Chapter 6

A large man entered the room. He carried himself well for such a large man, moving as if he owned the space he occupied—unlike Jane who tended to enter it apologetically and quickly retreat. Jane's brow went up at his height. He had to have been at least 6'5", and he was built like a bear, a shaggy-haired white bear—an unhappy, shaggy-haired white bear. Jane saw that his face was pulled down which increased the lines present. He appeared to be in his fifties, but if he allowed his expression to move from one of annoyance—and maybe if he got rid of the white hair—then he would fit nicely in the age range of late forties.

He was intimidating, and she hoped that he wasn't annoyed at her. No one had told her where to report and—

His eyes locked onto hers. "Jane? You're Jane?" He closed the space between them.

"Yes sir." She didn't step back even though she wanted to.

"Can you type?"

"Yes sir."

"Follow me." He hadn't even introduced himself. She glanced at the receptionist, who gave her an apologetic smile, as she followed the grumbling man. They got into an elevator, and Mr. Singleton's brow was gathered and his pale skin was ruddy from his annoyance at something that was thankfully not her.

"I can't turn in this paper. It's useless to me. I can't find half my files and I haven't had a decent cup of coffee in …" He turned to her. "I need you to type up a report for me. I need it to be without errors. Do you think you can do that?"

She raised her brow. There was a thing called spellcheck … "Yes, sir."

He seemed to calm a bit as he looked at her. Then he nodded and led her down a hallway. Small cubicles were set up neatly before larger enclosed offices with frosted glass doors and windows. When they got to the end of the hall, she saw a harried woman who had several files out on a messy desk. This area seemed separate from the rest of the space, though not by door or walls. A neat reception area marked its point of separation, then there was the cubicle for the assistant or secretary, and lastly there was a door leading to an office, a much more important office than the others she'd passed.

"Did you find them?" he asked in an annoyed voice.

"I'm still searching for the third one, sir."

He gestured toward Jane. "In my office." She followed him, and he shut the door soundly, nearly slamming it. Mr. Singleton's office was large and nicely decorated in dark wooden furniture. There was warmth here that seemed at odds to the man with the pinched expression.

"I want you to use my desk and my computer to type the report. I'm going to be out there, helping my assistant find the proper files. Afterwards you're going to help her. Obviously one person can't successfully do this job, but maybe two can."

He handed her five sheets of paper. They were heavily marked in red ink with messy scribbles in the margins and arrows pointing to where he wanted his "notes" directed. It was … a mess.

"I need this done by eleven-thirty. Can you do this?"

She sat in the vacated chair. "Yes, but is this saved on the computer?"

He reached past her and clicked on a Word document file. "This is the original."

Oh, well this would be easy. She could have it corrected in minutes. "Yes, Mr. Singleton. You'll have it before eleven-thirty."

Mr. Singleton left again, nearly slamming the door and leaving Jane in the now quiet office. She relaxed, the tension leaving her body while she pulled up a fresh Word document page. This office was even nicer then Sister Louise's. Music played softly, but not office music but radio music. Best of all, you could look outside at the city below. She didn't have time for that now. She saved the document, placed the word "final" at the end of it, and then worked on the corrections that Mr. Singleton had noted. Some of the mistakes made by the assistant were embarrassing. She nearly had to retype half of it.

But before long she reached the end of the document and ran the spellcheck. Perfect. She read it over once more to be sure. Still perfect. Then she checked the small clock at the bottom of the screen. It was almost nine, and she needed to pee. There was a small door here in the office and she figured it was his private bathroom. She hoped he wouldn't get mad, but she couldn't bring herself to step out of the office and ask a stranger, a man, where the bathroom was located.

She opened the door into the small, neat restroom and used it. He would probably hear the toilet flush. Her face burned and she hurried back to the office and pressed PRINT. While the corrected report spit from the printer, Jane looked around. There was a cold mug of watery looking coffee on the desk, but it was otherwise neat. She peered at the picture of a pretty lady. His wife? Next to it was another photograph, this time with Mr. Singleton and the same woman. They were wearing ski outfits and were hugging and smiling before a snow-capped mountain.

She could barely believe it was the same man. He was handsome. It was obvious that he was still older when this picture had been taken, maybe mid- to late- forties, but when he wasn't scowling he looked vibrant. She saw dark hair streaked with white beneath his woolen cap and blue eyes. The laugh lines surrounding his eyes made him look rugged. He looked like a man who would trek through the wilderness, sleep in a tent, fight off wolves, but hold his pretty wife delicately in his big hands. It was in the way that his head tilted in her direction. He was leaning into her as he smiled for the camera.

Jane smiled. She decided she would like Mr. Singleton. Even if he seemed brusque, she knew that he was more than that. She opened the door and walked out into the main room. There were eight file cabinets that looked like pieces of furniture. They were probably four feet high and two feet wide, and they lined two walls. Each had three drawers, half of which stood opened. As her eyes scanned one of the cabinets she knew that it contained a lot of files.

She cleared her throat, and Mr. Singleton and his assistant looked over at her. There were several more files on the desk. They would need to be replaced, but that seemed like an impossible task.

"I finished the report. Is there anything else that I can do?" He didn't seem to understand the words that came from her mouth because he only stared at her.

"Where is it?" he asked.

"On your desk, sir."