returned to Ted's office
feeling confident that Brad would handle the situation.
Noticing
Maggie waiting at his office door with a cup of hot coffee brought relief to
Brad’s face. How she knew just when he
would arrive each day, was puzzling. Smiling reassuringly, she handed him his favorite cup then quietly
closed the door. As she waited
patiently, the large winged chair facing Brad’s desk swallowed her short chunky
frame.
Sipping
his steaming brew, Brad approached a wall of glass to survey Central Park. The day was almost over and he had just
arrived. While others wallowed in the
pleasures of their families and settled down to make love, he would be in his
office muddling through the day's catastrophes, a nocturnal habit that for some
sick reason kept his sanity. The stacks
of proposals scattered on his massive desk required total concentration,
impossible while trying to resolve complaints from office staff and returning
incessant phone calls.
He
could not remember the last time he had a woman, he reflected, why, on earth,
such a thought came to mind, baffled him. Lung’s sucking in spoiled oxygen closed his eyes briefly. Upon reopening them, for the first time he
noticed the leaves on the tree's boasting a kaleidoscope of color's, the sunset
adding to their radiance against the cloudless blue sky, the color of Sam's
eyes.
Pinching
his lids with his forefinger and thumb, endeavoring to dismiss Sam's vision allowed
concentrating on the scene before him. Horses hitched to carriages along the curb-awaited lovers. The park was alive with its usual occupants,
joggers, roller bladder’s, and bench potatoes either feeding pigeons or simply
soaking up the autumn air. There were
people walking dogs, moms, and dads with children in hand. Between the tree's, a patrol car waiting for
a possible assailant, a sight making him question why he continued to reside in such a hell hole of a city.
Gnawing
at him, reminding him of the stiffness in the back of his neck was the yearning
to leave the stuffy office to take a walk with Sam. His right hand stretched up to massage the
tight muscles in an attempt to rub out the soreness from previous days of
leaning over the desk, and wandering thoughts of a half-pint cowgirl.
Fret
and concern creased Maggie's forehead. Brad looked fatigued. He had lost
weight and had misplaced his typical full-of-hell disposition. In ten years working as his secretary, she
never saw him look so exhausted. Knowing
he was too proud to lean on anyone, she stifled attempts to pry. Besides, she knew who the culprit was. How she would like to take a switch to Ted's
behind she thought, as she had done to her four children.
Maggie
loved Brad. He had a magical way of
boring his way into everyone's heart. Memories came flooding of his concern during her major surgery, his
influence in getting her son into college and financial support when she
divorced an abusive husband. Joining
her family for many a meal, he spent hours playing with her children, and
whenever she was depressed, he was there with a kiss and reassuring hug.
Now
having watched him work diligently, tirelessly to build his empire, she
wondered if he would allow success to destroy him. Concerns she kept to herself. Instead, positioning herself next to him,
clasping his hand in hers she gave it a loving squeeze.
Turning,
Brad admired the woman of indeterminate age, her short pristine salt, and
pepper hair. Maggie was a sweet,
sensible, attractive woman, to whom tact and discretion were second
nature. Her tailored suits never saw a
wrinkle or showed her cleavage. She
never reeked of
feeling confident that Brad would handle the situation.
Noticing
Maggie waiting at his office door with a cup of hot coffee brought relief to
Brad’s face. How she knew just when he
would arrive each day, was puzzling. Smiling reassuringly, she handed him his favorite cup then quietly
closed the door. As she waited
patiently, the large winged chair facing Brad’s desk swallowed her short chunky
frame.
Sipping
his steaming brew, Brad approached a wall of glass to survey Central Park. The day was almost over and he had just
arrived. While others wallowed in the
pleasures of their families and settled down to make love, he would be in his
office muddling through the day's catastrophes, a nocturnal habit that for some
sick reason kept his sanity. The stacks
of proposals scattered on his massive desk required total concentration,
impossible while trying to resolve complaints from office staff and returning
incessant phone calls.
He
could not remember the last time he had a woman, he reflected, why, on earth,
such a thought came to mind, baffled him. Lung’s sucking in spoiled oxygen closed his eyes briefly. Upon reopening them, for the first time he
noticed the leaves on the tree's boasting a kaleidoscope of color's, the sunset
adding to their radiance against the cloudless blue sky, the color of Sam's
eyes.
Pinching
his lids with his forefinger and thumb, endeavoring to dismiss Sam's vision allowed
concentrating on the scene before him. Horses hitched to carriages along the curb-awaited lovers. The park was alive with its usual occupants,
joggers, roller bladder’s, and bench potatoes either feeding pigeons or simply
soaking up the autumn air. There were
people walking dogs, moms, and dads with children in hand. Between the tree's, a patrol car waiting for
a possible assailant, a sight making him question why he continued to reside in such a hell hole of a city.
Gnawing
at him, reminding him of the stiffness in the back of his neck was the yearning
to leave the stuffy office to take a walk with Sam. His right hand stretched up to massage the
tight muscles in an attempt to rub out the soreness from previous days of
leaning over the desk, and wandering thoughts of a half-pint cowgirl.
Fret
and concern creased Maggie's forehead. Brad looked fatigued. He had lost
weight and had misplaced his typical full-of-hell disposition. In ten years working as his secretary, she
never saw him look so exhausted. Knowing
he was too proud to lean on anyone, she stifled attempts to pry. Besides, she knew who the culprit was. How she would like to take a switch to Ted's
behind she thought, as she had done to her four children.
Maggie
loved Brad. He had a magical way of
boring his way into everyone's heart. Memories came flooding of his concern during her major surgery, his
influence in getting her son into college and financial support when she
divorced an abusive husband. Joining
her family for many a meal, he spent hours playing with her children, and
whenever she was depressed, he was there with a kiss and reassuring hug.
Now
having watched him work diligently, tirelessly to build his empire, she
wondered if he would allow success to destroy him. Concerns she kept to herself. Instead, positioning herself next to him,
clasping his hand in hers she gave it a loving squeeze.
Turning,
Brad admired the woman of indeterminate age, her short pristine salt, and
pepper hair. Maggie was a sweet,
sensible, attractive woman, to whom tact and discretion were second
nature. Her tailored suits never saw a
wrinkle or showed her cleavage. She
never reeked of
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