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You’d be wrong, but you could SAY that…
Suddenly, it was like all the pieces of a puzzle came together all at once. I could hear them snap into place with an audible click.
If I wanted someone to report on Lou’s behavior… this might be the perfect opportunity.
Might be the perfect opportunity for other things, too.
“I could put in a good word for you,” I offered.
“They already turned me down.”
“Who, Lou?”
“I don’t know – it was some bald guy.”
“Peanut? Fuck that loser. Excuse my French.”
“No worries. I speak French.”
I liked this chick.
“You want to talk to Lou Shaw,” I said, and went over to my desk to retrieve a business card. “Go over there about seven tonight. I’ll let him know you’re coming. He’ll hire you on the spot.” I handed her the card. “Call me if there’s any problems.”
“Thank you. That’s very generous of you.”
“Yes it is – but I’ll require something in return.”
Her face got as remote and inscrutable as the Sphinx’s. “What would that be, exactly?”
“You having a drink with me after your shift.”
“At the strip club?”
“No, I think we’ll go someplace marginally more classy.”
She smiled. “You didn’t need to help me get a job just for that.”
“I know,” I grinned.
“You’re very confident, Mr. Pollari.”
“Jack, Fiona. My name is Jack.”
“Jack,” she purred.
“Seven o’clock, go see Lou. I’ll drop by later for that drink.”
“I look forward to it.”
“That makes two of us.”
“See you soon… Jack,” she said, and gave me a smile before she walked out.
I watched her perfect ass sashay out in those jeans.
Damn.
I didn’t get any more work done on taxes for the rest of the day.
