Текст книги "Stinger"

Автор книги: Mia Sheridan

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Текущая страница: 9 (всего у книги 22 страниц)

CHAPTER 12

Grace

I heard the shower turn on and sat down in the chair at the desk to check my phone and shoot Abby another quick text. I had been sending them to her since I had talked to her and told her about staying with Carson. She wanted to know that I was okay. I didn't blame her–if the positions had been reversed and she was spending the weekend with a stranger, I'd want her to check in frequently too.

Carson hadn't told me exactly what happened with his fans, but he looked disturbed. And truthfully, just hearing about them had me a little disturbed too. I needed to shake it off. This was our last night together and I wanted to enjoy it. I sat biting my lip for a minute. I had enjoyed the presentation downstairs, but my mind had continually wandered to Carson and the fact that we were going to be saying goodbye in the morning. Maybe we could keep in touch somehow? Was that completely stupid and unrealistic? We needed to talk about this, and in a way I looked forward to it, to potentially figuring out a way not to have to say goodbye forever. God, but in a way I dreaded it. I was pretty sure he'd tell me he felt the same way, but what if he didn't? What if he was still planning on the quick, permanent break we had arranged? He had called us "friends." Did he want to remain "friends?" Or did he–

A knock sounded at the door and interrupted my thoughts. The shower was still going so I walked over to it and pulled it open. A middle aged, short, balding man in khakis and a sport coat was standing on the other side. He looked surprised to see me. "Carson here?" he asked, furrowing his brow.

"Oh, he is but he's in the shower. Do you, uh, want to wait for him, or…"

He sighed, looking annoyed. "I'm his agent, Tim." He looked me up and down, his eyes narrowing and filling with something that made me squirm. "Well, I can see why he shut his phone off and blew everything else off this weekend," he finally said. "You're quite the hot piece of ass, aren't you?"

My eyes widened in shock. "I–"

"Listen, just tell him I stopped by, since he's not taking any calls, and I apparently missed him downstairs earlier at the naked boob signing." He snickered. "Let him know his shoot tomorrow morning has been moved back to eleven. And girlie, do everyone involved a favor and go easy on his cock tonight. The whole shoot depends on him being able to get it up. If you've worn him out, no one is gonna be happy–especially Bambi–the girl who's looking forward to fucking him. Got it?"

There was a lot there that made my heart drop into my feet, and I felt bile rising up my throat, but I wasn't going to let this greasy sleazeball see that. I stood taller and formed my face into what I hoped was a bored expression. "I'll tell him, Tim," I said, my voice cracking slightly, but my eyes remaining steady.

"Good," he said, starting to turn away. Then he turned back and his beady, little rat eyes assessed me again. "You know," he said, running one finger down my cheek to which I flinched away, "you've got a really good look–sexy yet innocent. You'd look great on film. When you're done with Carson tonight, why don't you come down to my room and we can do some role playing–see what your acting skills are like… among other things." His eyes filled with lust and he adjusted himself in his pants as his eyes moved down to my breasts and lingered there. I felt like I was going to throw up.

I had no words. If this weekend had taught me anything, it was that I was a lot more frazzle-able than I thought. I pushed the door closed in his face.

I leaned unsteadily against it, choking the vomit down. Carson had a shoot tomorrow morning. With a girl named Bambi. I laughed a small, hysterical laugh. Was it some kind of bestiality porn? I felt a small sob coming up my throat and swallowed it down. I was not going to cry about this. It was what he did. I knew this. Yes, I knew it, but it was the one thing I hadn't allowed myself to truly think about during our time together. I kept his job on the back burner, not denying it exactly, just refusing to fully consider the reality of it. We were going to spend the night together, he was going to be inside me tonight and then inside Bambi in the morning? My heart clenched painfully. I was sickened.

I looked up as Carson suddenly appeared in the bedroom doorway from the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist. He smiled over at me, but then his smile disappeared as he took me in. "Buttercup?" he asked.

"Your agent Tim came by," I whispered. "He wanted to let you know that your shoot with Bambi in the morning has been moved to eleven."

He froze and his eyes closed for a couple beats. Then he opened them and said simply, "I'm sorry, Buttercup." And that's when I felt my heart truly crack.

* * *

Carson

My heart beat like thunder in my chest as I took her in from across the room. Shit, shit, shit! Fucking Tim! I hadn't wanted Grace to know about my shoot. I had avoided thinking about it myself. But it was reality, and I knew I'd have to face it eventually. I was just sorry as hell that Grace had to face it too.

"Grace," I started, walking toward her. She shrunk back and that small movement made me want to slam my fist into the wall. I looked at her pleadingly. "Grace, you knew what I did…"

She looked up at me with eyes filled with hurt. "I know," she whispered. "I guess I just didn't think you'd be going directly from me to someone else." She shook her head.

"It's not like that, Grace. It's work," I said quietly.

She nodded, biting her lip. "The thing is, Carson, how do you separate the two? I never asked you anything about what you do because I didn't want to think about it–not truly. But now I want to know. How do you separate real life from 'work'?"

I stared at her and told her the truth. "I've only made four films, Grace. Like I told you in the elevator, I don't exactly enjoy it, but it was always easy enough for me. Before."

"Before what?" she asked, her eyes searching mine.

"Before you. You've changed things for me." And as the words tumbled from my mouth, I realized that she had. I wasn't sure exactly how or what that meant, but I knew it was true.

She stared at me, blinking. "So what are you going to do then?" she asked quietly.

I scrubbed a hand down my face. "What can I do?" I asked, raising my voice, feeling the anger and frustration of the situation fill me. "I have a two-year contract, and I'm only six months into it. I'll get sued if I break it. And what the fuck else am I going to do, Grace? Work at a gas station? I don't have a college degree. I don't have any other prospects. I don't have anything to offer you," I said, the misery washing over me in the truth of my statement. I'd never felt more worthless.

Her eyes had filled with tears at my words. She looked down and shook her head. After a minute she sighed and started walking toward me. "I'm sorry, this isn't fair. I knew what you did and now I'm holding it against you. It's just… it didn't hurt two days ago. It hurts now," she finished quietly.

I slumped my shoulders, defeated. This was a no-win situation. I had thought we'd figure out a way to make something work, but how? What? It was true–I had nothing to offer her. She couldn't deal with what I did and still be a part of my life, and I didn't blame her. How would I feel if Grace was going off to make a film with some other guy tomorrow morning? I wouldn't care that it was "work," it would freak me the fuck out. Jealousy charged through me at just the thought alone.

I had told her that we were friends, and we were, but we were more too–what exactly, I wasn't sure and there was no way for us to explore any of it. The fact that we lived in two different cities was the very least of our challenges.

And as far as my job, I had few to no good options aside from what I was doing right in the moment. I had spent a lot of money in Vegas, not that I'd tell her that, and I needed the contract installment that tomorrow's shoot would bring me to replenish my bank account.

"Isn't there anything else you've thought of doing?" she asked warily. "I mean, surely you couldn't have planned to do this forever."

"I don't have a plan, Grace! You're the one with the plan!" I yelled out, hating myself, so filled with regret and frustration that I lashed out at her. My voice sounded broken, even to my own ears.

She looked at me so sadly. I wanted to make it better for her, but I couldn't. I was worthless and powerless and the girl I cared about was standing in front of me with tears in her eyes, and there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it.

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes very briefly. "I don't want to lose you, Buttercup, but I don't have a plan," I said miserably. "I'm so sorry, so sorry." I raked both hands through my hair, grimacing and turning away from her.

"Come to D.C., Carson. Stay with me. We can figure something out." I turned back around to her at her words. "Maybe you could enroll in college there… or…" she trailed off, her eyes losing the look of desperation that had been in them a moment before. Now she was frowning and looking sad and uncertain.

I studied her. My sweet Buttercup. "I can't stay on your couch mooching off of you, Grace. If this," I waved my arm around the room indicating where we had started, "was an unlikely way for anything real to begin, that situation would be the worst idea in the history of bad relationship ideas. What would your dad think? I wouldn't do that to you–to us."

Her eyes met mine and we looked at each other for long minutes. I could see that she was out of ideas too. The sadness coming off of her was palpable.

She sighed heavily and looked down. "This is going to hurt more if I stay with you until tomorrow morning," she said quietly. "I can't stand it hurting any more than it does now."

I nodded, my jaw clenching and something inside pulling tight and snapping. "I know," I said.

She nodded again and stood up and started gathering her things. I sat silently, staring ahead, hating life, hating myself and my stupid choices, and most of all hating the fact that we could never explore what was blossoming between us.

When she was done, she came over to me and knelt down in front of me just as I had done to her yesterday. She looked up at me with tears shimmering in her big, blue eyes. "I'll always think of you when I get on an elevator or see a sunrise," she said quietly, her voice breaking on the last word.

I looked down at her and gave her a small smile, my heart thudding hollowly in my chest. I would never know what we could have been together and it felt so fucking unfair. I thought of all the things that would make me think of her, too many to mention them all. "I'll always think of you when I watch Titanic… or see a Buttercup," I said.

She smiled sadly, standing up slowly and kissing me on my lips gently, lingering there as she put her hand on my cheek. She turned away too quickly for me to see her face and she opened the door and closed it quietly behind her.

I stood up and grabbed the vase of flowers off the desk and hurled it at the wall. Glass shattered and water and flowers rained down as I sat back down on the bed heavily and put my head in my hands.

The Eagle

CHAPTER 13

Grace

I closed the door behind me and the tears started to fall. I knew this was the right thing to do–I couldn't stay a minute longer knowing where he was headed in the morning, and knowing that my heart was involved. But it didn't change the fact that I was forcing myself to leave. It didn't change the fact that it hurt to leave. It didn't change the stark misery that had washed over his face when he realized I was leaving. As I stepped on the elevator and the doors closed behind me, I swiped at my cheeks and leaned back against the wall.

This is where it had started. On an elevator. And now here I was on an elevator again–only this time it was ending. And I didn't want it to. I wanted to go back in time and do it all over again, even knowing what I now knew, just to spend a couple more days with him.

I stepped off and made my way to my room and let myself in. I sank down on the bed and curled into a ball, allowing myself to sob. When the worst of it had passed, I stood up and went to the bathroom and washed my face. Then I changed into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt and started packing. There was no way I was staying in this hotel with Carson a couple floors above me. There were several reasons for this, mainly that I simply didn't trust myself not to run back to his room and fling myself at him. But to what end? I shook my head sadly. I had gotten myself into this situation. But how would I have known that I would develop feelings for Carson Stinger, Straight Male Performer? It was almost ludicrous, even now that it was my reality. But that was a thought I would have had a couple days ago. Now? Now it wasn't really ludicrous at all. Because what I didn't know at the time was that he had an impossibly sweet side, and that he was exciting and brave and generous in every way possible. Did I wish I had never been given this information? Would I rather go back to the time when it was easy to walk away from him, if I had to agree that I would never experience the beauty of our weekend? I was too hurt and confused to answer those questions right now.

I put my large bag over my shoulder and pulled the handle up on my suitcase and rolled it out the door.

I checked out quickly and went outside to wait for the shuttle to the airport. I prayed that there was a flight I could get on tonight but if not, I'd sleep at the airport. It wasn't much of a plan. I almost laughed, but caught myself. Then I almost sobbed and caught myself again. I bit my lip.

The shuttle picked me up fifteen minutes later and I looked back over my shoulder at the Bellagio. I'd become a different person this weekend. Carson had changed me in ways that I suspected were going to make me look at all my decisions differently, make me re-evaluate all my "well-made" plans. I was going to take that with me now and think of him as a gift, as much as my heart was breaking with loss. It was all I had to hold onto so that I didn't demand that the shuttle driver stop and let me out so that I could go running back to him. I leaned my head back on the seat and let the mixture of heartbreak and hope wash over me, bathing my heart in both darkness and in light.

* * *

I wheeled my suitcase into my apartment the next morning at seven thirty, exhausted in every way possible. I had been able to change my flight to a red-eye, and had sat around the airport for several hours waiting until boarding started. I had tried to sleep once I got on the plane, but my mind wouldn't let me, too active to shut down and allow me some rest.

I went over every minute of my weekend with Carson, trying to pinpoint the exact moment when I handed him a piece of my heart. Had it been over hot dogs that first night? After the amazing sex? Laughing in the pool? When he told me he was jealous of Parker, revealing that he had feelings for me too? Or had it been sooner than that? Maybe in the elevator when he sang to me to keep me from panicking? When I discovered why he put on that false front of his? Was it possible to connect to another person that quickly? I wanted to scream! Shut down, brain! Why did it even matter? I was like Rainman playing, "Who's on First," over and over and over.

"Hey Pod Person!" I heard called from the kitchen and I left my suitcase and bag at the door, and walked in to greet Abby.

"Hi Abs," I said in a voice even I realized sounded dead. Abby was sitting at our small kitchen table in a pair of sweat pants and a long-sleeved t-shirt, her dark brown hair up in a messy pile on top of her head, a cup of coffee and some papers and a pen in front of her.

At the sight of me, her eyes widened and her expression turned concerned. "What'd he do to you?" she whispered, standing up and coming over to me.

I shook my head as my face crumbled and my emotions welled up at the sight of the comfort of my best friend. "He didn't do anything to me, Abby. I did it to myself. I–" I choked and the tears started coming.

Abby pulled me to her, stroking my back and hugging me silently for several minutes as I got a hold of myself. When my tears had subsided, she pulled back and looked into my face, her expression stern.

"I can't believe you did this to us, Grace," she said.

A laugh burst out of me. "To us?" I asked. "How exactly do you figure I did anything to us?"

She pushed a piece of hair behind my ear. "Because, honey, I love you, and so we're going to deal with the aftermath of this weekend together. I'm busy. And still itchy. I hardly have time for this." She raised her eyebrows, a corner of her lip quirking up. She was trying to make me smile. It worked. I loved her.

"Now sit. I'll get you a cup of coffee and you tell me all the details. I don't have to be at class until eleven." Abby was in school at one of the best culinary institutes in the D.C. area. Her cooking was to die for. If I ever indulged, it was to try out one of her recipes. I was never disappointed. We had met on a roommate search site when I had first moved to D.C and not only hit it off as roommates, but had become best friends as well. She was funny and sweet and just slightly outrageous when she wanted to be. She was good for me. She was my third sister.

She poured me a cup of coffee and added cream and sugar to it and put it in front of me. I wrapped my hands around the warm mug and brought it to my mouth, taking a small sip of the hot liquid.

Abby studied me. "At least tell me you didn't fall in love with him, honey," she said quietly.

"It was a weekend, Abby," I said back quietly as well, looking away from her.

She stared into my eyes. "Oh shit. You idiot. You totally did! You fell in love with the porn star!" She groaned, leaning back and sliding down in her chair. "Oh God, this is worse than I thought. When you let loose, you really go all out, don't you girlfriend? Holy crapola."

"Abby, I didn't fall in love in two days. I just… I care about him. I didn't want to say goodbye," I said miserably.

"Start at the beginning, hon. I want a play-by-play, and I know you're sad, but don't gloss over sexytimes."

I laughed and then sniffled. "You're really a perv, you know that?"

"Uh huh. I make no apologies. Now go."

We talked until she had to shower and leave for class. I cried a little more. Then I went into my room, did a face plant on my bed, and didn't wake up until Abby was walking back in the door at six that night.

* * *

Carson

I went straight from the airport to the hotel where my shoot was being held, knowing that I could shower there. They'd need to prep me for the cameras anyway. I was used to the drill.

I had barely slept for two hours the night before, listening to every sound in the hallway, hoping against hope that Grace would decide to come back. There was no way I could go to her after the way we'd parted… we had said our goodbyes. I couldn't make it any harder on her. But, I thought maybe she'd change her mind and decide to stay just one more night with me. And so instead of going to the airport like I'd thought about, I stayed in the room where she'd know I'd be. But she hadn't come back. I understood. It still sucked. And the worst part of it all was that I missed her in a way I'd never missed anyone else before. Every instinct in me told me to charge after her, claim her as mine. But we had gone over it. It wasn't possible. Our lives didn't mesh, and there was nothing we could do right now to make that happen.

I had thought about her all night, wondering what it was about her that had gotten under my skin so deeply, so quickly. Maybe I was trying to figure it out so I could dismiss the feeling of loss that I couldn't shake. In the end, I decided that there wasn't an answer. It was just because she was her, and it was really just as simple as that. It didn't matter anyway, but my brain kept turning it over until I thought I'd go crazy.

I knocked on the door of the suite number Courtney had texted me that morning, and was let in by a cameraman I had worked with before. "Hey Joe," I greeted him.

"Hey Carson, how's it going?" He shook my hand.

"Is makeup set up in there?" I asked, indicating a closed door leading to what I assumed was the bedroom and bathroom.

"Yeah. They're waiting for you."

"Okay," I said and headed in. When I opened the door, I was greeted by Courtney who mouthed 'hi' to me as she put her hand over the cell phone she was talking into.

"Hi, Carson!" I heard a high-pitched voice say. "I'm Bambi." A naked blonde with large, obviously fake breasts said from a makeup chair over by the window. A woman with a small makeup brush was applying something to Bambi's nipples.

I smiled tightly. I was so not into this. Just get through it and get paid, I reminded myself. "Hey, Bambi, nice to meet you," I said, walking over and shaking her hand.

She giggled. "Is that the best you got for me honey?" she asked, standing and swatting the makeup person aside as she leaned in to kiss me softly on the lips, running her tongue over my bottom one before leaning back on a smile I'm sure she thought was seductive. Why she was bothering, I wasn't sure. I thought it was pretty obvious that I was a sure thing here, whether I wanted to be or not. Fuck. Why was I suddenly feeling ill?

I smiled at her again and asked, "This your first shoot?"

"Yes, and I specifically asked for you for my first time," she batted her eyelashes. "I've had a crush on you since I saw your picture on Courtney's website. This is gonna be fun!"

Interesting. I backed away. "Well, I gotta shower, but I'll be out in a few," I said, turning.

"I'll be ready for you!" she called after me.

I went into the bathroom and took a quick shower, and then asked the makeup people if they could pull the chair into the bathroom. I wasn't in the mood to chat with Bambi, or anyone for that matter. I needed some time to get my head in the game here, so to speak. Or at the very least, my body.

Unlike the longer-length films I had done, this was just a one-day shoot so at least it'd be over after today.

Thankfully makeup wasn't a big production on a shoot like this one, especially for me. Anything applied would just rub off so not much was used. Courtney came in and kissed my cheek. "Hey babe," she said. "You look tired." She looked at the girl touching me up. "Put some concealer under his eyes Marcia."

"I'm fine, Courtney. Dim the lights."

"Even dim lights won't hide those bags, love. What'd you do? Stay up all night partying?"

I snorted. "I wish."

Marcia rubbed something under my eyes and blotted it and then signaled that she was done.

Courtney looked down at my boxers. "Need some time alone, hon?"

"Yeah," I answered already wondering if I'd be able to get it up at all.

"Okay, the shoot calls for Bambi to touch herself for a few minutes on the bed and then you come join her, ready to start the party, got it? You'll move out on to the balcony after a few minutes and continue there."

"Yeah. Okay."

"Good." She looked at me for a couple beats, but then cleared out and closed the door behind her.

I stood there still for a couple minutes as I heard the music start in the bedroom beyond. I dropped my boxers and leaned back on the sink and tried to get in the mood. It wasn't working. I thought about all the sex I'd had this weekend with Grace. Maybe I had overdone it. Grace. I felt a twitch and as I pictured her bent over the bed in heels and a thong, begging for me to take her, I hardened fully. I pictured all of the ways I had taken her over the weekend and after a couple minutes, I was painfully hard.

There was a soft knock on the door indicating they were ready for me. I walked out and watched for a minute as Bambi writhed on the bed, moaning in an over-the-top way, her hand between her legs. I almost lost my erection. I closed my eyes and pictured Grace again and moved toward the bed. I joined Bambi and as I sat down beside her, she sat up slightly and started kissing me, thrusting her tongue in my mouth and moaning loudly. I almost grimaced. She didn't taste like sunshine and sweetness. I opened my eyes and looked down her body. Her skin wasn't pale and creamy, it was dark and overly tanned. I shut my eyes quickly and tried to bring Grace to mind. I had to keep her face and body in my brain if I was going to do this. I reached up to touch her hair and it wasn't heavy silk in my hand, it was dry and crispy with hairspray. We continued kissing and she brought her hand up to my cheek, the one that she had used to touch herself. I smelled her essence on her hand and that was it. I broke away from her and stood up. "Sorry," I muttered. "Not your fault but this isn't working for me."

"Cut!" I heard yelled.

I walked into the bathroom, retrieved my clothes and started pulling them on as Courtney's voice sounded at the door. "Carson, babe, if you need a little more time or maybe a blue pill I've got you covered."

I opened the door, pulling on my shoes. I pushed past Courtney. "Sorry, Courtney, I really am. But I can't do this anymore." I looked around the room in general, catching sight of a pouting Bambi pulling a robe on in the corner. "I'm sorry for wasting all of your time. I don't know what to say. I'm just… sorry." Then I walked to the door of the suite, opened it and closed it behind me quietly.

* * *

I walked back to the elevators and pushed the "down" button. What the fuck had I just done? I was gonna get sued and I'd never make a film again. So why didn't I give even a small rat's ass right now? I was basically penniless and jobless and I felt… fine. What exactly are you going to do now fuckwit? What about a fucking plan before you do some shit like that? I laughed out loud. A plan. I reached both hands up and laced my fingers together, putting them on my forehead and letting my head fall back. I stood like that for a minute until I heard the elevator ding and the doors start to open. I dropped my hands and started stepping toward it, when I saw who was getting off. Shit! Tim.

He looked surprised. "Carson," he said, frowning, "you can't be done already." He looked down at his watch, his frown deepening. The elevator doors closed behind him and he took a step closer to me.

I took a deep breath. "The shoot is over, Tim. But only because I walked out."

His brows snapped down. "You walked out? What the hell is going on?"

I shook my head slightly. "Listen, Tim, I would have called you later to let you know. But I'm done. I'm not gonna be making films anymore."

He looked at me for a second, his eyes narrowing. Then he let out a sharp laugh, lacking in any humor. "Well, Goddamn. She must have been one hell of a fuck for you to throw your whole career away. Now I really wish she had taken me up on my offer to join me in my hotel room."

I jolted. "Your offer?" I asked, watching him closely for a couple beats. "Your fucking offer?" I repeated, realization that Tim had propositioned Grace when he came to my hotel room the day before, crashing into me.

I moved on him before he even knew what was coming, grabbing his dress shirt and walking him backwards until I slammed him against the wall. Rage was pumping through my blood as I got right up in his face. "You sick, depraved mother fucker. How dare you speak to her like that! How dare you even fucking look at her! I should beat the living shit out of you!"

"What the fuck are you doing?" he interrupted, yelling. "Over a piece of ass, Carson? Over a fucking piece of ass?"

A coldness spread through me as I took him in for a beat, balled up my fist and smashed it into his face. Blood spurted from his nose and I let go of him, letting him sink to the floor. He looked up at me dazedly.

I stepped back and pushed the elevator button again. That same coldness took over my body, the feeling that I was watching the scene from above washing through me. In that moment, something felt like it clicked into place, my body jolting slightly. "I'll no longer require your representation, Tim," I said, without emotion. I felt nothing for the sleazy asshole bleeding on the floor in front of me, nothing but hollow contempt. The elevator doors opened and I stepped into it, my eyes never leaving him as the doors between us closed.

* * *

I hopped in my car, a black Nissan Pathfinder that I had bought six months ago after signing with Courtney, and sat there without starting it for a couple minutes, staring unseeing out my window. I leaned forward and banged my head on the steering wheel, resting there for a minute as I cleared my head. I leaned up and started my car and drove like a homing pigeon to the entrance of the freeway. As I drove, I glanced up at a billboard I'd seen a thousand times driving through this part of the city, and my eyes drank it in for the first time, seeing it from a different perspective now. A feeling flowed through me that I couldn't explain, a strange energy that suddenly pulsed through my veins at the idea forming in my brain. Without thinking too much, I pulled out my phone and looked up an address on the Internet. I turned on my GPS and followed the prompts until I arrived at my destination in Santa Monica about twenty minutes later. I parked and got out of my car before I could talk myself out of this. As I was pulling the door open, I glanced up at the sign, Navy Recruiting.

One chance to change your mind, Carson. I paused for a second, but then pulled the door fully open.

I walked in and was immediately greeted by a man wearing a khaki uniform, with a nametag and a few ribbons on his shirt. "Can I help you?" he asked.

Was I really going to do this? Grace's face popped into my head. "I'm here to enlist," I said.

"Well, okay then, I'm your guy," he said on a big smile. "Come on over with me. I'm Petty Officer First Class, Duane Mitchell," he said, stopping to shake my hand quickly and then continuing on to his desk. He sat behind it and indicated a chair on the other side. I sat down.