Reality returned as Danny steered her away from the seawall and up to a tall white apartment building.
“Is this where the interview is?” Aggie asked stupidly, all peace flown.
Danny nodded.
“So you did manage to get me an interview?” Aggie persisted.
“No.”
The word didn’t sound like an admission or an apology, just a simple statement of fact. Aggie stopped and pulled her elbow from her guide’s grip.
“Then why are we here, Danny?” she demanded.
“I’ll get you in.”
The young man sounded so calm and assured, Aggie almost believed him. After all, he was the man’s brother. Danny walked through the lobby and she followed. He stopped at a small elevator in a side hall. The door opened at his touch and he escorted her inside. Aggie’s anxiety flooded back. She felt ugly and stupid. She would never pull off the deception. The lawyer would see through her in a minute. Even if he didn’t, she was too ugly and stupid to convince him to let Angela be the twelve-day woman.
Through her panic, Aggie noticed that the elevator had only two buttons. One said ‘office’ and the other had no sign. Danny pressed ‘office’. They ascended swiftly, surely more than two floors. Aggie guessed that the elevator carried them to the top of the building. They stepped out onto a plush burnt orange carpet. A receptionist sat behind a large semi-circular desk. Two hallways, left and right, led back from the desk into the bowels of the office. No doors were visible from Aggie’s viewpoint. The lobby might have been designed to intimidate.
Aggie glanced at her watch. It was almost eleven.
“Put Ms. Trout in a room.” Danny told the receptionist
“Yes, Mr. Buko.” Aggie watched as she pressed a button behind the counter.
“When the others are done, send her in to Richard.” It was the longest sentence Aggie had heard Danny say.
“He won’t be happy,” the receptionist looked nervous.
“Tell him I said to interview her.”
“Of course, Mr. Buko.”
“Danny,” Aggie interrupted. “I don’t think this is such a good idea. If the lawyer really doesn’t want to see me…”
“Everything will be fine.” Danny’s voice held no reassurance, only conviction. He continued to the receptionist. “At 12:45, have her brought back out here to me.”
Then he vanished.
The first thing Aggie did after a young woman escorted her to an office was to pull the tape recorder from her pocket. She saw to her dismay that she had pressed ‘rewind’ instead of ‘record’. She memorized the location of the correct button and replaced the recorder in her pocket. She tried the button. Then she pulled the recorder back out. Bingo. As she went to put the device back in her pocket, Aggie thought of a complication. It was too hot. She couldn’t wear her coat to the interview. She shrugged out of the jacket and laid it across a small table. Then she pushed the ‘record’ button and put it in her purse. Angela had brought a loosely woven tapestry bag for this very purpose. The tape was for ninety minutes. Surely it wouldn’t run out before the interview.
Aggie checked her watch fifteen times over the ensuing hour. The time went no faster for her prodding. The room she sat in was pleasantly cluttered. Obviously someone’s unused office, it exuded family and warmth. Aggie sat glued to her chair for the first few minutes, two watch-checks, afraid someone would catch her if she snooped. Then she dragged the chair a foot closer to the desk and leaned in. The only visible paper was upside down to her. She struggled to decipher the text. It was a grocery list.
She examined the photographs behind the desk. A man, a man and a woman, and a man, woman and baby. A woman’s desk then. A man wouldn’t keep a solo picture of himself. The woman was in her late twenties, about Aggie’s age. With a husband and baby. Aggie felt a pang of envy. The bookshelf contained volumes of computer manuals. The woman must be a programmer. Aggie checked her watch for the tenth time.
Finally, at 12:33, the same young woman came back to the door.
“Mr. Urbano will see you now.”
Urbano. Aggie tucked the name away into her small stack of evidence. TransGlobe. Danny Buko. Urbano. English Bay. She followed the secretary down the hall. They arrived shortly at an imposing door. Aggie guessed from the glimpses she caught through open doors and windows that this office must have a great view of the water. Probably the head honcho’s. The young woman rapped once and then swung open the door.
“I’m afraid there’s been a mistake.” The man behind the desk spoke as Aggie entered the room. Aggie ignored his comment.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Urbano.” She walked forward with her hand outstretched. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
The man’s eyes took in her appearance. The perusal was more invigorating than invading.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you too, Miss Trout.”
Aggie walked to a chair in front of the desk and sat down.
“I’m afraid you have wasted your time,” the man began with an apologetic smile.
“Mr. Urbano,” Aggie countered, “Danny told me to come to Vancouver. He brought me here to your office.”
“Actually this isn’t my office.”
“Wouldn’t it be easier to just interview me? I’m here.”
“My client wants an honest woman, Miss Trout.”
“My name is Aggie,” she offered with what she hoped was an ingratiating smile. “And I am an honest woman.”
Most of the time, she added mentally.
“Why did you write from a New York post office box if you live and work in Cincinnati? “
“I was visiting my cousin. I explained that in my letter.”
“Why would you take a box if you were only visiting?”
“It was my s…cousin’s box.” Aggie hoped the small slip would pass unnoticed.
“How old are you?”
“I’m twenty-eight,” Aggie admitted as she and Angela had agreed. She hurried on. “I know you said thirty, but twenty-eight is close. I’ll be twenty-nine soon.”
“But you’re not thirty.”
“Look, Mr. Urbano, why don’t you ask me some real questions? I love reading and chess. I am the head librarian of a small branch library. Do you want me to recite the Dewey decimal system?”
For the first time, Richard cracked a smile. It lightened his expression from annoyed to merely suspicious.
“Why did Danny tell you to come to Vancouver?”
“To meet his brother.”
“I mean, why you? Why not one of the three thousand other rejects?”
“Three thousand?” Aggie echoed. “Whew.”
“I repeat, Miss Trout. Why you?”
“You’d have to ask Danny that, Mr. Urbano. Look, are you going to interview me?”
“I thought I was. You have an insinuating way, Miss Trout. I had no intention to listen to a word, and here we are, talking.”
Aggie smiled.
“But I’m afraid I can’t recommend you for the position.”
“Is that the missionary position?”
This time Richard laughed.
“All sorts of positions,” he admitted.
Maybe he was rethinking the rejection. The longer she kept him talking, the more likely he would relent. Just like a hostage situation. Keep them talking and avoid the ax. Aggie hurried on.
“I’m eager.” She and Angela had decided on the word as suggestive but not vulgar.
“What are you willing to do?”
Aggie sensed a challenge in the lawyer’s words. Still the descriptions stuck in her throat. She thought of Angela’s advice and remembered her sister’s plight.
“Anything.” The word was hampered by the gulp in her throat.
“Give me a list.” The man would not give in. Still, he hadn’t thrown her out of the office yet.
“Bondage?” she tried.
“Have you ever tried it?”