3
It was 8:45. She had made it and had even obeyed the speed limits, cussing Sam Gant under her breath the whole way. She was just about to walk through the front door of the paper when she spotted Hal Preston striding down the sidewalk carrying three cups of coffee. She paused and waited to hold the door for her new boss.
“Good morning! Very prompt! Thanks!” He handed her an insulated cup.
“This is Elena,” he indicated the young Hispanic woman behind the metal desk.
“Ahhh, the mysterious disappearing receptionist,” Bev thought to herself. Hal handed her one of the remaining cups.
“Elena, Beverly Connors, a new writer.”
Elena, dipped her head slightly and sat down with her cup.
“Good morning,” Bev said to both of them.
“Come on back,” Hal turned down the left hall that had b
