wondering if I'd see someone pondering discipline.
'Ari,' I said, surprised. 'Hi.'
Miriam's grandson tossed his butt into the sand-filed can
and shrugged his coat higher around his neck. 'Hey,
Paige.'
'I didn't know you lived here.'
He grinned. 'I don't. Just dropped off something for my
grandma, you know?'
I didn't know, but I nodded. 'Tel her I said helo.'
'Stop by the shop and tel her yourself,' he suggested with a sweetly dipping smile.
It was nice to be flirted with, albeit without much heat. 'I'l
do that. Have a good day.'
'You, too.'
I looked back as I crossed the aley to the parking garage,
and Ari was stil looking. Maybe there was a little heat,
after al. And what woman didn't like to be appreciated? I
had a much bigger smile on my face than I had before, and
it lasted me al the way to work.
I wasn't even close to being late, but I might as wel have
been because by the time I got to my desk, my boss had
already piled a stack of files on it. It could have been
worse. He could have been standing over my desk with
the empty coffeepot in his hand. He did that, sometimes,
though I knew he was as capable of making coffee as I
am. More, maybe, since he inhaled the high-octane stuff
am. More, maybe, since he inhaled the high-octane stuff
like it was air and I limited myself to a mug once or twice a
day.
Spying the empty Starbucks cup in the trash, I knew he'd
already had his first dose of the day. I was safe a little bit
longer. I could get the files ordered and put away without
him breathing down my neck. I decided to put the coffee
on anyway, though, just in case. There were many days I
could predict my boss's every move, from the midmorning
break when the bagel man came around, to his post-lunch
trip to the bathroom.
Today wasn't one of those days.
'Paige. Listen. I need you to get those files taken care of,
okay?'
I turned from the smal bar sink, where I'd been filing the
coffeepot with water. 'Right, Paul. Of course.'
Amazing how someone with only a community-colege
education could stil deduce simple things.
'Good.' Paul nodded and smoothed his tie between his
thumb and forefinger while he watched me fiddle with the
thumb and forefinger while he watched me fiddle with the
coffeemaker.
I hadn't yet figured out if Paul hovered because he
expected me to screw up, or if he hoped I would. Either
way, it didn't bother me the way it would have some of the
