Taking Stock Read Online Free PDF Page B

them in the next two weeks. No one else was going to have time for them either, but this might be the sword she could use to take a swipe at Brad. Gregg was going to have to fend off Mr. Johnson for awhile and there was nothing she could do about that. When things slowed down, she’d dig deep. If Brad had ignored a serious problem, she’d uncover every detail and she’d tell anyone who’d listen. Even Marty cared about the customers. They supported his lavish lifestyle after all.
    Eric a noticed the ever-blinking red light on her phone, clicked on the speaker and logged-in to check her voicemail. Half-listening, she angrily punched the delete button on the first six messages before any of them finished playing.
    Impossible. She was never going to finish on time.
    The next voice was Simon’s, “ Eric a, hey, where have you been ? Dating is supposed to be a two person endeavor. A contact sport if it’s done right. I can’t get you anywhere. Call me.”
    Eric a deleted a few more messages.
    Her mother’s voice came next, “ Eric a, I haven’t heard from you in a few weeks. Wanted to make sure everything’s ok. Call me. I miss you.”
    Delete. Delete. Delete.
    A young woman’s voice played from the speaker, “ Eric a, Kate. Eisenstein was ripped you blew it off again. He went postal about those students who never show up for class and think they’ll pass – meaning you. He says that doesn’t play in graduate school. Better come next Wednesday. See ya.”
    Simon’s voice returned, angrier than before, “ Eric a, this is ridiculous. Call me.” She wondered how long it had been since they talked.
    Eric a laid her head on the desk and closed her eyes.

Chapter Seven
     
“One o’ five Marlborough .”
“One o’ five Marlborough, Mam.”
A blurry close-up of stitched blue vinyl appeared through Eric a’s sore eyes. She pushed herself up. The windows of the cab were dark, the streetlights too pale for her to recognize her own block. She knew better than to let her guard down in public, especially at night in the city. Here she was in the car with a complete stranger, asleep, with no idea where she was. He could have driven her anywhere. She cursed herself for nodding off. She knew first hand what could happen and that knowledge kept her ever vigilant. She could take three guys like this scrawny cab driver, but her self defense training was worthless when she was asleep. Fortunately, she wouldn’t need her training tonight.
She poked a ten through the plexiglass and rambled into the lobby and up the stairs. Her body steered its own way home, her eyes so heavy she could barely see. She pushed the key in the lock, jammed her shoulder against the door, and stumbled inside when it jerked out of her way. The stark lights jarred her to a stop. Every one of them was on and she felt every watt through her thin eyelids. The blow dryer whined loudly in the bathroom. The light and the noise blocked her advance and she wanted to lay down right there on the carpet. Eyes closed, she marched zombie-like to the hall, her shoulder rubbing the wallpaper when she reached it, guiding her, keeping her upright.
One cracked eye spied Melanie pulling a fat round brush with one hand and waving the dryer with the other. The hair on one side hung down straight, the other waved with curls that would only become more pronounced if allowed to dry. Nine on Saturday night, Melanie was going out. Eric a wouldn’t last another five minutes.
Eric a stumbled on, but Melanie’s voice pulled her back, forcing her to remain standing longer than she thought possible. Her joints longed to sprawl out beneath the sheets. The dryer thankfully ceased.
“Where’ve you been ? ” Melanie asked.
“Work,” Eric a said leaning against the wall for support.
“Let me get this straight. You worked all day Friday, Friday night and Saturday, a day most people take off, and you’re just getting home at nine o’clock . No wonder you look like