She’d made it clear that I was working on her stories now, taking food from her imaginary future children’s mouths. She’d also volunteered that she was seeing someone so I needn’t bother asking her out. If that was supposed to pique my interest, it hadn’t. We’d gotten off on all the wrong feet.
Before I could open my mouth she spun around in her swivel chair.
“I never meant to get you fired, Jesse. I just told Greg that stuff so he’d move you back to accounting. Not fired.” Her hands waved like she was washing them. How delightfully symbolic.
“Dunno what you’re talking about. Greg never mentioned whatever it was. It’s about money, and I’ve seen it coming since I made the switch. Accounting, remember? We know where the money is. And, uh, isn’t.”
She washed a little more. “Okay.” Her chair forced her around to face her computer. “Greg didn’t say anything?”
What a hatchet job she’d tried to pull, if she was this worried. Let her worry.
Favorite line. “Her hands waved like she was washing them.” Says so much about her. And about his reaction to her as well, since the line is in his point of view. All we need to know really. I live to write such lines and too seldom do. I must admit to reading it the first time with green eyes. Thank heaven, now I’m able to enjoy it and smile while I think, “Good job, Joel. Time to revel now.”
Such a delight when something I write connects. Thanks for sharing that, Alice.