Working six months with
Eric
a was enough to know she was different from any woman he’d ever met. She made it clear that she needed nothing from anyone. That made getting close to her evermore difficult. She had to know she was gorgeous, but she never used that power over anyone, man or woman. She had the body of a dedicated runner, but kept it concealed beneath loose-fitting clothes that almost allowed Gregg to keep his thoughts on a professional level. He was riding the elevator to her now because she was the only person upstairs kind enough to help him voluntarily. Gregg considered himself quite a catch, but he’d devote himself to her completely if she would only agree to accept him.
The elevator doors opened on twenty-two. Gregg slid his white plastic card through the reader and stepped inside. The quiet was a striking contrast to the constant chatter on nineteen. The hall snaked around the computer room with its rows and rows of glass-fronted racks filled with colonies of blinking LEDs. There was an empty desk at the front of the room, a remnant from the days when computers needed to be constantly attended. Now the systems were smart enough to summon help on their own.
The few staffers Gregg passed were intent on their monitors, deep in thought as if puzzling out a mystery of one sort or another. Not one conversation could be heard anywhere.
Eric
a’s door was open. Gregg filled the doorway and tapped his knuckles against the metal frame.
Eric
a’s fingers clicked away. Her shoulders turned slightly toward him, but her eyes remained focused on the screen. Behind her the
Boston
skyline glistened in the spring sunshine.
She clicked a final button and her gaze shifted from her work to Gregg so smoothly he didn’t notice the transition. One second she was looking at the monitor, the next she squarely faced him. Her intensity reminded him of one of their first encounters. They were talking together in the office after work. Some of the other CSRs were horsing around with a Nerf football. Bob threw the ball full strength and sent it whistling over the cubicles too fast for his friend to handle. The ball hurtled directly at the back of
Eric
a’s head. Gregg flinched and
Eric
a spun into action, her outstretched arm was ready faster than Gregg could see it move. She caught the ball by its point, an impressive demonstration of reflexes and coordination, even more so when he learned her skill was the result of ten years of Karate.
Looking at him now she smiled a warm, relaxed smile that brightened her features. “Hey,” she said without a hint of the tension or nervous expectation Gregg felt.
“What do I have to do to get an office like this
?
”
“Learn dot Net. I could use you tomorrow, maybe sooner.”
“Easier said than done, I’m sure.”
“No problem for a guy as smart as you.” Her mischievous smile hinted that she’d enjoy working closely with him again. She knew why Gregg came to her so often. At least she didn’t object.
Gregg felt a twinge of embarrassment and more than a bit confused. The boundaries had been settled two years ago.
Eric
a was dating Simon. Still, he couldn’t help feeling there was almost as much interest on her part as his. He wanted to believe there was, but he knew this was just
Eric
a’s way. This wasn’t an invitation to romance. Romance rarely crossed her mind. What he’d take for innuendo from another woman was simply the unvarnished truth coming from
Eric
a. There was no hidden meaning to delve for. Looking for one only brought frustration.
He tried to shake the thought from his mind.
“I’ve got a tough one for you today,” he said. “You should know I’ve already had a run-in with your boss and lost.”
“Do I seem like the type of girl who takes on a problem after her boss has said no
?
”
“You’re not the type of girl who turns away someone in need.”
“Especially not you.”
Gregg explained Marissa’s conversation with Mr. Johnson and the discrepancy between the two documents in his hand; the phone bill which showed a call at
2:07
p.m.
and the Johnsons’ account statement which showed an order placed at
3:45
p.m
.
“So you want to know who to believe
?
”
“Yeah. Can you poke around the database
?
Maybe check the phone system and make sure it all looks kosher
?
I’m sure I’m going to have to pay this guy, but I’d like to have something concrete to point to in case someone asks. Having our phone records would make me feel a lot better.”
“I don’t have access to the phone system. It’s in the security room and Brad’s the only one of us who can get in there. You’re going to need his help.”
“That’s not going to happen.”
“Why
?
What did he say
?
”
“He said I should do what’s right for the firm, meaning he was too busy ogling some new chick that works for Bob to even listen to me.”
Eric
a smiled knowingly.
“He spends more time down there than up here. You’d think he could spare five minutes when I have a problem.”
“He must have said something. What reason did he give
?
”
“Reason
?
He’s not capable of reasoning. He’s a testosterone overdosed monkey. If his sister hadn’t married Marty, he’d be working in a toll booth.”
“Serious hostility.” She chuckled.
“He took my only copy of this guy’s phone bill and ran it through the shredder. Right in front of everyone. Made me look like a moron.”
Eric
a’s hand rushed to cover a smile. “You should’ve decked him.”
“I wanted to, believe me. Of course I’d be unemployed by now. You’d miss me, wouldn’t you
?
”
“Wow. How could he do that
?
I don’t get it.”
“All he said was the order missed the
three o’clock
deadline. He didn’t check anything. He didn’t look at my paperwork. He just shredded it.”
“That’s gutsy even for him.”
“Can you do some poking
?
”
“You know I’ll take any chance to show Brad for the dufus he is.”
“But
?
”
“But that dufus has no clue what goes on around here. The only time he comes to see me is when he’s adding something to my workload or taking away one of my resources.”
“So you’re busy
?
”
“If I had double the staff I’d be busy. I’m barely surviving.”
“Anyone else who might look at it
?
”
Eric
a reached out and took the pages. “After Brad told you to drop it
?
What do you think
?
Everyone up here drinks the Kool-Aid.”
“So you’re my only hope.”
“A dim hope. I’ll have some breathing room after the rollout. Will your customer wait that long
?
”
“What choice have I got
?
Besides poking around in the database myself that is
?
”
“That’s a frightening thought.”
Eric
a stood and came around the desk.
Gregg hesitated. She was dismissing him, but he didn’t want the conversation to end. This was the recurring theme in all their interactions, but he couldn’t help himself. “How’s Simon these days
?
”
She almost seemed not to remember him. “He’s fine,” she said after a long hesitation. “I haven’t seen him much lately. This project’s killing me.”
Gregg took his cue, thanked her and left twenty-two with a spark of hope.
The sun disappeared behind the buildings leaving the streets blanketed in long damp shadows. A few hours earlier, office workers had been penned up in row after row of ten-by-ten boxes, twenty, thirty, even forty stories high. The sidewalks that had brimmed with primped masses were mostly empty now. Moms and dads had scurried out to the suburbs to get the kids. The younger crowd that remained churned energetically in bars scattered every block or two throughout the financial district.
Eric
a rounded the corner carrying a warm box of veggie smothered pizza that would sustain her through the late hours and into the morning. Jovial voices drew her attention halfway down the block. A group of twenty revelers spilled out of the International and onto
Pearl Street
. She recognized two women in their early twenties that had worked for her in client services and she detoured over to say hello. Other familiar faces appeared in the group as she drew near. Soon Gregg pushed his way through the crowd and stopped a few feet from
Eric
a.
The women moved along reluctantly as if they’d been given some secret signal to get lost, but didn’t want to.
Eric
a and Gregg stood firm in the middle of the jostling, joking group that enveloped them as it moved along
Pearl Street
.
“You’re going the wrong way aren’t you
?
” Gregg asked.
“That depends where you’re headed.”
“It’s
seven thirty
on Friday night. You’re not going back
?
” Gregg indicated the gray concrete building across the street.
Two younger girls drifted back from the group to watch their conversation from a safe distance.
“Your fans are waiting.”
“This is the client services crew. We do this every couple months. Same as ever.”
“I know who they are. No one from Bob’s group though, shame.”
“Funny. We’re meeting Bob at The Rack. You should come.”
“You already have both hands full of twenty-somethings. How are you going to have time to talk to me
?
”
“I don’t date women from the office,” he choked.
“Really. I wasn’t sure that was a problem for you.”
“You know everyone here works in client services. If they worked in another department it might be different.”
“Convenient. Sounds plausible, but not too limiting.”