Gary hurried into his office, his wide hips bouncing off the door frame. Jane Summers was sitting in one of the chairs across from his desk. Her shoulder-length brown hair was dissheveled, looking as if it were resting uncomfortably on the top of her head. Her glasses sat near the end of her nose, the lens mis-aligned with her eyes.
Gary stopped, turned, closed the door to his office. He turned back to Jane, saw her wipe sweat from her brow. He thought about the time. “Did you walk here?”
Jane Summers shook her head. “Ran.”
Gary took a step towards his chair, then changed direction, took a seat next to Jane’s. He put a hand on her shoulder, was relieved when she didn’t flinch or pull away. “Your car break down again?”
Jane’s eyes snapped wide as her head jerked up. “Car! Again, with the car.”
Gary’s mouth opened slowly, in acknowledgement that he needed to respond, but no words came. A knock sounded on the door, and Gary rose. “I need to get this.” He rushed to the door, opening it to reveal a tall man, in his early 20s, a thin moustache under thick glasses.
“Scott!” Jane’s excited voice surprised both men at the door. “You’re here too!”
Scott smiled. “No place I’d rather be.”
“Jane’s having a — ” Gary glanced back at Jane — “rough morning.” He turned back to Scott. “Did you find the Route 20 files?”
Jane rose quickly from her chair, pointed at Gary. “That, too! What are these files you keep talking about?”