As usual I was casting about for any way to start a conversation.
“Your husband seems like a nice guy.” I said, lamely.
She didn’t look up but I heard her sniff. “And what does my husband have to do with you being here to clean the room?” She asked.
I had no answer. “No—I just thought he seemed like…..”
“I think I know what you thought.” She said, cutting me off in mid sentence. I could feel myself starting to color a bit. She put her work aside and fixed a stare on me.
“You like this job, do you, cleaning up?” She asked.
“I don’t mind it.”
“Oh, I’ll just bet you don’t.” She said. With that she pulled the cap off one of those little pencil sharpeners and tapped shavings on the floor. “Well, here’s your chance.”
I dragged the vacuum around her desk. She leaned back in her chair and put a foot on either side of the shavings and smiled at me. “Whoops.” She said.
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