Hillary stepped off the elevator on the fourth floor of the Allen Grimby Repertory Theater and approached the reception area with a bright, sunny smile on her face.
“Hey, Hillary,” called a male voice.
“Noel.” The smile ratcheted up a couple of notches. “I was in the neighborhood. Thought I’d stop by.”
Noel was interning at the AGRT through next spring. He was a theater major at the U of M and was lucky enough to land the nine-month job. It didn’t pay much, but that didn’t matter to Noel. He was the live-in-a-garret-and-exist-on-ramen-noodles type. He was also the one who’d given Hillary the information on when and where Joanna’s plane would land. No small leak. Noel was manipulatable. Just the kind of guy Hillary liked.
She sauntered up to his desk and leaned over him, plucking a wrapped peppermint from a clear glass bowl. She was wearing black jeans and a black leather blazer over a red tank top, one that showed an extra inch or two—or three—of cleavage.
“Help yourself,” said Noel, speaking directly to her breasts.
“Thanks. What time are you done here?”
“I guess I could leave anytime. It’s Friday. Everybody else is gone.”
“What are we waiting for?”
“You’re in a good mood. What you got in mind?”
Hillary sat down on the edge of the desk, fiddling with Noel’s ugly polyester tie. “A drink, maybe?”
“Really?” His eyes finally found hers. “How come I rate?”
“I missed you.”
“You did?”
“Sure.” She undid the top button of his shirt. “Come on. TGIF, right?”
“What about Cody?”
“What about him?”
“Aren’t you two, like, a couple?”
“We date. It’s not a serious thing.”
“Well, great then. Let me just turn off some lights.” He pushed his chair back, ready to get up, but Hillary still held on to his tie. “You gonna let me go?” he asked.
“Maybe. Maybe not.”
With a boy-did-I-hit-the-freakin’-jackpot look in his eyes, he pulled her down onto his lap. “My boss has a great couch in her office.”
“That right?”
“We could get the drink later.”
With a giggle, she brushed a strand of his lanky brown hair away from his forehead. “You’re taking this a little fast, don’t you think?”
His hand slipped under her jacket. “You tell me.”
She closed her eyes, moaning softly. In his ear, she said, “Would you do me one little favor?”
“Anything,” he whispered.
“I need Joanna Kasimir’s cell phone number.”
His hand stopped stroking her breast. Leaning back, he said, “Why?”
“So I can call her about the interview.”
“She agreed to one?”
“In principle, yeah. I talked to her at the airport. We really hit it off. She understood totally that this could be my big break. But I’m afraid if I don’t follow up on it right away, she may forget about it. She’s got a lot on her mind, you know.”
He eyed her skeptically.
“Do you have it? The number?”
“Yes.”
“She wouldn’t mind. I guarantee it. It’s all in a good cause.”
“I could lose my job if—”
She pressed a finger to his lips. Removing his glasses, she let her hand drift downward. “You won’t lose anything, Noel. I promise.”
“But—”
She could tell his resolve was weakening. “They could use ancient Chinese water torture on me. I’d never tell where I got it. And I’d be so grateful.”
“How grateful?” he whispered, closing his eyes.
They never made it to the couch.