Crosshairs

by Harry Hunsicker

  One of the women who had been sitting nearby came back. She picked up a folder that had been left on the table and smiled at me.

  I smiled back, walked over, and said, “Hello.”

  “Hi.” She ran one hand through her blond hair like an oversize brush. No wedding ring. “I see you in here a lot.”

  “Nice place to watch the world go by.” I introduced myself. She did the same, and we shook hands.

  “You work around here?” She tucked the folder under one arm.

  I nodded but didn’t say anything. I had been ready for anything but that.

  “I just got this new job. Been in training all week.” She raised her eyebrows in mock exasperation. “We had a huge test this morning.”

  “Where do you work?” I motioned to a chair. She sat down, and I followed suit.

  “I’ll office out of my apartment.” She crossed her legs and leaned back. “I’m going to be a pharmaceutical rep.”

  “Really?” I nodded and pursed my lips. “I had a friend who used to work for Fortunary.”

  “Oh, the job’s not with them.” She shook her head and mentioned the name of a corporation I had never heard of. “Fortunary’s not hiring right now.”

  I looked at my watch. “Want to grab an early lunch?”

  “Sure.” She smiled shyly.

  We both stood at the same time and headed for the gate in the waist-high patio fence.

  “So what happened to your friend?” She stepped through the opening and onto the sidewalk running alongside McKinney Avenue.

  “He died suddenly, not long ago.” I headed south, walking on the street side. “Had a chemical problem. You know how it goes.”