Sometimes we want to inject a small amount of information into our work that doesn't seem to fit in anywhere. I wanted to show Jessica and Max alone without our main character being involved in their conversation. Another side to Jessica defending her relationship with Enda while he is absent and a little of her true feelings kept from him - but not from Max.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The clock
on the wall showed two-thirty. Max was still in a meeting and raised voices
indicated he was in full flow. Another ten minutes passed before the meeting
came to an abrupt end. From behind the reeded glass panel in the office door
Jessica saw people rise, their chairs scraping on the floor. The door opened.
Tired looking staff and a cloud of smoke escaped into the passage.
“Jessica, sorry darling, come on in,”
shouted Max.
Jessica fanned her face with a hand and
walked to the bookcase in one corner of the office where a fan stood idle on
top of it. She turned it on and sat in front of it. “Smoking is your pleasure,
Max, not mine. I have no wish to suffer from passive smoking.”
Max pursed his lips, nodded, and then
said, “What can I do for you?”
Enda had finished the articles, apart
from a few finishing touches that needed sorting out, and Max would have them
by the end of the week.
“That’s wonderful. So where is Mr. Angry?”
Max looked toward the door and then back to her. He stubbed the cigar out,
unable to smoke it in the fan’s turbulent draft.
Enda had left the building earlier,
asking her to see Max, while he dashed to pick up some airline tickets for
Cyprus.
“What the hell. What’s he up to now?”
“Enda tells me he hasn’t had a break in a
long time and he’s decided that as the articles are finished, he would take off
for a while.”
Max sat back in his chair with a worried
look on his face. “Is he unwell? This isn’t like Enda, you know.” He chewed on
his bottom lip for a moment then suddenly slapped his forehead. “Has he been
fishing around?”
“Sorry?”
“You know what I mean, Jessica. Has he
been looking for another job? Because if he has, let me tell you, he’ll be in bloody
trouble. He owes this paper, in particular me!”
“No, Max, he wants a break and so do I. I
haven’t had a break in the last two years, apart from visiting my father on a
couple of long weekends.”
Max sighed. “Okay, okay, tell him to call
the office and make the necessary arrangements. You do the same as long as you
don’t have anything pending. Have we got a stand-in for you?”
“Yes, Martha, my art assistant will be
holding the fort.”
“Right, well have a nice break and give
my regards to your father. He’s living in Reims now, isn’t he?” Max stood as
Jessica made to leave.
“Oh, I’m not visiting father this time,”
she said, “I’ve decided to go a little further afield.”
“Where are you going? Somewhere in the
sun, no doubt.”
“Cyprus.”
“Cyprus?”
“Yes, Enda invited me along.”
Max’s mouth was wide open, a smile
creasing his face. “It won’t work, darling, it won’t work. I’ve known Enda a
long time and know when he’s up to something. So what are you two up to?”
“Nothing, Max. We are going on holiday
together.”
“You and Enda – I don’t believe it.
Enda’s…well, Enda’s-.”
“Not my type? Not my class? Too old?” she
snapped, one hand resting on a hip.
“I didn’t mean anything, Jessica.” Max
held his hands up in apology. “It’s just that Enda’s been a confirmed bachelor
for as long as I can remember. I’m surprised, that’s all.”
“You’re assuming there’s something going
on. Enda and I are really are good friends.” Her eyes stared defiantly at Max,
her breasts rising with emotion.
Max sat on the corner of the desk and
ignored her comment. “Is this serious between you two?”
Jessica let the question hang in the air
as she stepped to the door and opened it. Over her shoulder, she said, “There’s
nothing going on, Max.” The door closed behind her.
Max grinned and reached for a fresh
cigar. “The hell there is, Jessica,” he muttered, “just you make sure you bring
that old Irish wolfhound back alive.”
No comments:
Post a Comment