“Going back to what we were saying, before you so rudely interrupted me, tell me again why Skuzo is first on the door?” Amy asked, her feet propped up on the desk, her overpriced pumps crossed. She stared down Hank at his desk across the room.
“I told you, your money bought you into the business, but it was MY business. You wanted your name first, you should’ve started your own detective agency.”
He blew a cloud of cigarette smoke out the open window.”
Amy grabbed her chest in mock horror, her eyes wide, “It’s because I’m a woman! You, you, you-”
The phone on her desk rang.
“Little and Skuzo!” She answered, sticking out her tongue at Hank.
She listened intently, and then her face fell.
“No, thanks, not interested.”
She hung up the phone and sighed heavily.
“I’ve been here three hours, and this is worse than that time I temped at a pillow factory. I organized four years worth of files. And you know what it-”
The phone rang on Hank’s desk. He picked it up.
“Skuzo and Little.” He said.
He listened as the caller talked for a moment then he said,”Is your refrigerator running?” he paused, “Good, go fuck yourself.” He said, and he hung up the phone.
“Jesus.” Amy said. She had sat up in her chair. “That was a little harsh.”
“Yea, sorry.” Hank said, “It was some idiot.”
“What did they want?” Amy asked.
“Stupid thing about winning a vacation.” He said.
“Oh man, I hate those!” Amy said, putting her feet back up at her desk.
“What,” he said, “Vacations or telemarketers?”
“Fake Vacations.” she said, “You know, the ones that aren’t real.”
Hank’s brow furrowed as if the girl across the room was unfathomable, then he shrugged and leaned back in his seat.