing that line all night. Gimme the phone.” She stretched her arm out, beckoning with her fingers.

“Here she is. See ya, Soph.” Helen grinned, handed the phone to Lindsay and grabbed a bundle of papers before sweeping out of the kitchen.

Lindsay cleared her throat. “I know. If I was home, I’d be sleeping with Mutt. In the doghouse.”