Sparky was sitting at Blake’s desk, covering for him while he took a long lunch. Her nose was deep into a file on the desk. She nodded and picked up a black Flair and drew a circle around a name on the page in front of her, shifted the page as she dropped the pen and compared information on the new page. “Ah hah! Gotcha!”
She picked up a red pen and drew lines through words on the second page. She double checked the dates and added those by the lines drawn, this time with a blue Flair. She looked over her jottings then slipped the first page back on top and began to read through the information again.
“What’cha doin’?” Came the voice from out of the blue.
Sparky tried to pretend not to panic, looking up and smiling. “Just some editing, a project for Ian.”
Clark Yancy nee Yancy Gordon grinned, laying a pile of files on top of Sparky’s work. “I’m a gofer. Hear me roar.”
“At least you’re staying out of trouble.” Sparky grinned.
“That wouldn’t be any fun now would it?” Yancy laid his hand on top of the files. “Lee sent this up for Ian’s perusal.”
“I’ll tell Blake when he gets back. Ian’s in a meeting.”
Yancy nodded his head. “Coffee later?” He gave her that look she understood immediately.
“Sure. As soon as Blake gets back, maybe fifteen minutes?”
He looked at his watch. “Make it half hour. Text me, oh and…” He ran his hand along the files causing them to fan out slightly. “…If I’m not mistaken there are promos you may be interested in at 4 and 6”.
Sparky made eye contact with him and put her hand on top of his. “Stop that!” She scolded. “You know Blake is almost as bad about tidy little piles as Ian is. You trying to make me assistant gofer…again?”
“Sorry.” He reached to straighten the fanned out stack of files.
“I got it.” Sparky smacked at his hands. “I got it. Now just go away.”
Clark nee Yancy nodded and walked away. Sparky quickly read the file tabs and picked up the stack to straighten them with a quick tap. “Crap!” She moaned out loud as half the stack missed the desk and slid into her lap.
Bambi looked at her from across the room. “Need some help?”
“No, just a klutz.” Sparky picked up the files from her lap, allowing the tabs she remembered as fourth and sixth in the pile to remain in her lap. The others were carefully shifted into a neat stack and placed in the corner of the desk.
She picked up the small stack she had previously been working on, lay them in her lap to make sure she could slip the new files into the ones she’d been working on. When it all one pile she returned her work back to the blotter in front of her, the two new files securely in her work stack.
“Now,” She mumbled. “Were was I?” She checked to make sure her pens were all there and then slipped the bottom two files on top, flipped the first one open and began to read the new information.
The phone on the desk rang. Eyes still on the text she picked up the phone. “Ian Justyn’s office.”
“Miss Jarvis?” The voice on the line asked.
Sparky smiled. “Mr. Turner. Blake’s took an extended lunch. I drew the short straw.”
“I must say, I’m impressed young lady, already earning enough trust for Blake to allow you access to his phone and little black book.”
“Never mistake trust for desperation, Mr. Turner. It could just be the rest of the staff wants me dead. I dot one ‘T’ wrong and Blake will have my head on a spit.”
“I’s get dots, Miss Jarvis.” The old man reminded her. “T’s get crossed.”
“Uh oh.” Sparky hoped the man was smiling on his end. “Sing at my funeral?”
“I think you’ll survive.”
“Now, what may I do for you, sir?” She finally remembered to ask.
“Is Young Justyn available?”
“Actually, he’s in a meeting.”
“Still in the building?”
“No, actually. He’s gone for the day.” The phone was silent for a moment, but Sparky could almost hear David Turner calculating. “He just left if that’s any help and I heard him mention to Jesse there was one more place he wanted to stop before they went home.”
“Oh yes, that’s right. Ripley’s not his driver this afternoon?”
“No, grocery day. Ripley and Ronnie are probably hitting the ice cream aisle as we speak.”
“I must be getting old, as routine as Ian’s schedule is I just can’t seem to get the hang of it.”
“I would assume everyone will be home in time to make dinner at the usual time. I’m sure you can reach him then or I can text him if it’s urgent.”
“No, no need. Ronnie taught me how to text. I’ll do it myself. Thank you Miss Jarvis. You have a good day.”
David Turner hit the End button of his cell phone and leaned forward. “I was right. Ian’s house please.”
The driver nodded his head at Turner’s reflection in the rear view mirror. “Of course, Mr. Turner.”
“No need to hurry. He won’t be back for quite a while.”
“Of course, Mr. Turner.” The driver checked for traffic before pulling off the shoulder and back onto the highway.
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