by Norman Fitts
He took a few steps away from the door, paused and looked back. He couldn't understand the strange attraction he was feeling toward someone he'd only known for ten minutes. He'd been attracted to women before but this was somehow different. He slowly walked toward the elevator lobby. He couldn't quite put his finger on it.
***
Margaret took the time to scan the files. Caldweld Manufacturing produced a wide variety of products everything from plastics to electronics. They were negotiating a contract with General Dynamics to supply a miniaturized, radar-receiving unit. Space was at a premium inside the airframe of a jet fighter. The patented electronics was one-third the size of anything else available.
The unit had been made available to General Dynamics and other potential customers, for evaluation. Everyone was satisfied it would do the job. Two days before the contracts were to be signed, a Japanese company supplied a similar product at two-thirds the cost. General Dynamics backed off to have a look. Caldweld examined the other unit and found the miniaturized circuits to be all but identical to they're own. They filed suit. General Dynamics put everything on hold, pending the outcome.
Lawrence arrived for his appointment about 10:30. The receptionist escorted him to a small conference room where he set up shop.
By lunchtime he had finished two of the depositions. One of the remaining four, and perhaps the most important, had called in sick. Arrangements were made for him to drop by the man's home. That was going to extend his day beyond quitting time at the office. On his way out for lunch, he stopped and called in.
Margaret tapped some of the contents of her little box into a cup of hot water. About half the folders had moved from one side of the desk to the other. She was pacing herself to finish by the end of the day. The phone chimed.
She picked it up. "Mr. Casey's office... Oh, hi Larry." Lawrence wanted to know how things were going. She looked at the desk. "Everything's fine here."
He explained about the last deposition. If he wasn't back before quitting time, he wanted her to mark her progress and leave her notes in a folder on the desk.
She took a sip from her cup. "I'll leave everything where you can find it."
He said good-bye and she hung up the phone. She leaned back and sipped her drink. She was thinking, I wish I knew how long this was supposed to take.
After she’d turned down a lunch invitation, first from David and then Ernie, the woman who gave her directions stopped by.
She leaned in the door. "Where's Larry?"
"Taking depositions.”
"We didn't get introduced this morning. I'm Kathy."
"I'm Maggie."
Kathy smiled. "You want to get a bite to eat?"
She really wasn't hungry, but since everyone in the building seemed intent on asking, she preferred the company of a female. "I guess. Thanks."
"How about the cafeteria across the street? They have a cheesecake to die for."
Margaret organized the paper on the desk into a neat pile and stood up. "Sounds good." Whatever that was. She picked up her bag and she and Kathy left.
Margaret never personally found out if the cheesecake was worth dying for, but the vegetables were okay. Kathy was pleasant enough. They talked about several things. A lot of it from Margaret was, of course, rehearsed. The topic of conversation finally got around to Lawrence. Kathy sort of had a thing for him, but she couldn't generate any interest. At first she thought he was gay.
Homosexuality was not a concept unique to humans. Margaret understood it, but since it never occur in her society, it was an understanding developed while observing other cultures.
In any event, that idea was laid to rest when Kathy found out he was dating a girl from an accounting firm on the tenth floor. Margaret sat and listened. The natural forces at work made her uncomfortable with the idea of Lawrence being with someone else. It wasn't a question of being jealous. Jealousy was an emotion she would never experience, at least not with one of her own kind. Hers was a simple need to have sex with him. The emotional attachment would come after that.
The problem was, there had been no official contact with this species. To become openly involved with a human was a very serious breach in protocol. She could lose everything. Even her father might not be able to get her out of it. The thought had crossed her mind to ask her mother. No, she wouldn't do that. She'd handle it herself. Ultimately she had only two choices. Fight it until it passed, and it would eventually, or leave.
***
Margaret looked at her watch. It was 7:00 pm. She stood looking at the martial arts photo in Lawrence's office. All the folders were neatly stacked on the desk. Her folder was lying beside them. Hanging around was probably not a good idea. The justification was the journal she kept, recording the unexpected events of each mission and the attraction she felt for this human was definitely unexpected. Besides, if she was going to work around him, she had to be able to control what was happening.
The elevator bell sounded. She looked at the door. A few moments later her nose announced him. She turned back to the picture on the wall.
Lawrence stopped in the doorway. Before having to ask, he tried to figure out why she was still there. Several things came to mind. "You didn't have to stay late."
She turned around. "I hate to start something and not finish it."
He looked at his desk. "You finished it?" He walked around his desk, depositing the briefcase in the chair.
She watched him. "My notes are in the folder beside the files."
He opened her folder. There were dozens of pages. "How could you possibly...”?
He started flipping through them. She watched. In some cases she had supplied several precedence to support a single point. There were endnotes and footnotes.
She watched him flip through page after page. "I included some comments. I hope that was alright?"
"Alright... this is..." She was one surprise after another. "I don't know what to say."
She smiled. "Say it's okay so I can go home."
He put down the folder. "Go home. I'll need to stay and look it over." He looked at his watch. "Let me walk you out."
She picked up her bag from the other chair. "That's okay, I'm close to the elevator." She walked toward the door.
He started around his desk. "Really, it's no trouble."
She looked back. "Nonsense, at this rate you'll be here all night. I'm a big girl."
Protection was just an excuse. He wanted to go with her, but she obviously didn't want the company. "Well, then, I guess it's good night. I'll see you tomorrow... Thanks."
"I'll check with you tomorrow." She stepped into the hallway, and then looked back. "Thanks for offering to walk me out."
"You're welcome"
Again their eyes were fixed on one another, and then she turned away and left. He stood, watching the doorway, hoping she'd change her mind. After a few moments it was obvious she wasn't going to. He went back to his chair, sat and started with the top page of her notes.
She walked to the elevator lobby and pressed the Down Button. Her heart rate was up and there was a knot in the middle of her stomach. Otherwise, she felt she had it under control.
***
The elevator door opened on the fifth floor of the garage. Her car was parked at the far end of the building directly in front of her. There were still several cars parked here and there. She left the elevator. Her footsteps echoed off the concrete. As she walked toward her car she felt for her keys inside her bag.
All of her senses peaked at once. The light evening breeze filled her nose with human scent. This one stank, even by human standards. Footsteps approached quickly from behind. Her mind flipped back to the conversation she'd listened in on that morning. She removed her hand from her bag. She walked up to the driver's side door. They were close. She was ready. A hand covered her mouth and a steel blade touched her throat.
The man's mouth was against her ear. "Not a sound bitch. Unlock your fuckin' car."
Sh
e suddenly became the aggressor. The bag fell to the floor. She took his knife hand by the wrist and pulled it away from her throat. He pulled against her grip, and then drove his other fist into her back. She felt the impact, but he was much too weak to hurt her. In one move, she ducked under his arm and wrenched it behind him. There was a loud pop and his arm and shoulder separated. He screamed and went limp in her hands. The knife was still tight in his fist. She took it from him. With a hand full of his hair, she pulled him away from the car and swung him around. He screamed again. It was all he could do to stand up. He was helpless. She held the knife in front of his face, snapped off the blade with her thumb, and then shoved him away from her. He traveled several feet through the air and tumbled along the concrete. She tossed the broken knife away, then stood and watched as he struggled to his feet. His pants and shirt were torn and bloody where he hit the cement. His arm was hanging, dead at his side.
"Goddamn..." He caught his breath. " Son-of-a-bitch, what the fuck are you?"
The connotation bitch, and son-of-a-bitch, didn't bother her so much, but she hated being called a “what” and had no desire to continue this conversation. She made a deliberate move in his direction. He panicked and ran off holding his shoulder and favoring his right leg. She watched until he disappeared down the ramp. What she'd done wasn't going to make the little red head feel any better. She would have to enjoy it for both of them.
She retrieved her bag. With any luck, she might even get a chance to run over the little bastard.
CHAPTER THREE
It was another clear morning and still no word from the Council. The drive in wasn't much different from the day before. She tried leaving a half an hour earlier. The traffic all but erased her head start. She wound up parking on the sixth floor. There had to be a solution. The people parked on the five floors below her knew what it was.
Margaret walked into her shared office space. Two of the girls were sitting together discussing somebody named Gary from the mailroom. They all exchanged good mornings and the other two went back to their conversation.
She sat at her desk. She half expected to find her notes with his comments. They weren't there. Another girl walked in carrying a cup of coffee. She thought about her little box. She'd left it in his office the night before. That shouldn't have happened. She'd remembered it on the freeway and almost turned around. It was a very special gift. Maybe, in the back of her mind, she just wanted another reason to see him again. She picked up her bag and left the room.
Lawrence had not gotten home until very late the night before. He'd read through her notes, all thirty-one pages. Philip had laid out the plan of attack. He'd pulled the outline of the case together and now she'd provided the legal precedence to support it. Then she'd gone on to explore two more possibilities and make them work as well. Who the hell was she? What was she doing? He knew the requirements for a Research Assistant. She had too much snap to be satisfied doing a job like that. There had to be something else.
The coffee maker filled the pot. Lawrence sat behind his desk daydreaming and staring into one of the framed pictures from the credenza. He glanced up. Margaret smiled back at him.
He sat the picture on his desk and leaned back. "Well, looks like you made it out all right last night."
"More or less. I hope my notes didn't keep you here too late. My handwriting can be a little difficult."
"Your handwriting's fine." He pointed to a chair. "Sit down, please."
She walked to the chair and sat. "I forgot to ask, how’d your depositions go?"
"Got what I needed. I'm going with your notes the way you gave 'em to me. There was really nothing much I could do to improve on them, but I think we'll stick with Philip's original plan." He paused, watched her, and then realized he was staring and blinked. "Sorry... You mind if I ask you something?"
"No. What?"
"Why do you want to do this?"
"Do what?"
"This...What you're doing."
She smiled. "You're gonna have to be a little more specific than that."
"What you did yesterday was nothing short of amazing. I've never seen anything like it."
"I just did what you asked."
He leaned back. "You did a lot more than what I asked. You explored two completely new perspectives." He leaned toward his desk. "Are you thinking about law school?"
She really didn't want to get into this conversation. "No. Looking up something in a book is a long way from selling it in a court. I'm just good with books. I remember most of what I read."
"It's not all that difficult." He said. "If you go in with your facts straight and cover your back side."
"If it's that easy, why aren't you pleading the cases instead of doing... this?"
He picked up the picture off the desk and motioned around the room with it. "This is what I wanta do." She looked at him and did a “palms up”. He conceded. "Okay, okay... You made your point."
She looked past him to the credenza. "Did you take them all yourself?"
He glanced around at the credenza, "They're all mine”, and then back. “And, thanks to you, in two days I'm gonna be standing in the middle of this one." He turned the picture toward her. It was a view from a mountaintop. The mist in the valley was rising and the sun was making it glisten.
"It's very pretty. But what do you mean, thanks to me?"
"As soon as your notes are typed, I'm outta here for two weeks."
She wasn't sure what he meant. "Two weeks?"
"Yeah, two weeks in the mountains. I've been planning six months for this vacation."
She knew what a vacation was. She felt both sorry and glad at the same time. "When do you leave?"
"My truck's packed and waiting for me in the garage. If everything gets done, I'll be outta here this afternoon."
She took a deep breath. "Well, I hope you enjoy your vacation. The other reason I dropped by. Did you find a small, metal box? I left it in here last night."
He slid open his middle desk drawer and took out the curious little box. He closed the drawer and set the box forward on his desk. "What's the stuff in it?"
She reached and picked it up. "It's an herb tea." She stood with her bag and dropped the box inside. "Well, I guess I'd better get started on those notes."
He stood up. “First things first. Mr. Ward wants to discuss something with you this morning."
"Why, what's going on?"
"I called him at home last night. He wants to see you."
"That's not an answer."
"I learned a long time ago not to steal somebody else's thunder. Especially the boss'."
She was confused. What did the weather have to do with anything? "Thunder? What are you talking about?"
He ignored the question. "Will you have lunch with me?"
She noticed, but let it go. "I thought you were leaving?"
"I'm gonna be driving all afternoon and most of the night. I'm not gonna start on an empty stomach. How about it?"
She hesitated, this time not for appearances sake. She wanted to, but...
Her hesitation scared him. She was going to say no. He wouldn't give her the chance. "Look, it's just my way of saying thanks for getting me outta here almost a week early. What do you say?"
She knew better, but what the hell. " Okay, the cafeteria across the street. They say they have a cheesecake to kill for."
"You mean, die for."
"Whatever. I'll meet you in the lobby at noon."
"Great..."
She walked to the door. "I'm glad what I did turned out okay."
His eyes followed her. He was thinking. God, you're beautiful. "See you later." He said.
She smiled and left his office. It was for the best. In two weeks, what she was feeling would pass.
He had second thoughts about leaving for two weeks.
***
Her meeting with Philip Ward created an interesting turn of events. He was so impressed with what she had done, that after the short intervi
ew, he offered her the chance to fill in for Lawrence while he was gone. Lawrence had even approved the use of his office.
From what she knew of office politics, being shown this kind of favoritism could cause problems with the other workers. The smart thing to do was relocate to somewhere else. Leaving would solve her other problem as well. It was the smart thing to do... She accepted his offer.
***
Lawrence stood in the lobby fidgeting and watching each elevator as it emptied out. Finally she was there. He waved at her. She looked in his direction. He waved again, and then met her half way.
Glancing at her watch, "Am I late?"
"No, I'm early." They started for the street entrance together. "I hate to be late. Did you see Mr. Ward?"
She didn't answer at first, then stopped at the entrance and looked him. "Yes, and we need to talk about that."
"What's to talk about? It's a great opportunity."
"You might have asked me first."
Lawrence rubbed the back of his head. He was a little confused. Why wouldn't she want it? He thought, holding the door for her as they left the building. He wanted to know more about her. Maybe lunch would get her to open up a little.
CHAPTER FOUR
The cafeteria handled its usual lunch crowd. Lawrence and Margaret joined the end of the line. Margaret was ahead of him. She asked for the fruit salad and the server handed it to her. Lawrence chose a green salad. She had no real taste for animal protein and stopped in front of the vegetable steam line.
Lawrence looked at the server. "The roast beef, please." While his plate was being filled he watched her. She selected four vegetables. The server passed him his plate. He looked at her tray. "Vegetarian?"
She glanced at his selection and said, "Most of the time."
The line moved on. He paused to get a bowl of mashed potatoes and gravy, and a bowl of fried okra. She passed the desserts without taking anything.