‘Maybe you can, but I’m damn sure I can’t. Besides, what would we do with Paula?’
Kerman took a long drink from his glass, sighed, and reached for a cigarette.
‘She’s your funeral. That girl is a menace. All she thinks about is money and work. You might tell her not to keep picking on me. To hear her talk, you’d think I don’t earn my keep.’
‘Do you?’ I said, shutting my eyes. ‘Do any of us? Anyway, a vacation is out, Jack. We’re getting on top and we’ve got to stay on top. If we shut the office, we’d be forgotten in a week. You can’t stand still in a job like this.’
Kerman grunted,
‘Maybe you’re right. I’ve a redhead who’s costing me a pile of dough. I don’t know what’s the matter with her. She thinks I’m made of money. Mind you, she’s not a bad little thing. She’s willing, and that’s what I like about a girl. The trouble with her is…’
The telephone bell began to ring.
Kerman raised his head and scowled at the telephone.
‘Don’t answer it,’ he advised. ‘It might be a client,’
‘Not at ten past ten,’ I said, hoisting myself out of the chair. It’s probably my past catching me up.’