just the usual click, clack.
The following morning Harry got to the office early to be certain to be there when Mr. Wentworth arrived. He double-checked the Compton & Brisbane folders to be sure they were ready, then tried to get involved with another job, but found it impossible to concentrate as he involuntarily continued to look toward the door, his right leg bouncing up and down on the ball of his foot.
He did not want to be drinking coffee and eating his usual danish when Mr. Wentworth came in, so he passed them up this morning, and now he wished he had something to wash that metallic taste out of his mouth and feed that active hunger in his gut. It seemed like every part of his body was itchy with apprehension, even the tips of his hair. He tried to freeze a look of deep and absolute concentration on his face, but it felt like his skin would crack.
Thank God, Wentworth finally got there. Harry could feel his pulse in his temples and the sweat on his chest and
(48)
under his eyes; could feel his heart pounding in his throat and his stomach twisting and turning. He followed Mr. Went-worth with his eyes, ready to smile if he should look at him, but he just continued to his office.
Then Harry waited— And waited— For eternal minutes. He could not believe that time could move so slowly, or that he could feel so sick. He had to constantly swallow his nausea, and those thumbs on his eyes were pressing harder and harder. He sat waiting for Mr. Wentworth to buzz him, his foot bounding uncontrollably, all the power of his mind focused on the control of his anal sphincter muscle. His skin felt as if it were being flushed with molten lead, and he knew that any minute he would leap up from his desk and start to scream and scream and scream and he fought hard to swallow his scream over and over again along with his nausea. He could feel the sweat stinging the small of his back and the toes in his right foot started to cramp, and when the buzzer finally screeched in his ear his skin almost peeled from his bones.
Come in here White. Harry could not believe it, but he was actually dizzy when he stood. What the hell is wrong? This is insane. He tried to adjust the serious business look on his face, but his mind and body were so alive and active with emotions that he had no idea what he looked like, but knew he felt like a leprous sheep being led to slaughter. He was so overwhelmed, not only by all these feelings, but also by the fact that he should be experiencing such feelings, that he was almost unable to get from his desk to Mr. Wentworths office. He again tried to pull on a look of self-assurance and entered the office.
You picked one hell of a time to screw off, White!
Im sorry Mr.—
Never mind the stories. I dont have time for them. Fortunately I was able to talk their people around not needing the data I did not have with me yesterday, so we have not lost the account, yet—a sigh inside of Harry went kerflop—no thanks to you. But time will only tell. Now, heres the data I took yesterday, tossing a couple of file folders on the desk, get all
(49)
the information properly assembled. I am going to meet with them again next week. I had to do a back-breaking selling job, yesterday, to get that appointment, so make certain everything is ready. Got it?
Yes sir. I/ll—
I will be dictating some extensive notes to Mrs. Wills today, and she/ll give you a copy of them when they are transcribed. I want you to be absolutely certain that you incorporate the salient facts properly in our summary.
Yes sir, nodding his head, I/ll—
I want this proposal so perfect that it sells itself. Got me? Perfect!
Yes sir, nodding his head and picking up the files.
And one more thing, Harry standing erect and trying to look alert. This business of strolling off in the afternoon— Harry swallowing hard and praying for survival—it has ended. You understand? Ended!
Yes sir, standing stiff, afraid to
The following morning Harry got to the office early to be certain to be there when Mr. Wentworth arrived. He double-checked the Compton & Brisbane folders to be sure they were ready, then tried to get involved with another job, but found it impossible to concentrate as he involuntarily continued to look toward the door, his right leg bouncing up and down on the ball of his foot.
He did not want to be drinking coffee and eating his usual danish when Mr. Wentworth came in, so he passed them up this morning, and now he wished he had something to wash that metallic taste out of his mouth and feed that active hunger in his gut. It seemed like every part of his body was itchy with apprehension, even the tips of his hair. He tried to freeze a look of deep and absolute concentration on his face, but it felt like his skin would crack.
Thank God, Wentworth finally got there. Harry could feel his pulse in his temples and the sweat on his chest and
(48)
under his eyes; could feel his heart pounding in his throat and his stomach twisting and turning. He followed Mr. Went-worth with his eyes, ready to smile if he should look at him, but he just continued to his office.
Then Harry waited— And waited— For eternal minutes. He could not believe that time could move so slowly, or that he could feel so sick. He had to constantly swallow his nausea, and those thumbs on his eyes were pressing harder and harder. He sat waiting for Mr. Wentworth to buzz him, his foot bounding uncontrollably, all the power of his mind focused on the control of his anal sphincter muscle. His skin felt as if it were being flushed with molten lead, and he knew that any minute he would leap up from his desk and start to scream and scream and scream and he fought hard to swallow his scream over and over again along with his nausea. He could feel the sweat stinging the small of his back and the toes in his right foot started to cramp, and when the buzzer finally screeched in his ear his skin almost peeled from his bones.
Come in here White. Harry could not believe it, but he was actually dizzy when he stood. What the hell is wrong? This is insane. He tried to adjust the serious business look on his face, but his mind and body were so alive and active with emotions that he had no idea what he looked like, but knew he felt like a leprous sheep being led to slaughter. He was so overwhelmed, not only by all these feelings, but also by the fact that he should be experiencing such feelings, that he was almost unable to get from his desk to Mr. Wentworths office. He again tried to pull on a look of self-assurance and entered the office.
You picked one hell of a time to screw off, White!
Im sorry Mr.—
Never mind the stories. I dont have time for them. Fortunately I was able to talk their people around not needing the data I did not have with me yesterday, so we have not lost the account, yet—a sigh inside of Harry went kerflop—no thanks to you. But time will only tell. Now, heres the data I took yesterday, tossing a couple of file folders on the desk, get all
(49)
the information properly assembled. I am going to meet with them again next week. I had to do a back-breaking selling job, yesterday, to get that appointment, so make certain everything is ready. Got it?
Yes sir. I/ll—
I will be dictating some extensive notes to Mrs. Wills today, and she/ll give you a copy of them when they are transcribed. I want you to be absolutely certain that you incorporate the salient facts properly in our summary.
Yes sir, nodding his head, I/ll—
I want this proposal so perfect that it sells itself. Got me? Perfect!
Yes sir, nodding his head and picking up the files.
And one more thing, Harry standing erect and trying to look alert. This business of strolling off in the afternoon— Harry swallowing hard and praying for survival—it has ended. You understand? Ended!
Yes sir, standing stiff, afraid to
Similar Books
