recognize.
“Really?” Jabbar replied. “To whom am I speaking?”
“I would like to meet with you.”
“I meet with no one I don’t know.”
“Do you know who Captain Brooks is, sir?”
Jabbar was one of few who knew the name well. “What is the point of this? I do not have time for nonsense.”
“Meet me tomorrow night at nine at the corner of St. Andrews and Downing.”
“Why should I?”
CLICK.
Jabbar lowered the phone and laid it onto his desk.
“Who was that, sir?” Hannan asked, re-entering the room with a tea set.
“I do not know,” Jabbar said, slightly agitated. His curiosity, as always, would trump his judgement. “I guess we will find out tomorrow.”
*
“Ready for a break, yet?” John asked April Lynn as he exited the Sociology building.
April sat behind a dozen sprawled out books, her eyes tinted a mellow red. “Sure.”
“How about All Bar One? Edible food. Cheap beer.”
She marked a page with yellow tape. “Give me a few minutes.”
John rushed through campus to arrive first and the pub, which was jammed with students and faculty decompressing after a long semester. John managed to secure a table directly in sight of the door.
All Bar One was your typical English college pub. Its central location on campus made it a Cambridge favorite. The inside was crafted of various shades of stained oak. Pictures of the Royal Family adorned the walls, and it reeked of stale beer.
When April entered, she spotted John and went over to sit with him.
“How’d it go with Sorenson?” she nearly shouted, placing her bag on a chair. The pub was known for being loud.
“Good. Very good!”
John noticed April’s lips were shining a fresh bright red, the buttons on her shirt were no longer closed at the top of her chest, and her silken blonde hair had been released from its tie.
She chuckled. “Thank God, right?” She drew out the ‘i’ as if she had spent her entire life in Tennessee.
“I’ll get your drink orders in a second.” The waitress placed two glasses of water and darted off.
What do you drink?” April asked, her eyes scanning the menu.
John was hesitant to risk a common interest by recommending the wrong cocktail. Plus, he found himself fixated on the loose buttons of her blouse.
“What kind of whiskey do they have?” she said.
Whiskey? His jaw dropped even more.
“What can I get you guys?” The waitress seamed to appear out of nowhere, and John was not prepared.
“I’ll have a whiskey and soda,” April said. “Light on the soda.”
“And for you, sir?”
“Uhh...” John’s usual light pilsner was suddenly not an option. “Stout. A local stout. The biggest mug you have.”
“Got it.” The husky waitress disappeared amongst the patrons.
John planned to use that day’s crowd to his advantage. It forced them to lean in a little closer as they conversed, which allowed him better access to her provocative perfume—another addition to her character he had never noticed.
“So what’s your topic?” John asked, wanting their conversation to go smoothly, no awkward pauses.
“How families with special needs children socialize.”
“Okay.” John enthusiastically nodded, fighting the urge to peek down her blouse. Keep your eyes high.
“I’m going to be a social worker,” she went on. “Help families with special needs. My brother has Down Syndrome. It can be hard. My family really needed help growing up, and I want to help others.”
April leaned back to give the waitress room as she lowered their drinks. She pressed out her chest as she arched against the back of the chair. John barely noticed their order had arrived.
“Good for you,” John said when the waitress had walked away.
“It’s a tough industry. We depend on government grants. Politicians are hard to lobby. There aren’t too many votes in our community. You know what I mean?”
April emptied her drink down her throat in one shot. “We’ll see what happens. So,
“Really?” Jabbar replied. “To whom am I speaking?”
“I would like to meet with you.”
“I meet with no one I don’t know.”
“Do you know who Captain Brooks is, sir?”
Jabbar was one of few who knew the name well. “What is the point of this? I do not have time for nonsense.”
“Meet me tomorrow night at nine at the corner of St. Andrews and Downing.”
“Why should I?”
CLICK.
Jabbar lowered the phone and laid it onto his desk.
“Who was that, sir?” Hannan asked, re-entering the room with a tea set.
“I do not know,” Jabbar said, slightly agitated. His curiosity, as always, would trump his judgement. “I guess we will find out tomorrow.”
*
“Ready for a break, yet?” John asked April Lynn as he exited the Sociology building.
April sat behind a dozen sprawled out books, her eyes tinted a mellow red. “Sure.”
“How about All Bar One? Edible food. Cheap beer.”
She marked a page with yellow tape. “Give me a few minutes.”
John rushed through campus to arrive first and the pub, which was jammed with students and faculty decompressing after a long semester. John managed to secure a table directly in sight of the door.
All Bar One was your typical English college pub. Its central location on campus made it a Cambridge favorite. The inside was crafted of various shades of stained oak. Pictures of the Royal Family adorned the walls, and it reeked of stale beer.
When April entered, she spotted John and went over to sit with him.
“How’d it go with Sorenson?” she nearly shouted, placing her bag on a chair. The pub was known for being loud.
“Good. Very good!”
John noticed April’s lips were shining a fresh bright red, the buttons on her shirt were no longer closed at the top of her chest, and her silken blonde hair had been released from its tie.
She chuckled. “Thank God, right?” She drew out the ‘i’ as if she had spent her entire life in Tennessee.
“I’ll get your drink orders in a second.” The waitress placed two glasses of water and darted off.
What do you drink?” April asked, her eyes scanning the menu.
John was hesitant to risk a common interest by recommending the wrong cocktail. Plus, he found himself fixated on the loose buttons of her blouse.
“What kind of whiskey do they have?” she said.
Whiskey? His jaw dropped even more.
“What can I get you guys?” The waitress seamed to appear out of nowhere, and John was not prepared.
“I’ll have a whiskey and soda,” April said. “Light on the soda.”
“And for you, sir?”
“Uhh...” John’s usual light pilsner was suddenly not an option. “Stout. A local stout. The biggest mug you have.”
“Got it.” The husky waitress disappeared amongst the patrons.
John planned to use that day’s crowd to his advantage. It forced them to lean in a little closer as they conversed, which allowed him better access to her provocative perfume—another addition to her character he had never noticed.
“So what’s your topic?” John asked, wanting their conversation to go smoothly, no awkward pauses.
“How families with special needs children socialize.”
“Okay.” John enthusiastically nodded, fighting the urge to peek down her blouse. Keep your eyes high.
“I’m going to be a social worker,” she went on. “Help families with special needs. My brother has Down Syndrome. It can be hard. My family really needed help growing up, and I want to help others.”
April leaned back to give the waitress room as she lowered their drinks. She pressed out her chest as she arched against the back of the chair. John barely noticed their order had arrived.
“Good for you,” John said when the waitress had walked away.
“It’s a tough industry. We depend on government grants. Politicians are hard to lobby. There aren’t too many votes in our community. You know what I mean?”
April emptied her drink down her throat in one shot. “We’ll see what happens. So,
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