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about non-work related
topics and maintain the appearance of diligence. Of course there’s
always a chance I’d arrive back at my cubicle with fifty extra
copies of something that didn’t belong to me, but it was all part
of the art of paper wrangling.
    The machine’s chugging filled the silence
between me and the man I’d just propositioned.
    I said, “Well, my last name is Frank. Get it?
You don’t have to ask me out. Just make up something about it being
against the rules for you to see a case witness on the side.”
    “ You’re not exactly a witness,” said
Gus. Was that a good sign? He added, “You haven’t asked me if I’m
single or not.”
    “ I’ve been in denial.”
    “ Well, I am single at present. I’ve
been married three times, though. My wives keep ending up
dead.”
    My hands stuttered briefly on the staple I
was trying to remove, and I didn’t look up. My thought process at
this moment indicated the sorry, lust-stricken shape I was in. I
didn’t think, What happened to all those poor women? but Would I
end up dead if I just took him to a hotel for a couple hours? Then
from the corner of my eye I realized that Gus was grinning.
    “ Are you trying to be funny,
Detective?”
    “ So, Carol My-Last-Name-Is-Frank,” said
Gus, giving me a more appraising look. “What would happen if I
asked you to lunch?”
    “ I would inform you that I’m free every
day from twelve to one, and though that’s a very strict time frame
it’s best for me to adhere to it. If that’s too rigid, most of the
time I have weekends off.”
    “ Your boss Bill, he’s kind of
anal-retentive, isn’t he?”
    “ He’s obsessive-compulsive six ways
from Sunday,” I replied without any feelings of betrayal. “In a
way, that makes him very easy to work for.”
    “ How so?”
    “ Predictability is something that a
secretary can appreciate.” I tried to find a way to explain this.
“There’s a code word for certain types of bosses among clerical
people: ‘detail-oriented.’ This is a nice way to say that someone
is a nit-picking pain in the ass. A psychotic sadist I used to work
for called himself ‘detail-oriented’ which meant that he didn’t
feel any qualms about shouting at people for whatever detail he was
oriented on at the moment. Bill is detail-oriented, but he’s always
detail-oriented in the same way. Figure out the details and
everything else is smooth sailing. And he has never shouted at
me.”
    “ I’ve heard a saying that God is in the
details.”
    “ The way I heard it is that the devil
is in the details,” I countered. “Personally I believe the more
important issue is whether Carol My-Last-Name-Is-Frank is in the
details. I’m very good at what I do.”
    I handed him a stack of copies from the file
of Adrienne Maxwell and said, “It doesn’t have to be lunch,
either.”

*****
    I hadn’t been on many dates since my divorce.
Well, let’s be honest. I had been on five dates since my divorce.
These had, all five, been nice times spent with nice enough guys,
but nothing I wanted to pursue. I had a bad feeling about men for a
while there, even lost interest in sex; I had to recover.
    Throwing myself into work was one way to get
on with my life, especially since at about the same time I escaped
from a bad marriage I had also escaped from the psychotic sadist I
worked for and got a good job working for Bill Nestor. But throwing
oneself into work is a terrible way to meet guys. At least it is at
MBS&K. Same office, day in and day out, working mostly among
other women? They’re happy to set you up, if you would like to go
out with their husband’s little brother who just got out of prison
after a four-year sentence for drug possession, or with their nice
friend from church who is still in love with his ex-wife but is
willing to take you out if you’ll hear his testimonial about the
saving power of Jesus.
    The men at MBS&K were married, attorneys,
married attorneys, or unmarried attorneys