"Good afternoon, Mrs. Locke," a handsome receptionist said
cheerfully.
"Hello, Sheldon," Greta said with an effusive smile. Such a
charming young man. He knew how to treat a distinguished woman.
As she headed away, her peripheral vision caught the young man
lifting the telephone handset, warning the executive secretaries
that she was on her way.
So well trained, she thought, a sudden hush falling over the
executive area. As she marched along the row of offices, each of
the secretaries graced her with a smile and a greeting.
"Greta," Matthew's secretary Eileen said with deliberate
flatness.
Greta marched past her desk without so much as a glance and went
straight into her husband's office.
Eileen came in behind her. "He's gone to lunch next door," she
said. "Can I help you with something?"
Lingering for a few moments, she examined several documents on
Matthew's desk with feigned interest. Satisfied, she cleared her
throat and walked out of the office. Neither of the two women
wished the other any sort of day, good, bad or otherwise.
She made her way back to the elevators.
The elevator rang, and someone ran past her and boarded it.
"Please hold that," she called out. Taking her time to reach the
elevator, a pleasurable knowledge swept through her; whoever the
person in the elevator was, he or she would hold the door for
her.
Pages:
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370
371
372
373
374
375
376