It's Only Temporary

Chapter 12: Handwriting (Part 1)

David knew he owed Ginger an apology. She'd taken his temper tantrums in stride for the past couple weeks, unlike the first two girls the temp agency had sent over since Penny's departure. Neither of them had lasted more than a day. At least Ginger understood not to take it personally.

She'd been nothing but a model of professionalism. Punctual. Efficient. Organized. Typed 60 words per minute without a single typo. And polite too. Polite to a fault. She was two weeks into the job now, and she still insisted on addressing him as 'Mr. Powers' without so much as a hint of irony. He knew he shouldn't hold it against her. Mr. Powers. That was his name. It wasn't her fault that every time she said it, he could hear the echo of those syllables in someone else's voice - with a different tone entirely.

This morning, he'd asked her to dig up a file from a deal he'd worked on a couple years ago. Leo wanted to go over the records. He'd sat across Leo's desk with the thick folder in his lap, thumbing through the papers as his eyes skimmed past the dates. 2010... 2011... 2012.... He'd stopped as he came to a sheet of lined notebook paper, torn from spiral-bound steno pad. December 29, 2012. The date was scrawled at the top of the page in handwriting that was sloppy to the point of illegibility. Handwriting he knew, at this point, almost as well as he knew his own.

He'd lost his train of thought for a moment - just sat there in front of his boss, staring at the paper. Without even realizing what he was doing, he'd lifted a finger and traced across where Penny had written 'MEETING MINUTES' in big block letters. Leo had to clear his throat to bring him out of his trance.

Maybe it was just the surprise of finding it there. Maybe it was the way it recalled to his mind how she had looked that day. She'd been wearing a candy-apple red cableknit sweater. She usually stuck to pastels, but that day she'd worn red. She should've gone with red more often. Or maybe not. Maybe she could tell how it made it hard for him to focus. That damned sweater. It looked expensive. A Christmas gift from some admirer? Cashmere, fine and smooth? He'd dug his finger nails into the palm of his hand, resisting the urge to touch it and find out.

In any case, she'd worn red that day. He'd brought her along to the meeting with Hancock Interactive, and he could have sworn he saw one of the other men at the table staring at her chest. She'd taken a seat beside him when they came into the conference room, but he'd muttered in her ear for her to go sit in the corner and take down minutes from there - out of that asshole's line of sight

On the elevator ride afterward, he'd taken her steno pad out of her hands and flipped to the first page, mainly to give himself something to look at other than her sweater. He'd shaken his head in disbelief as his eyes had skimmed over the handwritten notes.

December 29, 2012

Meeting with Hancock Interactive

ATTENDEES

- David

- Leo

- Guy in grey suit #1 (kinda cute)

- Guy in grey suit #2 (wimpy looking)

- Guy in grey suit #3 (beard)

MEETING MINUTES

Leo: Welcome everyone yadda yadda yadda

Cute guy: Something about $. Not enough $$$?

David: Bridge loan

Cute guy: Good

Wimpy guy: Sounds risky (see I knew he was wimpy just looking at him)