Full Release by Marshall Thornton (classic books for 11 year olds txt) 📕

“Do you have an extra key around here somewhere?” he asked.

“Oh, you know, I don’t,” I lied. There was a key under the potted jade plant next to the sliding glass door that led from the living room to the patio.

“I just thought, in case I get a client or something,” he explained. “But that’s okay. I’ll just take the day off.”

“I’d hate for you to lose money because of me. We can see each other another time.”

“It’s sweet that you worry about me. I thought you’d have more movies around. You know, because you work for the movies.”

“You want to watch a movie?”

“Yes, I’m tired of Judge Judy.”

I didn’t like the idea of this guy looking around my house for movies to watch. Of course, I also didn’t much like the image of him sitting on my sofa watching Judge Judy all day, either. “I thought, you know, when we talked before, I thought you might be leaving.”

“No, I do not have to,” he said, as though I’d just begged him to stay. “What time will you be home?”

“I don’t know,” I mumbled.

“Six? Six-thirty? If I had a key, I could go and buy some groceries. You do not have any food. I washed the dishes, though. In the bathroom sink. That’s a pain in the ass.”

“I think it would be better if you went home. We can see each other in a couple of days,” I said, though I was beginning to think I never wanted to see this guy again.

He laughed. “Don’t be a worry wart. So you’re in a bad mood. It will take me five minutes to change that… won’t it, Dirk?”

I started to make another objection, but he said, “See you at seven thirty.” And hung up on me. I wondered if he thought hanging up on a person was somehow flirtatious, because just a few minutes later he sent me a text that said, “CANT WAIT TO C U. HURRY HOME.”

I decided to ignore the situation, which really wasn’t a decision since I’d been ignoring the situation all day, and concentrate on updating my resume and writing a cover letter. Once I got both the way I wanted them, I had to print them out and then fax them. Printing and faxing were both a bit of a challenge. I suppose I could have made a PDF and then emailed, but the email might get caught in a spam filter. For a first approach, I thought it safer to fax. Plus, Peter had given me a fax number rather than an email, indicating that Bobby Sharpe preferred faxes. Maybe he was old school.

The problem was that the printer and the fax machine were out near Meribelle’s desk. I wasn’t sure if she was back from lunch. I couldn’t very well pop my head and peek without looking ridiculous, so I went ahead and pressed print, then left my office.

Just to make the situation worse, Charles stood at Meribelle’s cubicle telling her every thing he’d eaten the day before and how much exercise he’d done to get rid of the calories. The plastic surgery he had made him look like an animated character, a somewhat surprised animated character. I walked by and pulled my resume and cover letter out of the printer. I had Bobby’s fax number on a post-it. I quickly put in the number and slipped the pages into the fax machine.

I could tell I’d gotten Charles and Meribelle’s attention. Not a good thing. Mercifully, the pages went through quickly. I snatched them up and headed back to my office.

“What was that?” Charles asked.

“Work,” I snapped. “You should try it.”

The rest of the afternoon I spent behind a closed door working on a report Shelly wanted reconciling last year’s ultimates to actual sales figures. I finished around four-thirty and brought the report into Shelly, but she’d already left for the day. Apparently, announcing impending doom had worn her out. When I got back to my office, Tiffany was sitting in the guest chair.

“I can’t believe they’re doing this. It’s so arbitrary. A ten percent reduction in every department? There are five of us. What are they going to do? Fire half a person?”

I sat behind my desk and nodded. We’d really covered all of this at the morning’s meeting.

“It’s really going to hurt the way we do business, don’t you think?”

“Of course, but there’s nothing we can do about it.”

“What am I going to do if they fire me? I’ve got two kids. They’re going to college in a few years.” Or maybe they’re not, I thought.

“You’ll be fine. You’ll get a separation package that will hold you over until you find another job. In fact, if you get a job fast enough you could end up ahead of the game.”

“Have you heard any jobs yet?”

Other than for myself, no. None of the calls I’d made had called me back. I shook my head. “I’m still waiting on a couple of call backs.”

She looked like she might launch into another round of why-me, but then seemed to think better of it. Standing up, she said, “Thanks for everything you’ve done. I really appreciate it.” Then she went back to work.

I slipped out of the office at 5:29. To keep myself from feeling guilty, I tucked some work into my briefcase and promised myself I’d do it at home while I watched TV. Hopefully, alone.

I probably wouldn’t get home until seven-thirty or eight. Hopefully, Eddie would get the message and take off before I got there. I doubted it. I’d probably have to throw him out when I got home. That gave me a sinking feeling in my stomach. Partly because I didn’t like conflict, and partly because he’d threatened to seduce me the minute I walked in the door. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to resist.

Most of my friendship with Peter was conducted over the phone. He lived in Venice. I lived in Hollywood. The drive could