Chapter Twenty-Nine
Richie was in his cubicle at his drafting table when Madame Rhinehart’s
Assistant stuck her head in. “Richie,” she announced in a tone that clearly said she was not going to tolerate any of his nonsense, “Madame Rhinehart wants you in her office - right now.” The Assistant was an older woman who had been with the firm since its inception. Her hair was long and straight. Gray was showing at its ends. She always wore sensible heels and tailored dark suits that fit too snugly over a matronly bustline and hips. She seemed to relish her role as Madame Rhinehart’s watchdog.
“You should be ashamed of yourself, Richie. You’ve only been here a short while and already Miss Pimms has reported you. I would not want to be in your shoes, young man.”
Richie reluctantly looked up a
