3 — After the Bout
October 1, 1938
Grunting, groaning, Dwight rolled straight out of bed and hit the floor. In an instant Pauline was there, all motherly care, helping him to sit back up on his former resting place.
"How long?" he drooled.
"You've been out since I tucked you in at two this morning. Now it's seven at night."
"Day?"
"Saturday. First of October. Here."
A glass slipped easily into Dwight's shaking hand. He was hoping, as the rim touched his lips, to taste whiskey, but instead he got a gulp of water tinged with headache powder. Spluttering, he slopped some on his undershirt, paused, then swallowed the rest quickly.
"Pauline," he rasped, "what'd I do without you?"
"Probably better not to think about that," she said, taking the glass and refilling it from the carafe.
"Was I bad? At the party, was I bad?"
"Boss, you were charming as always. Granted, you were so drunk in the end that your eyeballs were getting floaty..."
"You know I love the sauce."
"Yes."
Pauline looked down at him as he drank the second glass of water. There was that familiar little look of disapproval on her face — lips tight, eyes squeezed half shut, left eyebrow well out of line with its mate.
"All right," Dwight sighed, "what'd I do?"
"Well, Devon was quite upset before we left. You upchucked all down the front of his building."
"Oh, Christ."
Flinging himself back across the bed, Dwight scrubbed his hands over his face, then, unthinking, reached down to adjust his nuts. He grimaced, but saw that Pauline had not seen, being busy gathering clean clothes for him.
"You had two calls today," she said, turning and draping trousers over the chair.
"Mr. Hartlepool wants an update on the surveillance, and Mrs. Kentish asked that you call her back any time you could. Urgent, she says."
"Probably got another wild goose chase for me. Anything else?"
"Prospective new client came in. Looks like they need some below-board investigation into a little matter of violence."
Stepping closer, Pauline handed him a clean shirt and his green tie.
"You ought to look sharp, in case Mrs. Kentish expects you to come and see her."
"Ah, that old broad's hot for me. Can't figure out why."
"Afraid that's a little beyond my ken as well."
Smiling, Pauline left him alone to dress. Dwight rushed the job a bit, then hurried out into the front office. He really never did thank her enough for always going so far above and beyond.
By the time he reached her, Pauline was slipping on her coat.
"Going out, or going home?" Dwight asked.
"Out. I've got a date."
"Oh yeah? Anyone I know?"
Pulling a compact from her purse, Pauline checked her hair and quickly touched up her lipstick.
"The person who helped me get you back here last night. Very nice, very helpful, and with such a nice car."
"What's her name?"
Closing her purse again, Pauline smiled and shrugged.
"You know, I forgot to ask? I just know we're meeting at Ampelio's in half an hour."
Then she was out the door, only pausing a moment to call out that there was an order of Chow Mein on Dwight's desk and to remind him about the day's calls.
For a while after she'd gone, Dwight simply swayed in the doorway between the front and rear offices, shaking his head. There was no accounting for Pauline, really. As a secretary and a friend, she was invaluable and endlessly practical. As a single girl looking for love...
With a grunt, Dwight turned and moved into the rear office. Sure enough, there was the Chow Mein in it's little white box on his desk. Yes, Pauline thought of everything.
Well, nearly everything.
Posted Oct 3, 2019, 11:54 AM UTC · edited