Girls In 3-B, The Read Online Free PDF

middle and soft under the chin, but still a man to turn and look after on the street. Maybe thirty-five. He looked like a salesman or a young politician, not bookish. He smiled. "I'm Blake Thomson. Now, this job -- "
    His voice held her; she lost what he was saying. Resonant, full, with troubling overtones, it stirred her like music. She tried to listen, fixing her eyes on his face. His eyes were not dark, as she had expected, but a deep gray. Blunt nose, charming smile. He picked up a pencil, and she saw that his hands were strong, with curly dark hair at the edge of the starched white cuffs.
    This is crazy, she thought. You can't feel like this about somebody you've just met. Anyhow, he's probably married and has five or six kids. She shut her eyes, partly to regain her balance and partly, she realized too late, to shut out all other sensations so that deep clear voice could flow over her unimpeded. At once she was conscious of a physical response she had read about and heard described in intimate talk, but had never experienced. Definite, local, unmistakable. She felt her face reddening and resisted a sudden impulse to cross herself. Keep me from sin, she prayed silently.
    "So if you think you'd like to try it, you can begin tomorrow morning. Our other girl is married, and her husband's being transferred -- "
    She opened her eyes. She wasn't sure what he had been saying -- had, in fact, no clear idea of what she would be expected to do if she took the job. As far as she knew it might be something of which she was totally incapable. Struggling for clarity, she said in a small voice, "I've never been in this sort of business before."
    "It's not too different from regular office work. If you can type and answer the telephone you'll get along all right." He smiled. The smile was more than she could take. Something inside, some deep female instinct, warned her to run. If you had any sense, she told herself, you'd get out of here but quick. This is more than you can handle. She felt suddenly short of breath, as if her lungs were being squeezed by an iron hand. The floor tilted. She grasped the edge of her chair, and the hard reality of the wood gave her stability. She smiled back at him. "I'd like to try it."
    He walked back to the foyer with her. She wondered crazily what would happen if she brushed against him, swayed toward him in that narrow hallway.
    "Phyllis, Miss Callahan is coming in tomorrow." He bent over the proofreader, his attitude at once casual and intimate. Envy flared up in Pat.
    Going down in the elevator, she realized dizzily that she hadn't settled anything at all. She didn't know what she was going to do, or what her hours would be, or how much she was getting. She crossed the splendid lobby and went out through the revolving door without seeing anything or anyone.
    The girls would be full of questions. Barby had made a special trip in to interview her boss and fill out application forms, and she had come back loaded with details: paid vacations, store discount, pension plans, Social Security cards, group insurance, company cafeterias. Annice, bored as she pretended to be by the idea of going back to school, had her schedule all made out for the semester and the pages of her college catalog were dogeared with handling.
    Well, she would have to make up some answers. Or stall them off until she found out. She crossed Dearborn and Madison without noticing the traffic, the lights or the shopping crowds. A deep disturbing voice rang in her ears. He doesn't even know I'm alive, she thought, but I'd go anywhere with him, or do anything in the world he wanted me to do.

CHAPTER FIVE
    New employees, and some old ones, were always complaining because the Store was so big, when they weren't complaining because the customers were snippy or their feet ached. They said you could get lost looking for the restrooms, and it was true. If you had to go to the office and see about deductions or sign up for insurance, it took