The Venus Fix

Eighty-Five

“I’m so glad you came.”

Blythe smiled and extended her hand. The older woman’s skin was very cold. But then this whole place was cold. Freezing. Why were they meeting here? It was a strange place for an interview.

Stella Dobson pointed to a chair. There was a single light shining down on it, creating a halo effect around it and painting long shadows on the wall.

Blythe took the proffered seat.

She’d been looking forward to meeting Stella for weeks. Even if it did mean talking about what she’d done and why she’d done it and what it had meant to her. Morgan was helping her with that and one day, she knew, she’d be able to put it completely behind her. Maybe today would even help her purge it.

“Are you comfortable?”

“Yes. But…it’s so cold here. Aren’t you cold?”

“I know. I’m sorry. The heat hasn’t kicked in yet. But it should any second.”

Stella walked to the wings of the stage and pulled out a table on wheels that squeaked just a little as she rolled it over.

Blythe was not surprised to see a laptop on it. After all, this was an interview. She’d thought Stella would tape record it, but if she wanted to type notes, that was fine.

The notebook was titanium and looked much more expensive than the used one that Blythe had. But just like her laptop at home, there was a small video camera clipped to the top of this computer. Exactly the same make and model as the one she had worked with.

“That’s a coincidence,” Blythe said.

“What is?”

“The camera. It’s the same one I have.”

Stella smiled. “I’m going to film you,” she said as she turned on the computer and adjusted the minicamera. “I want to put portions of some of the interviews up on the Web when the book comes out, is that all right with you?”

“Cool.”

“Good. I didn’t think you’d mind being filmed. You did so much performing online.” She smiled. “I hope you don’t mind this, either.”

Stella reached into a shopping bag. Blythe saw a flash of color and knew what it was instantly. The cobalt-blue feathers had deep purple undertones and were tinged with lavender.

“That’s my mask,” she said with a combination of wonder and confusion.

Stella smiled. “Well, not your exact mask, but one just like it. So you won’t object to wearing it?”