Beckett’s eyes shot open and his jaw dropped.
Theresa laughed. “Sure! What’s this bar I keep hearing about?”
“Ah, my fame precedes me. I play guitar at a local bar on Fridays. Sometimes I play during the week too.”
“You should have told me!” Theresa exclaimed.
Corbin smiled, but said nothing.
“Well?! Are you going to invite us to come hear you play?” Theresa’s head bobbed vigorously as she spoke. She routinely did this to suggest the appropriate response to her questions, and woe betide the conversationalist who ignored her suggestions. Corbin and Beckett often debated whether or not Theresa knew that she imparted these “gesticular admonitions,” but they didn’t want to risk asking.
“You’re welcome anytime, Theresa.”
Theresa considered Corbin’s invitation before responding in a suggestive tone. “You know, I just might take you up on that.” Her face instantly turned red, and she changed the topic. “Oh, I forgot to tell you, Kak assigned me to write Wilson’s speech for the conference.” Contempt permeated her words.
“Can’t Wilson write his own speeches?” Beckett asked with equal contempt.
Theresa smirked at Beckett. “Are you kidding? He Peter-Principled out three jobs ago. I’d be amazed if he could even tell you his own job description.” Theresa turned back to Corbin. “Frankly, I’m a little surprised Kak didn’t ask you, Alex. Weren’t you a speechwriter for that guy, the Democrat from somewhere?”
“Only for a year, while I was in college.”
Beckett, who was not a Democrat, booed from across the room.
Theresa ignored him. “Kak should have you write the damn thing. I don’t want to do it, that’s for sure.”
“I’d be happy to help you with it.”
“That’s probably what Kak was trying to prevent,” Beckett chimed in.
“What do you mean?” Theresa asked.
“Kak’s afraid Corbin will make a fool of Wilson.”
“I’m hurt. Would I do something like that?” Corbin asked with mock innocence.
Theresa and Beckett looked at each, but left the question unanswered.
Theresa continued. “Well, you’re welcome to help out if you want, or write the whole thing if you want. I really don’t care, and Kak never told me not to talk to you about it. It’s his own fault if he doesn’t check it before he reads it.”
“Ok, show me what you’ve got.”
“I haven’t got anything, yet. Give me some tips and I’ll start something. You can take it from there. That way at least I can say I wrote the original draft.”
“Speech writing is an art,” Corbin reflected. “You need to craft each sentence carefully, word by word, to convey the meaning efficiently and beautifully. You need to create a tempo, build to crescendos. The listener should be held in suspense, waiting for the next word, but once the word arrives, the listener should feel as though that word was inevitable.”
“How about something more practical?” Theresa asked.
“First rule, keep it simple. Always avoid long, complex sentences. They’re difficult to read and more difficult to follow. Watch out for ambiguities. Many words, like ‘notwithstanding’ can have multiple meanings depending on how you use them.”
“I use notwithstanding all the time,” Beckett offered.
“Notwithstanding your use, it’s ambiguous. Case in point, did I just say that it’s ambiguous whether you use it or not, or did I say it’s ambiguous except when you use it? Different people will interpret it differently. The word ‘may’ can do the same thing, so use ‘can’ or ‘must’ instead. When you choose your words, make sure you put them in the right order. There’s a huge difference between ‘I badly need to write’ and ‘I need to write badly.’”
“What about substance?” Theresa asked.
“Wilson speaks in buzzwords to hide his ignorance. Use words like ‘the mission,’ ‘goal oriented,’ ‘forward looking,’ and ‘paradigm’ as substitutes for real analysis. Just don’t use too many at once. He’ll probably want to tell a couple of jokes, nothing too offensive, but make sure the punch line leads into the point he’s making. I’d throw in some statistics to give the whole thing an air of thoroughness.”
“I should just give this to you to write.”
“I could be talked into that.”
Theresa tensed up. Her romantic interest in Corbin sometimes resulted in her ascribing particular meanings to otherwise innocent words and phrases. It often took Corbin a few moments to realize they were no longer talking about the same thing.
“What have you got in mind?” she asked, folding her arms tightly. Her leg shook nervously.
“What have you got?” Corbin asked, still unaware of the change in Theresa’s attitude.
“How about a beer at that bar of yours?” she suggested.
Before Corbin could respond, Molly appeared at the office door. Although she could not have missed Theresa’s presence, Molly initially acted as if she didn’t see Theresa. “Hey Corbin, I’m going for coffee, you want to-,” Molly stopped mid-sentence, having “now noticed” Theresa. “T!” she exclaimed with a false smile. “I didn’t see you.”
Theresa shuddered. “Am I doomed to find you everywhere I go today?” she asked rhetorically, without turning to face Molly.
“You should be so lucky,” Molly responded.
Theresa and Molly kept running into each other all morning. After an initial exchange of pleasantries, each encounter became progressively more combative, with both doing their best to get under the other’s skin. Molly was winning, because Theresa misunderstood the game.
“What can we do for you, Molly?” Corbin asked.
“I just came to see if you wanted to get coffee with me. I know how much you enjoy our chats.” Molly replaced her usual sarcasm with a pleasant, if not downright affectionate manner. This made Corbin suspicious.
“No, it’s pretty close to lunch time.”
“Oh, lunch sounds like a good idea. Where are you going?”
“I’m not sure,” Corbin lied.
Molly walked over next to Corbin. Theresa, still sitting on Corbin’s desk, sat about a foot to Molly’s right. “That’s a fantastic tie,” Molly gushed, as she reached out and stroked the yellow geometric shapes on Corbin’s blue and silver tie. “Where did you get it?”
Corbin saw Molly sneak a peek at Theresa, which told him the reason for her overly-friendly behavior. Flirting didn’t come easily to Theresa. And while she was aggressive in her pursuit of Corbin, one thing she seemed unable to do was make physical contact. For Molly, however, touching was just part of flirting and flirting came easily to her, especially when she didn’t mean it. Rubbing her fingers along Corbin’s tie was intended to taunt Theresa.
“Nordstroms,” he said, retrieving the tie from her hand and leaning back out of her reach.
“It’s really nice. So, what were you saying about lunch?”
“He wasn’t,” Theresa spat out. She wrinkled her brow and folded her arms even tighter.
Molly let her jaw drop and covered her mouth with her hand. She wagged a finger back and forth between Corbin and Theresa. “Oh gosh, did you two. .? I’m sorry, I didn’t know you two already had plans.”
“Drop it!” Theresa warned.
“Drop what, T? It’s not like everybody doesn’t know.”
“How dare you!”
Corbin jumped up before this could escalate and ushered them toward the door. “Come on, enough!” Corbin put his hands on Molly’s shoulders and guided her through the door first. As he did, behind him, he heard Theresa mumbling something about “big feet” and “limp hair.” In front of him, Molly turned and walked into her office, slamming the door. She was grinning from ear to ear. Corbin turned to eject Theresa, but she moved past him and stormed off down the hallway. Corbin stepped back into the office and closed the door.
With Molly and Theresa gone, Beckett turned on Corbin. Beckett was furious. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”