them.'
This was interesting news I wasn't sure how to process.
'Like what?'
'Promotion opportunities.'
I read the buletin boards in the hal by the office mail every
day. I saw the internal-job postings along with the memos
on company policy and announcements about the holiday
parties and picnics. Nothing there had caught my eye or
sent me into spasms of excitement. I'd never considered
applying for any of them. I stil intended to get my MBA
when they'd chip in to pay for it.
'Such as?' I leaned forward.
'They're looking for someone to start in a new entry-level
marketing position in Vivian Darcy's department.'
'And if I don't want to work for Vivian?'
For a moment, Paul looked pleased before he smoothed
For a moment, Paul looked pleased before he smoothed
his features into studied neutrality. 'It's something to think
about. You can't be an assistant forever, Paige.'
That was certainly true, and I was touched he cared
enough to think so. 'I don't plan to be.'
'This could be a good chance for you,' he said.
And that was true, too. So why did we both look so sad?
I knew from Eric's schedule that he'd be home around
eight o'clock today. I gave him half an hour for dinner,
another fifteen minutes for a shower. If he was as eager as
I was to folow the instructions I'd left him, it wouldn't be
more than that.
The black trench coat I wore wasn't meant to make me
look like a pervert, though that's what I felt like as I
entered the parking garage. I'd picked it to help
camouflage me in the shadows, but I had toyed with the
idea of going naked beneath it. I ended up putting on black
jogging pants and a black T-shirt instead, not bold enough
to go bare. I might have had I had a note teling me to do
it, I thought with a smile as I climbed the second flight of
stairs.
stairs.
I came out onto a nearly empty level. At this time of night
the spots taken up by daytime commuters would be
vacant. But from this level I had a clear view across the
street and into Eric's first-floor apartment.
The concrete wal hit me chest high, but I could lean on it
to look across the street. At 9:00 p.m., night had already
falen. The orange lights of the parking garage lit the door
to the stairs and hit every other pilar, but none was above
my head and so I had no glare to distract me. The
streetlights, too, were placed far enough apart they didn't
interfere with my voyeurism.
