Here's a preview of my new Rona Shively story:

I waddled into the restaurant, mentally ordering my pancakes, eggs, and sausage as I scanned the dining room for someone who fit my client’s description of herself. She had said that she was tall and thin with dark brown hair. She said that she would be wearing a red leather jacket. I spotted her almost immediately. Her hair was short, in a stylish bob. She was almost too conservative-looking to be meeting with the likes of me. I walked up to the table and made one of those “Ahem” noises to get her attention. When she looked up, the expression on her face went from calm to catty in something like seconds.
“So, you’re Rona Shively,” she said, her tone extremely unfriendly.
“So, I am,” I said, “What’s the problem? Are you Susan Fleming?”
“That’s right, and I’ve got a bone to pick with you,” she said getting to her feet. She jabbed a finger in my face as she continued her tirade. “Where do you get off trying to take money from helpless, old ladies?”
Now, I’m not generally speechless. This is especially true when some hag is pointing her gaudily painted fingernails in my face as this woman had done. A few months ago, she would have been on the receiving end of a nasty ass-whooping for this kind of behavior. Today, however; I was feeling generous. Whether it was the nature of the accusation or the instability of my hormones that made me stop and think before taking a swing is not important. What’s important here is that I simply stepped back and calmly asked, “What are you talking about?”
“You know very well what I’m talking about,” she said loudly. People were starting to watch our exchange and with my reputation, I really didn’t need this kind of publicity. “I’m talking about Esmerelda Haynes, my grandmother, the woman you convinced to sign over $5,000 of her retirement money for a phony insurance policy.”
Okay, now she was just being ridiculous. “Esmerelda Haynes?” I asked. My patience was wearing thin and since she was making it very difficult for me to order those pancakes I’d been fantasizing about, I was starting to feel a little less charitable and seriously considering punching her in the mouth to shut her up.
“Esmerelda Haynes,” she said. “You just spoke with her last week, didn’t you?”
I took a moment and then shook my head. “Uh, no,” I said, “I’ve never spoken with any Esmerelda. Not last week or even over the course of my entire existence. I do not sell insurance, nor have I ever convinced anyone to give me $5,000.”
She gave me a look that said she absolutely didn’t believe me. This woman did not know me and I wasn’t sure who had told her that I was the one who swindled her poor old granny, but at this point, I just wanted to sit down.

You can order your copies of The Rona Shively Stories by contacting me here. Get all four for just $40!

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