Read Online All for a Story by Allison Pittman - Free Book Online Page B

center of the table, from which her hastily sketched monkey smiled.
    Her scalp tingled icily beneath her tam, and she prayed for Zelda Ovenoff to grab and yank her back under the table.
    “Do you know where I got that?”
    Monica swallowed and nodded.
    His face completely placid, King reached into his jacket, at which time Monica scrambled along the back of the chairs and threw herself against Max, burying her face in his shirt, grateful for the strong arm which more than made up for the strength that had fled from her legs.
    “Are you a subscriber?” Max said, which prompted her to peek through her fingers and see King holding a folded copy of the latest edition of Capitol Chatter .
    “Subscriber? No. I’m afraid my days allow very little time for leisure reading. But it was brought to my attention that my personal establishment held a prominent position in your latest edition.”
    King spoke like he belonged in a parlor, with a tiny pocket of air softening each syllable.
    “I wouldn’t call it prominent,” Monica mumbled, having always resented her tiny corner on page eight.
    “It is more prominent than I would like,” King said. “There are reasons we don’t advertise; wouldn’t you agree?”
    She nodded, feeling Max’s shirt against her skin as he drew her closer.
    “After all, you are careful to keep your identity separate from your shenanigans, aren’t you?” He paused, his mouth open slightly, indicating the answer to his question was understood. “And yet . . .” He positioned his copy of Capitol Chatter , scanned for a bit, and read, “‘You’ll be toe-to-toe with the king of the jungle.’” He looked up. “King?”
    She nearly dropped, but Max held her up. “I didn’t mean you. I don’t know you. I didn’t even know your name until Tony told me a few minutes ago.”
    “Is that so?”
    At that, Tony slowly stood, pad and pencil in hand.
    “Good morning, Mr. Manarola,” King said, greeting him as a peer.
    “‘Morning, Doc.”
    “You know I’ll insist that this visit be off the record.”
    “And you know I don’t make no promises until it’s all played out.”
    “Fair enough.” King turned his attention back to Monica, who by this time had taken a few deep breaths but had not released her grip on Max. “Reads like a puzzle, doesn’t it, with all the hidden clues and gobbledygook slang. So-called writers like you will be the death of the English language.”
    “Now just a minute —” This was too much, and she might have made a physical leap for him had Max not grabbed a handful of sweater to hold her back.
    King held up his hand. “I apologize, Miss, ah, Monkey. Sometimes it’s hard watching the world grow young around you. But let me understand —” he balanced a pair of thin-rimmed glasses on his nose and looked back at the paper —“‘big cats, donkeys, elephants . . .’ I assume you’re referring to our guests.”
    “You bet I am,” Monica said. “All those elected officials, breaking their own laws.” She twisted in Max’s grip to look up at him. “There’s the real story —what we should be writing about.”
    “You mean something like real journalism?”
    “Exactly.”
    “Well, maybe if we get out of this alive, we’ll talk. In the meantime, let’s listen to what the gentleman has to say.”
    Monica followed Max’s lead and turned her gaze back to Doc, who seemed pleased to once again be the center of attention.
    “I am sorry,” he said, “if I gave you all a fright. Please know that my intention was only to meet with you face-to-face to discuss these important matters. I am nothing if not a reasonable man. An honorable man. And I trust —” here he directed his attention straight at Tony —“this bit of ugliness will go no further than this room.”
    “What ugliness?” Max said with an air of confidence not even Monica believed.
    “Good boy.” A smile had unfurled beneath Doc’s narrow nose. “Now, if you’d like to bring