Melody Mason, as in THE Melody Mason, walked herself right into the building and straight up to the security desk, looking just as pretty as a picture with her purse over one arm, a shopping bag in the other, and her trademark boots clicking on the marble floor the whole way. The security guard manning the desk in James’ apartment building already knew his wife would never believe this.
She took off her sunglasses and directed the full force of her smile at him. “Hi. Melody Mason, here to see James Montgomery.”
That lucky dog, thought the security guard.
He made a show of glancing through the list of expected guests, but of course he knew exactly where he would find her name on the list. “Of course, Miss Mason. Follow me, please. You need a special key to reach his floor.” He guided her
