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“I can handle that.”
“You sure?”
“Yes!”
“Maybe I’ll even be back before he shows up. Let’s hope for that, okay?”
“Please go to your appointment. I’ll be fine.”
Danielle grabbed her knockoff purse and sauntered away. Abby took the stack of must-go mail and set it in an isolated pile away from everything else, confident she would somehow mess this up.
She suspected that Danielle had complained about her to Clark Lorbmeer and the rest of the office staff. She imagined Clark telling his wife Danna-Dee how awful she was doing, and the news getting passed along to Danna-Dee’s tennis friends and bunco lady pals.
General worries about her own shortcomings consumed her as she settled in at the front desk, but after several quiet minutes alone, Abby began to calm down and enjoy herself. It wasn’t often that she had free time she didn’t need to fill with some reportable task. She practiced some yoga breathing, trying to be present, wanting to make something of this brief moment of camera-less privacy.
Just as she’d begun to transfer into that elusive zen-zone of peace, the front door opened and she snapped back to attention. The man coming through the door looked like he was about her age. In his arms he carried a big white plastic bin.
“Hi there,” she said. “Can I help you?”
“Hi. You’re new here?”
“Yeah, sort of. I’m not normally up here. My office is in the back. Would you like a water or some coffee?”
“No. That’s okay. Thanks for asking me that. I can assure you, no one ever has before.” He laughed.
“Really?” she asked.
“Yeah. Anyhow, nice to meet you. I’m Charles. You can call me Charlie.”
“Hi, Charlie. I’m Abby,” she said. He set the bin off to the side and shook her hand. He was tall and muscular with dark eyes and dark hair. The opposite of Randall.
“Are you a lawyer?” he asked her.
“No,” she said. Unsure what her title was, she shrugged and smiled.
“Do you have anything for me today?” he asked
She tapped her fingertips against her lips and looked around her. Finally she said, “I guess not.”
“Okay. Well then, nice meeting you, Abby.”
“Nice meeting you too, Charlie.”
He smiled and waved on his way out. A moment after he was gone it occurred to her that he was the mailman.
“Shit,” she said. She grabbed the pile of letters and ran out the door, down the few steps into the lobby that Lorbmeer, Messdiem & Miller shared with other companies, and out onto the hot street. Charlie was already halfway down the block, about to go into another building. One more second and she wouldn’t have seen where he’d gone.
“Wait! Charlie! Wait,” Abby yelled.
He turned around and smiled, clearly pleased to see her running after him.
“I forgot to give you these,” she yelled, waving the letters so he’d see them.
“They look important,” he said when she’d caught up to him. He raised one eyebrow. “Are they?”
“I guess so,” she said.
“I’ll take good care of them.”
