Corbin winced. “That adds a level of difficulty. . we wouldn’t have any flexibility about the timing for one thing. Plus, it’ll be hard to do your out processing without you here.”
“True, but I think it would be worth it. We should do it!”
Corbin bit his lip. “It’s an interesting idea, but we need to look at all the angles first. You realize we can’t use the money for some time, right?”
“That doesn’t matter. What I save in commuting costsshould more than see me through for a few months. A train ride from New Jersey every morning isn’t cheap.”
Before Corbin could respond, Theresa knocked on their door. She entered without waiting to be invited, closing the door behind her. Nodding at Beckett, who waved politely, she perching herself on the edge of Corbin’s desk, where she always sat when visiting Corbin. Today she wore a black suit, as did Corbin, though his was of a more recent vintage. Moreover, he had removed his jacket, something she never did in the office. After crossing her legs, Theresa smoothed her skirt and pulled it to the top of her knee. She then stuck her right leg out in front of her and pulled imaginary fluff from her black stocking. When she finished, she let her leg hang and her shoe dangle from her foot. The show was intended for Corbin, but he refused to let his eyes be drawn to her legs.
“What’s this I hear about you having a bad date? Why didn’t you tell me?!” Theresa asked, trying to sound jocular, though hints of distress permeated her voice. As she spoke, she tugged at the single strand of pearls hanging around her neck.
“Tell you?! I didn’t tell anyone. They all just seem to know. Our office must be bugged,” Corbin said, raising an accusatory eyebrow at Beckett. “How did you find out, Theresa?”
“Ignore him, Theresa,” Beckett interjected. “He’s just grumpy.”
“I am not,” Corbin shot back.
“Why is he grumpy?” Theresa asked.
“The date didn’t go well,” Beckett said.
Theresa folded her hands in her lap and grinned at Corbin. “Do tell.”
“There’s nothing to tell.”
“Who’s the girl?”
“There’s nothing to tell,” Corbin repeated.
“She’s a banker, right?” Beckett interjected again.
“Banker, accountant, circus freak, what’s the difference?” Corbin asked.
“Oooh, a banker, that should be right up your alley, with that huge brain of yours,” Theresa said, smiling at Corbin. “What went wrong?”
Corbin looked at Beckett. “You’re doing a good job telling the story, why don’t you continue?”
“Sure. ‘What went wrong,’ you ask? Too normal. Lover boy doesn’t like the straights. He’s into the crazies.”
“I am not into the crazies!” Corbin protested.
“Crazies?!” Theresa laughed sharply. “Don’t let him anywhere near Molly! Heaven help us. The gates of hell would open up and swallow this office whole if the two of them ever got together.”
In an office with little to do, feuding becomes a form of entertainment. Sometimes, these feuds spin out of control. Of all the feuds taking place in the office, the worst was easily the one between Molly and Theresa. No one knew exactly how it began, but what turned the spark of disagreement into an all-out conflagration was Molly’s discovery that Theresa suffered from a great deal of insecurity regarding her attraction to Corbin. This was a big red button that was just too tempting for Molly not to push. And push it she did. Theresa retaliated by sniping at Molly’s physical traits, especially her height, which was a good five inches greater than Theresa’s, and her perceived lack of modesty in her relationships with the male sex. Theresa particularly took these shots when she spoke to Corbin, as she hoped to ensure that Corbin didn’t fall for any charms Molly may have. Corbin tried to stay neutral, but that wasn’t helping.
“I do not like the crazies,” Corbin repeated. “I like normal, thank you very much. And for your information, the date went well. She was just a little. . dull, that’s all.”
“What made her so dull? Did she lecture you on how to deduct your socks on your taxes?”
“She was just dull. She was too. . corporate.”
“‘Corporate’?”
“Yeah, like she’d been processed, like a chicken McNugget. Everything about her was conventional, standard issue. Her past, her plans for the future, all conventional. Her opinions, all thoroughly vetted by the Post. She even ordered bland food.”
“I think, my friend, the problem lies within,” Beckett opined.
“What’s that supposed to mean?!”
“You’re bored with yourself, so you find other people boring.”
“That would explain why he’s drawn to the crazies,” Theresa teased Corbin.
“I think you’ve both lost your minds. And you never answered my question, how did you find out about this non-date?”
“How do you think,” Theresa said.
“Molly.”
“Yep. She told her secretary, who told my secretary, who told me. You know the drill.” Theresa picked up Corbin’s watch off the desk. “Speaking of our girl, I saw you downstairs with her yesterday. So. . what did she tell you?” Theresa asked coyly.
“Nothing.”
Theresa’s happy mood instantly succumbed to irritation, and a scowl crossed her face. “She must have said something. Speak!” She waved her hand at Corbin.
“All she said was she looking for some shoes,” replied Corbin, ignoring Theresa’s irritation. He shifted his attention to his computer and took a sip of his coffee.
“Shoes? Hmm. I didn’t know they made shoes in her size. . at least not women’s shoes.” Theresa flashed an ugly smile, which created wrinkles underneath her eyes.
“Before you start,” Beckett interrupted, “you might want to get back to your office. Kak’s on the prowl today, and he’s already been in here twice.”
Theresa waved off his comment. “I don’t care about Kak.” She shifted slightly so she could see Beckett more easily. “Apparently, our little Molly had a date the other night with a banker, and it didn’t go well.” Theresa often described Molly as “little,” to ironically emphasize Molly’s larger-than-average build.
“There seems to be a lot of that going around lately,” said Beckett, referencing Corbin’s failed date. Corbin shot Beckett a nasty look in return, though Theresa didn’t notice.
“You won’t believe this!” Theresa said, far too happily. “This guy was perfect for her! He’s rich, which we all know is her primary requirement. He’s an up-and-coming junior partner at a local investment bank. He’s older than her, so we avoid a repeat of last summer’s crisis.”
Corbin and Beckett nodded involuntary at the memory of Molly’s behavior the prior summer.
“What’s more, for some reason I’ll never understand, he adores her! He’s apparently completely smitten with her, even though he knows all about her, uh,” Theresa cleared her throat, “unusually experienced past. Can you believe he doesn’t care about that? Incredible!”
Corbin ignored Theresa’s rant and opened his e-mail.
Beckett, however, couldn’t ignore her. “What’s the catch?”
Theresa’s smile broadened to the point that it appeared dangerously close to spreading beyond the confines of her face. “He’s two inches shorter than she is!”
Corbin rolled his eyes, thinking back to Molly’s comments about heels, but he remained silent.
“So what?” Beckett asked. He sounded confused.
“Exactly!” Theresa verged on giddiness. “For normal people like you and me, that wouldn’t be a big deal. But for her, a shorter date is an affront to her dignity! She spent the whole morning complaining to anyone she ran across. Then she called the friend who introduced them, and she yelled at her for setting her up with ‘McShorty.’ Afterwards, she called McShorty himself and told him he was too short for her.”
“She didn’t!” Beckett gasped.
“She did!” Theresa laughed. “This is the fifth guy she’s dumped in the last two months, and always for the shallowest reasons: too young, too cheap, too old, too bald, and now too short. Two more and she becomes some twisted Snow White.” Theresa grabbed a folder from Corbin’s desk and held it before her face. “Mirror, mirror on the wall, who’s the nuttiest fruitcake of them all.”