Read Online Slightly Irregular by Rhonda Pollero - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Rhonda Pollero
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morning,” I greeted as I strolled past her, my heels clicking rhythmically until I reached the elevator.
Margaret’s “Morning” was offered to my back, but I heard the resentment on every letter. She prided herself on being early to work. Normally, I was satisfied if I started being productive before ten.
I headed back up to the fourth floor. My not-so-best-friend Leslie-Anne sat stiffly behind her desk. “May I help you?” she asked.
I shook my head. “Just going back to retrieve some things from my meeting, but thanks.”
Ellen wasn’t in the conference room but all the paperwork was just as we’d left it. I folded what needed to be folded, then placed everything neatly back into the manila folder with EGGHARDT typed neatly on the label. With that accomplished, I took two coffee mugs—mine and Lenora’s—rinsed them, andplaced them into the custom washer hidden inside one of the cabinets. I was a little surprised that Ellen still hadn’t returned.
Walking over to the window, I glanced out through the darkened mirrored windows. The view faced southwest, allowing me to see some of the West Palm skyline and a sliver of the parking lot. My attention instantly went to the parking lot. Someone—a woman—stood behind Ellen’s Volvo, and it looked like she was copying the license plate number. That was weird. Well, maybe not. The woman was wearing dark blue or black shorts, a short-sleeve white shirt, functional black walking shoes, and a dark baseball cap with her blond ponytail pulled through the back. She looked like a traffic enforcement officer. I smiled slowly. Apparently, one of the other things I’d never known about my boss was she either didn’t pay her parking tickets or she’d left the scene of an accident.
Since I couldn’t see Ellen leaving the scene, I’d already decided she was about to do penance for ignoring tickets. But I was really having a hard time believing that, either. She struck me as the type of person who followed every rule to the letter. It had to be a mistake, but at least it would inconvenience her, which was penance enough for having dragged me in at the crack of dawn.
I turned around when I heard a sound behind me. It was Ellen, two large shopping bags draped over each arm. I probably should have mentioned the thing with her car and would have if the next words out of her mouth hadn’t been, “I need you to drop these off at the thrift store.”
Saturday I’m a babysitter, and Monday I’m a Sherpa? Don’t remember any of those being in my job description. I stared blankly.
Ellen let out a slow breath and smiled at me. “I’m not trying to be demeaning, I’m just asking a favor. I meant to get these to the St. Luke’s Thrift Shop in West Palm over the weekend, but the time got away from me. The store is on your way home from work.”
“But it closes at five.”
“Then leave early.”
I went over and relieved her of the bags. “Done.”
Never send a high-maintenance woman to a low-maintained town.
five
By the time I reached my office, the weight of Ellen’s bags had left red lines on my wrists and forearms. After tossing the Egghardt file on my desk, I placed the bags on the floor, then gently shoved them against the wall with my foot. In no time, my office began to smell like cedar. I knew the bags were filled with clothing and couldn’t wait to secretly go through them. I don’t think there’s a big market for muumuus and ugly sandals at the West Palm Beach thrift store. But it would be fun to see what Ellen considered donation material.
Well, that would have to wait.
I filled a new mug with coffee, sat down, and wiggled my mouse until my computer came out of hibernation. Since I’d lost my bid on the watch face and still needed a lot of Rolex parts, I skipped checking my e-mail and went straight to eBay. I found a couple of links and a new listing for a watch face and placed bids on all of them. I could almost hear Jane’s voice inmy head
Margaret’s “Morning” was offered to my back, but I heard the resentment on every letter. She prided herself on being early to work. Normally, I was satisfied if I started being productive before ten.
I headed back up to the fourth floor. My not-so-best-friend Leslie-Anne sat stiffly behind her desk. “May I help you?” she asked.
I shook my head. “Just going back to retrieve some things from my meeting, but thanks.”
Ellen wasn’t in the conference room but all the paperwork was just as we’d left it. I folded what needed to be folded, then placed everything neatly back into the manila folder with EGGHARDT typed neatly on the label. With that accomplished, I took two coffee mugs—mine and Lenora’s—rinsed them, andplaced them into the custom washer hidden inside one of the cabinets. I was a little surprised that Ellen still hadn’t returned.
Walking over to the window, I glanced out through the darkened mirrored windows. The view faced southwest, allowing me to see some of the West Palm skyline and a sliver of the parking lot. My attention instantly went to the parking lot. Someone—a woman—stood behind Ellen’s Volvo, and it looked like she was copying the license plate number. That was weird. Well, maybe not. The woman was wearing dark blue or black shorts, a short-sleeve white shirt, functional black walking shoes, and a dark baseball cap with her blond ponytail pulled through the back. She looked like a traffic enforcement officer. I smiled slowly. Apparently, one of the other things I’d never known about my boss was she either didn’t pay her parking tickets or she’d left the scene of an accident.
Since I couldn’t see Ellen leaving the scene, I’d already decided she was about to do penance for ignoring tickets. But I was really having a hard time believing that, either. She struck me as the type of person who followed every rule to the letter. It had to be a mistake, but at least it would inconvenience her, which was penance enough for having dragged me in at the crack of dawn.
I turned around when I heard a sound behind me. It was Ellen, two large shopping bags draped over each arm. I probably should have mentioned the thing with her car and would have if the next words out of her mouth hadn’t been, “I need you to drop these off at the thrift store.”
Saturday I’m a babysitter, and Monday I’m a Sherpa? Don’t remember any of those being in my job description. I stared blankly.
Ellen let out a slow breath and smiled at me. “I’m not trying to be demeaning, I’m just asking a favor. I meant to get these to the St. Luke’s Thrift Shop in West Palm over the weekend, but the time got away from me. The store is on your way home from work.”
“But it closes at five.”
“Then leave early.”
I went over and relieved her of the bags. “Done.”
Never send a high-maintenance woman to a low-maintained town.
five
By the time I reached my office, the weight of Ellen’s bags had left red lines on my wrists and forearms. After tossing the Egghardt file on my desk, I placed the bags on the floor, then gently shoved them against the wall with my foot. In no time, my office began to smell like cedar. I knew the bags were filled with clothing and couldn’t wait to secretly go through them. I don’t think there’s a big market for muumuus and ugly sandals at the West Palm Beach thrift store. But it would be fun to see what Ellen considered donation material.
Well, that would have to wait.
I filled a new mug with coffee, sat down, and wiggled my mouse until my computer came out of hibernation. Since I’d lost my bid on the watch face and still needed a lot of Rolex parts, I skipped checking my e-mail and went straight to eBay. I found a couple of links and a new listing for a watch face and placed bids on all of them. I could almost hear Jane’s voice inmy head
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