offices, but paused in the halway crossroads. Maybe if I
was lucky Brenda would stop to summon a demon and I
could avoid further awkward conversation.
This early there wasn't much traffic, not even toward the
copy room or the break room, which always had
customers. She shrugged and shifted her purse over her
shoulder.
'I think I could handle it. Don't you?' Her eyes narrowed.
'They're looking for a few people, I heard. Not just one.'
I laughed to put her at ease. 'I'm realy not interested in it.'
Some smal tension I wouldn't have noticed had it not been
so obvious when it eased lifted her shoulders. 'I'm going to
do it. My sweetie says I should, anyway. He says he
wouldn't mind retiring a few years early.'
That seemed like the last reason for her to take a new job,
but I kept my mouth shut. 'Good luck.'
'Thanks.' She nodded and headed off, pausing for a
moment more. 'Lunch, today?'
'I can't. I'l have to work through so I can leave early.' I didn't explain further, though I could see her curiosity.
Paul, of course, was in the office when I got in. I dropped
my sweater and purse on the rack and powered up my
computer, then moved to the coffeepot to get that started.
The scent of coffee usualy brought him out from the cave
if he hadn't already caffeinated on the way to work, but
since I needed to talk to him anyway I fixed his cup and
rapped on his door.
'Paul? I need to—' I stopped just inside the door, at first convinced he wasn't in there, after al.
convinced he wasn't in there, after al.
He'd puled the blinds down al the way instead of just half.
The overhead lights, as usual, weren't on, but the table
lamp wasn't on, either. The only light came from the blue-
white shine off the computer monitor. I blinked, my eyes
adjusting, and the gleam of Paul's eyes made me realize he
was, indeed, sitting at his desk. He wore his suit coat, his
tie tight to his throat, his shirt startling and white in the
room's dimness. He reached at once to turn on the table
lamp when I entered, but not even his smile could convince
me nothing was wrong.
I didn't spil the coffee, but I did set it down so hard on the
corner of his desk that I sloshed it over the rim. I went
around the corner of the desk and knelt in front of him as
he turned in the swivel chair to stare at me. I reached for
his hands before I knew it, and he took them, his fingers
strong and warm and heavy in mine.
'What's wrong, Paul?'
'I can't make these figures work,' he said calmly. Solemn.
His fingers tightened briefly, a twitch.
I squeezed back, gently. 'Do you need me to take a look
I squeezed back, gently. 'Do you need me to take a look
