That’s when THE UNIVERSE paused and took a deep breath.
For the first time in his life, Donald didn’t see a huge part of THE OTHERWORLD, even though she was sitting in a leather guest chair on the opposite side of his carved cherry-wood desk. Instead, he only saw a pair of long legs peaking from beneath a short black skirt. And red lips, perfect for kissing.
Provided the brown eyes above those lips could overlook the growing blemish on his chin.
Donald reminded Jessica of her father. Except without the glowing red eyes and cloven hooves. And the horns. Mr. Hefeweizen definitely didn’t have horns, though the pimple was making a run for it.
She couldn’t quite figure out where to look. Lazy righty eye? Left eye? So, she settled on the pimple.
Really, was there anywhere else one could be forced to look? It was like a train wreck – she didn’t want to stare. She couldn’t help herself.
“Promoted?! Why? I thought you were going to fire me!”
“Oho, no! Not you, dear. We’re going to fire the software programmers. Seems today’s dramatic losses can be attributed to a virus . . . er . . . a glitch . . . a bug . . . something. Anyway, we fired him.”
“Wow!” Jessica exclaimed. She had heard a lie. she never realized how easy it was to pick up on a fallacy. It smelled like licorice. And it made her happy.
That had never happened to her before. Her father had always said he could smell a lie. Why didn’t he just say they smelled like licorice? Would have make much more sense.
“. . . the corner office on the third floor. It should be ready for you by Friday.” Donald Hefeweizen was talking about something important.
Jessica was too busy smelling his words to hear anything he was saying.
. . . to be continued.
(c) copyright 2008 Jennifer J. Knighton