Much better this morning.
Suit passable. Shirt needs to make friends with an iron.
Smells ok. Motel soap. Irish Spring, disgusting but better than b.o.
God, so beautiful.
I herd him into my cubicle.
"You can call me Patrick."
Nope, I can not call him Patrick. That wouldn't be consistent with my plan.
I stare at him looking like I wish he would disappear.
God, I wish I could touch him.
"You were hoping I wouldn't come back?"
"Yes," i say simply in keeping with the straight talking, hard-nosed boss I'm playing right now. Let him think I'm translucent.
He's very smart. But still buying into me as a tough nut to crack.
Good.
Can't weaken now. Got to keep him wanting my approval.
"Frankly, I don't think you should look at the files."
"Your boss said I could."
If Minelli hadn't played right into my hands by offering to let him see the files, that last crack would piss me off. I'd be tempted to take Patrick over my knee and spank him for invoking my supervisor's name.
Plenty of time for that.
"I should probably start a new life. I can't."
Don't be so sure of that, Patrick.
If the plan goes right, jumpstart will be more the term.
Better yet, hotwire.