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Authors: Michael Scott, Colette Freedman
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her mother.
As she hurried down the street, Sarah felt a guilty stab of relief that Judith had gone. Despite her frustration with the direction her life was taking, Sarah appreciated order, and Judith had certainly put a minor wrench in her comfortably regimented life. She still couldn’t quite fathom what had come over her yesterday. First, she had come to a stranger’s aid, and after that…things had become a little hazy. Well, it was over now: a brief show of courage in an otherwise cowardly life.
She grinned, wondering if perhaps she had finally shown a spark of the latent potential within her. Perhaps this was the beginning of a new future, one filled with hope and possibility. Yet as she entered the dull gray bank building and headed toward her suffocating cubicle, she guessed that her life was destined to continue along its same staid, dreary path.
Sarah’s phone was ringing as she approached her desk.
“Hello?”
“I would like to speak with Sarah Miller.” The voice was male, cultured, and colored with the vague hint of an unidentifiable accent.
Sarah frowned. Only her clients had this number, and this voice was unfamiliar. “This is Sarah Miller.”
“Sarah Miller of Pine Grove, Crawley?”
“Yes. To whom am I speaking?”
“You bravely came to the assistance of an elderly woman yesterday. A Judith Walker. You then proceeded to her home in Bath—”
“Just who exactly is this?”
“She gave you something rather important that belongs to me. And I would very much like for you to return home now and get it for me, please.”
“I don’t know what kind of prank you’re playing, but this is a business line. Now if you’ll excuse me—”
The line popped and crackled, the voice echoing slightly: “My representatives will call to your address at precisely noon. I strongly suggest you be there, with the artifact Walker gave you.”
“But she gave me nothing…,” she began, but the line clicked and went dead.
The phone immediately rang again.
“Look, Judith Walker didn’t give me anything—”
“Sarah, it’s Hannah. Seth…Mr. Hinkle would like to see you in his office immediately.”
“I’ll be right there.” Sarah took a deep breath: The repercussions of her actions had just begun. Dismissing the peculiar phone call, she hurried down the long corridor to her boss’s corner office.
Seth Hinkle would have once been considered attractive. Yet the fifty-year-old had spent so many years in his role as a corporate drone that his creative brain had all but atrophied. Now, in a six-hundred-pound tailored suit that barely concealed his bulging belly, nourished by too many late night pints at the local pub in an attempt to avoid going home to his shrill wife and needy twins, Seth Hinkle stood against the window and prepared to pontificate.
Sarah sat down silently.
“As laudable as I find your recent actions, I must remind you that I am running a business here.” Seth postured in a way that the backlight of the morning sun formed a disturbing aura around him.
He’d been practicing this, Sarah realized.
“If you cannot accommodate our rather simple rules, then perhaps it might be better if you were to look for other employment.” Mr. Hinkle was unable to meet her eyes. He looked away quickly when they both realized that his eyes were fixed in the center of Sarah’s chest. “In normal circumstances, I would be left with no alternative but to dismiss you. However,” he continued slowly, mouth twisting as if he’d tasted something sour, “Sir Simon phoned this office not six minutes ago.”
Sarah tried to suppress a giggle. With his sibilant speech, Seth Hinkle sounded like a sputtering snake as he mentioned the senior partner’s name.
“Are you all right, Miss Miller?”
“Fine, sir, just a bit of a tickle in the back of my throat. You were saying?”
“It seems a Judith Walker contacted Sir Simon this morning. She was extremely complimentary about you and your
As she hurried down the street, Sarah felt a guilty stab of relief that Judith had gone. Despite her frustration with the direction her life was taking, Sarah appreciated order, and Judith had certainly put a minor wrench in her comfortably regimented life. She still couldn’t quite fathom what had come over her yesterday. First, she had come to a stranger’s aid, and after that…things had become a little hazy. Well, it was over now: a brief show of courage in an otherwise cowardly life.
She grinned, wondering if perhaps she had finally shown a spark of the latent potential within her. Perhaps this was the beginning of a new future, one filled with hope and possibility. Yet as she entered the dull gray bank building and headed toward her suffocating cubicle, she guessed that her life was destined to continue along its same staid, dreary path.
Sarah’s phone was ringing as she approached her desk.
“Hello?”
“I would like to speak with Sarah Miller.” The voice was male, cultured, and colored with the vague hint of an unidentifiable accent.
Sarah frowned. Only her clients had this number, and this voice was unfamiliar. “This is Sarah Miller.”
“Sarah Miller of Pine Grove, Crawley?”
“Yes. To whom am I speaking?”
“You bravely came to the assistance of an elderly woman yesterday. A Judith Walker. You then proceeded to her home in Bath—”
“Just who exactly is this?”
“She gave you something rather important that belongs to me. And I would very much like for you to return home now and get it for me, please.”
“I don’t know what kind of prank you’re playing, but this is a business line. Now if you’ll excuse me—”
The line popped and crackled, the voice echoing slightly: “My representatives will call to your address at precisely noon. I strongly suggest you be there, with the artifact Walker gave you.”
“But she gave me nothing…,” she began, but the line clicked and went dead.
The phone immediately rang again.
“Look, Judith Walker didn’t give me anything—”
“Sarah, it’s Hannah. Seth…Mr. Hinkle would like to see you in his office immediately.”
“I’ll be right there.” Sarah took a deep breath: The repercussions of her actions had just begun. Dismissing the peculiar phone call, she hurried down the long corridor to her boss’s corner office.
Seth Hinkle would have once been considered attractive. Yet the fifty-year-old had spent so many years in his role as a corporate drone that his creative brain had all but atrophied. Now, in a six-hundred-pound tailored suit that barely concealed his bulging belly, nourished by too many late night pints at the local pub in an attempt to avoid going home to his shrill wife and needy twins, Seth Hinkle stood against the window and prepared to pontificate.
Sarah sat down silently.
“As laudable as I find your recent actions, I must remind you that I am running a business here.” Seth postured in a way that the backlight of the morning sun formed a disturbing aura around him.
He’d been practicing this, Sarah realized.
“If you cannot accommodate our rather simple rules, then perhaps it might be better if you were to look for other employment.” Mr. Hinkle was unable to meet her eyes. He looked away quickly when they both realized that his eyes were fixed in the center of Sarah’s chest. “In normal circumstances, I would be left with no alternative but to dismiss you. However,” he continued slowly, mouth twisting as if he’d tasted something sour, “Sir Simon phoned this office not six minutes ago.”
Sarah tried to suppress a giggle. With his sibilant speech, Seth Hinkle sounded like a sputtering snake as he mentioned the senior partner’s name.
“Are you all right, Miss Miller?”
“Fine, sir, just a bit of a tickle in the back of my throat. You were saying?”
“It seems a Judith Walker contacted Sir Simon this morning. She was extremely complimentary about you and your
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