September 18, 1998
LAST DAY OF WORK BEFORE the weekend. I come in to the office on time, pass by Julia, who glares at me from her desk, and go up to my office. Ethan’s door is closed, and I’m not sure if he’s in his office or not, so I knock. Getting no answer, I assume he’s out and sit at my desk.
A couple hours later, the elevator door opens and Ethan strolls out. “Good morning, Deloris,” he sings.
“Good morning, sir. I have a few messages for you.”
Taking the slips of paper with his call back numbers and slipping them into his breast pocket, he asks, “You haven’t been in town long, have you?”
“No. I moved here from Manassas, Maryland on Monday,” I answer, wrapping a strand of hair around my finger.
“Why?” His eyes swim with curiosity as the question leaves his lips.
“Why what?” I wonder aloud, attempting to play dumb. I’m not sure I like where this is going.
“Why would you move here? To Rapid City? There’s nothing here.” Tilting his head to the side, he waits for my answer. Lucky for me, I’ve memorized my legend.
“Escaping a bad relationship,” I start, looking down at my desk. “He beat me.”
“I don’t understand how any man could strike a woman. It’s despicable,” he growls, pounding his fist on my desk.
Continuing, I add, “I needed to go somewhere he couldn’t find me, so I took a dart and threw it at a map. It landed on Rapid City.”
“That’s unfortunate,” he murmurs.
“I was lucky enough my old boss gave me such an incredible reference. I was hired by the temp agency right over the phone. Why?” I ask, looking up into his cloudless, sky blue eyes.
Regarding me for a moment, he answers, “I couldn’t see anyone wanting to move here. It’s desolate—nothing but Mount Rushmore. Believe me, I grew up here. It’s boring.”
“I like boring,” I reveal, keeping my eyes glued to his, looking for any sign that he knows I’m full of shit.
“Wait,” he blurts. “The festival. I almost forgot the Great Downtown Pumpkin festival is Saturday. It’s a pretty big deal around here.”
“I’ve never been to a festival,” I lie.
“You should go with me. It could be a way for you to get to know your boss a little better.” Smiling, his eyes search mine for an answer.
He’s right.
It could be a great way for me to get to know him—without having to spread my legs.
It’s also in a public place.
I nibble on the top of my pen while mulling it over. His eyes are drawn to my lips as I ponder his already answered question.
“Sure, it sounds like fun,” I agree. “I’d love to.”
“Fantastic. We’ll talk more about this later. Right now, I need to return these calls.” With a wink, Ethan turns and strolls into his office.
After work, I go home and change into something more comfortable. Tomorrow, I’ll be meeting Ethan around noon in the town square. Tonight, however, I’ll be doing a little reconnaissance.
It’s Friday. That means Ethan goes to Paddy O’Neill’s Irish Pub. It won’t be hard to observe him as he drinks and gambles. I’m interested in seeing who he talks to and what he says. I may not be able to hear him, but I can read lips like a champ.
Like everything else when you live in the center of town, Paddy O’Neill’s is within walking distance, and I’m at the bar in less than ten minutes. As I enter, I scan the room, looking for Ethan through the crowded bar. It’s not a dive like I expected, but has its Irish charm.
Walking up to the copper top bar, I order a pint of their local Oktoberfest and try to find Ethan. After a few minutes of searching, I spot him near the back of the bar sitting at a table with another gentleman. I’m able to get a clear look at Ethan, who’s chatting away. From what I can read, they’re talking about work related items, and nothing to do with ammunition or Al-Qaeda.
Then, things get interesting.
He starts talking about me.
The hot, new secretary he wants to sleep with.
The siren who calls out to him, begging him to be with her.
Christ, what is it with men? All I did was twist my hair and bat my eyelashes. It can’t be this easy.
Finishing their beers, they both stand, weaving through the crowd toward the exit. I slam down what’s left of my second pint and follow a safe distance behind.
They take me a few blocks down the road to a local casino. Pulling out chairs at a blackjack table, they take a seat. I watch from the other side of the room, waiting for them to talk about anything useful. For the next three hours, it’s all about long legs and pussy.
From what I can count, Ethan’s lost about a grand and his friend won a couple hundred. Ethan didn’t lose because he had shitty cards. No, he just can’t play. I would’ve cleaned up.
They both stand and move toward the exit. It’s getting late, and from what I learned in the dossier, he doesn’t stay out past midnight. Both men lumber to the exit and say their goodbyes, each going a different direction. I follow Ethan, who stumbles his way home. Once inside his building, I hurry back to mine.
A few blocks later, I’m back at my apartment with just as many questions as I had when I left. This was a complete waste of time, but surveillance often is. Hopefully, I’ll get some answers tomorrow.