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“How do you like it here?” he asked unexpectedly.

“I like it very much. Thank you.”

“At the moment, there is not much to do, as you might have noticed.”

“That’s to be expected with a newly founded company, Mr. Beckford. I’m sure your company will be well on its way shortly.”

Beckford leaned against the window, his eyes on Amy. She’s really cute when I look at her carefully, he said to himself. Soft curves. I would love to know how old she is. I can find out from her insurance card. Well, it’s not like I care. While filing his nails, he said out loud, ostensibly without thinking: “It won’t be long, I can tell you that, before you’ll have so much work that you won’t be able to do it all yourself.”

“I am used to hard work, Mr. Beckford. The more intense it is, the more I love it. I don’t mind overtime either. Not at all. Even if I have to work till eleven or midnight.”

“That will probably only happen rarely, Amy. As soon as business picks up, you’ll get all the help you need, especially with the menial work that a girl with little experience can do just as well. I need you here for the really important job of my private secretary, whom I can trust unconditionally with all business and personal affairs.”

“You can trust me absolutely, Mr. Beckford. I’ll consider it an honor to be allowed to serve as your preferred private secretary.”

Beckford walked a few steps back and forth but kept his distance from her.

“Now, I remember, I have to send an important letter,” he said, stopping in the middle of the room. At once, Amy had her shorthand pad in hand.

“It can wait till tomorrow,” he said, shrugging.

Suddenly remembering something, she got up from her chair a little, took a deep breath.

“Oh, Mr. Beckford, I almost forgot. I would like to thank you so much for the raise. You know, Mr. Beckford, money just runs through one’s fingers these days.”

“Who told you about the raise?” he asked, although he knew that the message could have come from one person only. “I had planned to tell you myself on Saturday afternoon to make your weekend a happy one.”

“Oh,” she exclaimed, covering her mouth with a girlish gesture of horror. “Oh, I shouldn’t have said anything. But Miss Norval called an hour ago and told me that the real work starts next week, and that you’re granting me a raise for that reason.”

“Well, as I said, I had planned to surprise you with this news myself. However, I can see that Miss Norval had the same idea. The main thing is that you are happy here, Amy.”

“I am very happy here. I couldn’t have a better situation,” she said as she gently smoothed down her hair.

He walked back over to the window and, bored, he looked at the street for a few seconds.

Amy was cleaning the type slugs of the typewriter. It was brand-new, and nothing had ever been written on it. Beckford thought: Unless Amy has typed a dozen love letters on it. It made him think of his impression when he had met Amy there for the first time.

“What are you doing tonight?” he asked, so suddenly that it took Amy’s breath away for a few seconds, since she thought she had misheard.

“Tonight?” she repeated, more to make sure she had heard right than to answer his question.

“Yes, tonight.”

“Oh—I—um—I have no plans in particular. Actually, I had planned to go to the movies. The only thing you can do on a weeknight when you have to work the next day.”

“So, the movies?”

“Yes, they are showing a new film, which seems to be very interesting. You know, juicy.”

“What’s it called?”

Your Past—the Despair of Your Present. And the subtitle is: ‘Everything women and girls of marriageable age need to know to avoid such a fate.’ Sounds interesting, don’t you think, Mr. Beckford?”

“Sounds like real trash of the worst kind.”

“Well, in any case,” she said, looking for a lipstick in her purse, “in any case, it must be a very provocative film, don’t you think?”

“Do you need provocation, Amy?” he asked as if he were inquiring what she had eaten for breakfast that morning.

“I’m not sure whether I really need something provocative or not,” she answered coolly, holding the lipstick she had finally found and fishing in her purse for a small mirror with the other hand. “You know, sometimes I’m actually so aroused that I could commit the greatest nonsense.”

She doesn’t take this very seriously, Beckford thought as he watched her carefully color the full curves of her lips.

“And then there are times,” she continued, “when nothing at all can excite me.” Even the hottest film leaves me stone-cold and the wildest kisses on the screen bore me. And why do they bore me? Because they are so extremely dumb and silly and put on without any feelings at all, exactly like the director ordered, standing there with a stopwatch. Can you tell me how a girl could feel bone-dry one day and burning up inside the next?”

“Why are you asking me, Amy? I’ve never been a girl, and maybe not even a girl could answer this question in a satisfactory manner.”

“Of course you can’t, because a man has his profession, which occupies him so thoroughly that he has no time at all to consider any emotions.”

“But you also have a career, Amy.”

“But it doesn’t fulfill me. I just sit here and have nothing at all to do. All manner of thoughts occur to you in a situation like this.”

Suddenly she stopped talking, and an expression of shock crossed her face as she lowered the lipstick and mirror.

“Oh, I am so sorry that I let my guard down and did my makeup in front of you. It’s time for me to go home and I did it automatically. Please forgive me.”

Pure woman, Beckford thought. In any case, this is the woman I plan to get to know more intimately today.

Out loud he said: “Indeed, it is time for you to go home. And yet, you have only partially answered my question about your plans tonight.”

“Why partially?”

“You have not answered whether you are accepting my invitation?”

“Invitation? What invitation?” she asked, raising her eyebrows, picking her lipstick and mirror back up from her lap. “You didn’t say anything about an invitation. At least not until this very moment.”

“I mean the invitation to go out with me tonight,” said Beckford without approaching or looking at her.

“Now that sounds more explicit.” Again, she dropped her lipstick and mirror in her lap and turned toward him. “An invitation, then.”

“I’d like to get to know you a little more, Amy. Since we’re going to work closely together for some time, I’m sure that it’s mutually beneficial if we find out what we each think about this, that, and the other in daily life.”

“I agree. I’d also like to know how I have to behave to avoid misunderstanding, as much as that’s possible in such an office.”

Now, finally, Beckford turned toward her and laughed. “Whether we see the movie first or eat dinner first, let’s talk about when we should meet, okay?”

“You never said anything about dinner.”

Amy was starting to get playful now.

“Absolutely. Dinner is a given, Amy, whether we see the film or not. Where and when should we meet?”

“Eight o’clock, near the exit of the subway station in north Times Square.”

“Excellent, I will wait for you there,” said Beckford in a businesslike manner. “Okay. Eight o’clock. See you then.”

With those words he left the room through the main door.