‘Have a good day? ‘What the hell are you doing here?’ I ask. ‘Now Eleanor, is that any way to treat a guest?’ He says walking to my counter,...rifling through the mail. Crap. He knows my name. ‘It’s Ella.’ ‘Hm. I like that.’ He says turning around to look at me. ‘Don’t move.’ I say, trying to sound stern. He leans against the counter, folding his arms across his chest. ‘How was your hospital stay?’ I ask him. ‘Wonderful. I’ve been meaning to pay you back for shooting me.’ ‘What the hell does that. Do you know, he even cried: “I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to hurt you, but this is the real thing, sob, sob. I’ve got to with her, sob, sob.” He’d been with her all right. All those “Working late at the office, darling” nights. At least that was true, he’d been working, but not office work unless humping some woman on the office carpet passes for “office work”. My God didn’t he work! Slinking home at one in the morning! There’s devotion to the job for you. “I’ll see you right, Ellie,” he. More

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