X-Ray Vision Ch. 04: Extolled

It was almost the hour. My job to get the office put right, the boss was clearly occupied.

"Folks! Phones live in three minutes! And we're down one. Fortunately I've brought a new guy, everybody, this is Nick! Kelly, would you do the honors, square Nick away? Use my desk; I'll take number 12, or maybe number 2, we'll see."

Number 12 was unoccupied; number 2 was slacker-guy's desk. I didn't see him lasting the morning. Neither did anybody else, by the nodding heads when I mentioned taking number 2.

The crew separated, found their desks. By the time the line went live most folks were ready for it.

Kelly was speed-reading Nick in on the job, Nick was eating it up like candy. They clearly were a good fit, Kelly saying everything once, Nick totally attentive, nodding regularly. By three minutes after they were both seated, answering phones.

I listened in to Nick's first call. Not hard; traffic violation, property damage, some neighbor dispute, hot tempers. Easy peasey, technically a violent crime so a bond was necessary but a local property owner, no flight risk, good job. Nick asked the right stuff, didn't take any guff, quoted the schedule rate, got it.

I left them to it; Kelly could handle Nick; let her do her job.

I checked in with the boss.

"Jill! Would you kindly escort Mr. Dewey to the street? We're all done here."

Dewey looked resigned. There were worse things than being fired. Like being liable for the thousands he'd likely lost the company. I thought he was getting off light.

"Talk to me when you get back from that."

I put a hand on Dewey's shoulder, turned him toward the door, marched him out of the office. He didn't resist; he was a lightweight anyway, a kid really, cake, couldn't have resisted if he'd wanted to. And I had Nick, who I figured could handle herself if I called on her for backup.

All eyes swiveled, followed the walk of shame, Dewey had the good grace to turn red. He walked faster.

In the hall he tried to say he had it from here, I could go back. I was having none of it. Boss said street; I'd see him to the street.

The elevator ride was very quiet. I kind of enjoyed it. No pressure for me, but I could see him sweating. Probably had somebody he'd answer to at home, not looking forward.

I held the street door for him, stood in it as he went down the steps, waited until he was down the block. He didn't look back.

Back up to the boss' office, knocked, went it just as she finished with another phone call.

"My bounty hunter is at the airport, waiting. They won't get far. Have to buy a ticket, she's they're ready for him.

"What I want you to do next is go through the last week, two weeks, find all Dewey's tickets, review them. Call their lawyer, or call the client direct, make sure there's actually somebody on the other end to appear. I don't want any more surprises."

"Do I tell them a story?"

The boss considered. "Tell them, there's an issue with their bond, please answer a few questions and you'll clear it up. Most folks don't want any risk of going to a cell, they'll answer pretty readily.

"In the end, a lawyer looks bad if their client runs. The judge would castigate them, wasting court's valuable time, start refusing bail to their clients in future. Not a reputation a lawyer wants. Used that to your advantage."

"Got it!"

The boss pulled open a file drawer, pulled out two files, handed them over.

I sat at number 2, making a point of it, spreading the files out, began sorting. In ten minutes I had 150 slips. Should have been over 300. Dewey was indeed a slacker. Made it easier for me I guess.

This was gonna take hours even so. I had a brilliant notion. Sorted them by lawyer. I call the lawyer first, I could maybe cover several clients at once.

Second sort: by value. The high-value bonds were a bigger risk. Anything over a thousand, my priority. Most of those were with two firms, specializing in criminal law, six or seven lawyers involved. Start there.

After two phone calls I knew it was not going to be easy. Lawyers are pretty canny, they owe their allegiance to their client. They smelled something right off, guessed what was going down. Tried to bluff, say their clients were all available to appear.

I didn't let them get off so easy, went down the list, questioned every name, address, appearance date. Flight risk, solvency, community ties, mental state. Asked all the questions Dewey had skipped.

By lunch I had reduced my list by forty. Everything in order so far. Over a hundred thousand in bonds vetted. I took that to the boss, got her ok on my method. She suggested I stop when I got to five hundred. That would reduce the list by another 50.

That still left 60, at a score of lawyers all over town. Gonna be a slog.

I would have to work over lunch. No lunch dates arranged, but I'd anticipated going with Nick, celebrate her first day. Rats.

"Kelly? You have lunch plans? Could you take Nick somewhere, show her a good place? Get her back on time? My dime! Thanks!" I shelled out a couple twenties, congratulated Nick on an exciting first shift.

No lawyers working over lunch. I'd have to call clients direct. At a couple minutes per call, this was gonna take just that many more hours. Not bad.

The clock ticked slowly; I made calls, talked to clients, talked to spouses. Talked to adult children, just chatting, making sure things sounded ok on their end. It was a good sign if they took my call seriously, meant the person was likely there and at risk of being reincarcerated.

I figured the real tell would be if they didn't seem concerned, didn't remember the appearance date. That might mean there was nobody to appear, they'd already skedaddled.

When Kelly and Nick got back chatting like two old friends, I was down to maybe 30 slips. I'd tagged two of concern, one a disconnected phone, the other a vacuous spouse who didn't seem to know or care where their husband was. I took those to the boss.

She scanned the slips, sighed. "This is not actually too bad. The normal default rate is never zero."

"You gonna send somebody over? Check them out?"

She shook her head. "I could pay a bounty hunter two hundred to make a house call. Verify they skipped? I'm two hundred more in the hole, each, and still nobody appears. These two slips don't add up to fifteen hundred. I'm gonna cut my losses. It's a better deal, get you back on a desk, write some more paper, make some more premiums, we're ahead that way.

"How's the new hire working out?"

"Nick? Have to ask Kelly. I don't anticipate any problems. In fact, I have high hopes for Nick. Well-spoken, aggressive, hard worker. A damn sight better than Dewey, at any rate."

The boss wanted to ask me something. I waited.

"You have any suspicions about Dewey?"

I looked guilty, answered her straight. "Yes. I knew Dewey was a slacker, not picking up aggressively, late to shift, late back from lunch. I was expecting to replace him, soon as I had another candidate. I didn't know he was writing bad paper."

The boss sighed. "Anybody else you have reservations about?"

I didn't want to slander anybody, but I was paid to give it to her honestly. "Number 9 is slow. Big, hairy guy? But not slow like Dewey. Arrives on time, ready in his seat. Takes his time on each call. I think he's chatty. Maybe he writes better paper that way; I have no way of telling."

"I have no problem with that. Better paper is preferable to more paper. But now you've seen it, you know what to look for. Don't let another Dewey get past you."

That seemed unfair; I hadn't hired Dewey, wouldn't have hired him. But I was paid to run the office, so the buck stops here.

"Yes Ma'am. Sorry Ma'am. It won't happen again." It better not. I could read between the lines - my job depended on this.

She smiled a grim smile. "Take somebody off the line to help with the rest of those slips. I want it all in the can by end of day."

I nodded, was dismissed.

Kelly was glad to pitch in, and we had it 'in the can' half an hour before quitting time. Only one more default, and that was because the guy had died. Old fellow, probably some dementia, assaulted a cashier. Sad end. I asked Kelly how to handle that.

"Write 'deceased' on the slip, hand it in. The boss will call the clerk, get a death certificate. We'll get a partial bond refund, minus paperwork fees."

That done, it was time to head home. Kelly and Nick together, back to the boarding house, chatting like sisters. Me to mine, by myself. Alone tonight.

I don't know what I had been expecting there - that Nicky would continue to hang out at our house? Silly. Have sex with a girl once, I expect we're buddies? Well she sexed me up, I didn't do much. Still.

It was a long walk.

I was in charge of the office! Clearly both hiring and firing. It was a bright spot in the day, getting that made plain.

Had made my first hire! Another success.

And after my first hire I still had two desks to fill. Foo.

...

Gregory

She came in pretty bummed. Never seen her so down! Apparently work had not gone right; I could only get single syllables out of her.

She didn't need me talking, or solving her problems, or validating her emotions. She needed space and pampering.

Time for full comfort mode. I poured wine, handed it to her. Followed her onto the porch, took her shoes off when she sat, parked on the porch floor and put her foot in my lap, started massaging.

When she took a large slurp, slid down giving me full access to her leg, I knew I was doing something right. When she closed her eyes, groaned, sighed, then I was making progress.

Switch feet, start over on this calf, ankle. Work down the top, gently! The arch, over and under. The ball; below the toes. Careful of the blister! Fingertips probing for tender spots.

Separate, tug on each toe gently, straighten and flex. She has really cute toes!

She put her wine down, reached for me. I scooted up, on my knees, into her arms, into her kiss. Slid onto the seat beside her, ready for when she leaned into me, just breathing.

She offered me her wine; I took a sip, held the glass until she wanted it back.

When it got too chilly to sit out there, we went in and started supper.

...

"How'd Nick do?" I was keeping it neutral, interested in her day but not probing for sore spots.

"She was great! I think this is going to be 'her thing'. Loving the calls, the negotiation, being a hardass."

I smiled; that aligned with what little I knew of her. I liked Nick. Even though she'd been sucking up to my girlfriend, literally. Especially because. She had good character, felt strongly about reciprocation. Carried her feeling on her sleeve, as my mother used to say!

Some silence as we ate our microwaved chicken picante.

"Had a runner today!"

I raised an eyebrow, inviting more. I could guess that was a thing in her business. What it meant beyond that, no idea. Probably at the root of this.

"A sub-par phone-desk employee wrote 'bad paper', issued a bond on a flight risk. They ran."

I made a stab in the dark. "That had to be bad for your employee?"

She shrugged. "He's gone; walked him out, I did that. And the runner was retrieved, bounty hunter at the airport ticket counter picked him up, delivered him for his court appearance."

"So all's well that ends well?"

She shook her head, decided to tell me all.

"I spent the day in recovery mode, reviewing all his issued paper, calling lawyers and families, looking for more skips."

She was full of the jargon!

"Must not be a plum task?"

"Not bad. To be honest, not much different from taking regular calls. Same people, just different questions."

I waited her out. What was getting her down?

"It was my fault, in the end. I knew Dew...the employee was not delivering. Late, lazy, indifferent. I'm in charge of the office floor, so it was my issue to catch. I didn't catch it."

"That doesn't sound like you?" Having been burned once by a lying bastard, I felt she likely knew this guy was a similar case - selfish, untrustworthy.

"What I didn't do was, fire him the minute I arrived. Because... because I hadn't engaged with the duties, wasn't owning the job. Wasn't following my instincts and canning the worthless..."

She shook her head, clearly disappointed in herself. I wasn't going to argue with her, this was hers to sort out. I could engage on the topic?

"What does that mean to you, now? To the boss' trust? What's your recovery plan?" There, treat her like a peer, strategize with her. No blamethrowing or apologizing for anything, no oh you poor thing! comments that marginalized her ability to responsibly deal with the issue.

She 'woke up', really looked at me for the first time tonight. Tilted her head, the start of a smile.

"How do you do that?"

I looked innocent, who me? "Whatever do you mean, sweetheart?"

She would have punched me if she could reach me. "Take what I say, turn it into a conversation instead of a pity party? Here I was wallowing in my failures. You don't forgive me like 99% of the guys in the world would. You accept it all, respond to the problem instead of to my mood. Treat me like a fucking adult."

Serious now, "I love you too much to ever treat you as anything else. Respect who you are and what you can do. I will never underestimate you."

That got to her. I knew she was feeling beat up, a little fragile. Wanting to feel miserable for a while. Now she was learning that somebody I hoped she loved had her back, was trusting her, was here for her, here with her, whatever happened. I think it hit her right in the fells.

She scooted her chair back, came around and pulled me up into a hug. Nice! She's a great armful, I enjoyed the opportunity to get up against her, snuggle. Never gonna get tired of that.

Whispered in my ear, "I want to fuck you right now, you big supportive lover man."

Wow! This escalated fast. I could see, suddenly knew that she was hot as a firecracker, her juices flowing, her sex swelling, her heart surging. Who knew loving support was hot?

But I had reservations. Dammit. Dammit!

"I, um think that would possibly be the greatest thing that has ever happened to me. Seriously. But there's a plan underway, involving you, me and Khang. Among others. And a dress.

"It would be selfish of me, to disappoint so many people so close to the culmination of that plan."

She bit my ear. Fuuuuuck! She's making it hard. "They never have to know."

"But you know they would! Khang will have it out of you in a minute, next Girl's Night. You can't keep anything from your sister."

She pulled back, looked me in the eyes, looking for something. "Are you seriously refusing the fuck of your life, with the love of your life, all because you respect her family too much? Want them to be happy with us, for us?"

I gave her a sad-resigned-sorry look that said more than words. A deep shaky sigh.

Back into my ear, licking it this time, ahhhh!, "You make me wait, you better be prepared to deal with the consequences later. A sexually frustrated wildcat of a woman that wants to sex you up and spit out the bones, do things to you they never heard of, make you feel things the male body was never meant to endure, get the ever-loving living daylights fucked out of you until you are a limp shell of a man! You ready for that responsibility?"

I shivered, actually frightened a little. And I would probably have buckled, picked her up and carried her to my bedroom right then and there. But she pulled away, a feral look in her eye, making sure I knew she wasn't fooling, meant every word.

And quietly went back to her reconstituted chicken picante, calmly resumed eating.

...

I hardly slept that night, thinking about what I had missed. Then thinking about what was to come. What have I done!

Jillian slept like a log all night.