Back to the Ol' Grindstone

One: Charlotte


It hadn't taken Michael long to figure out that Charlotte, the chubby, perky
secretary with huge blue eyes and a chirpy tone, was just putting on a facade. As
angry as he had been when she constantly passed his cubicle and sweetly called out
his full name, it made him even angrier to realize that she had been teasing him the
whole time. It wasn't hard to figure out after that one day in the break room when she
collapsed on the sofa next to Samir.

"God, I need a cigarette," she said in a deep alto voice neither young man was
accustomed to. When she caught them staring, her eyes narrowed and she held out one
chubby palm impatiently. "That wasn't a soliloquoy, that was a request."
Stunned, Michael fished into his pocket and pulled out his packet of Marlboros,
holding it out to her. She wrinkled her nose as she touched the box.

"Don't you have any Misty Lights?"

"Sorry, I'm fresh out," Michael said sarcastically, snatching the cigarettes back
and shoving them into his pocket again.

They had formed a tentative truce after that; she wouldn't make fun of his name
anymore, and in return, he would stop telling Fat Larry in accounting false rumors
about her holding a torch for him. She still pronounced Samir's name incorrectly,
though; that part wasn't an act.