Everyone turned to the woman framed in the doorway, the waning sunlight glinting off her jewelled headpin.
Mink coat. Flowered gown. Gucci bag and matching pumps.
“Who is she?”
“She looks rich.”
A frown marred Winifred's flawless brow as the lady approached.
“Who are you?” she asked in a scathing tone.
“Amanda Carter, Miss Hawthorne,” she said with a slight bow.
The name was not familiar to Winifred, but a memory tried to niggle at her brain.
She was good with faces and knew she had seen the lady before.
Just as she knew she wasn't important enough to remember.
“You know me?” she asked, annoyed by the way the lady casually used her name.
“Everybody knows Miss Hawthorne,” Amanda responded sweetly.
Yes, everybody knew her. Though not all knew of the gigantic ego she tried to hide
