I looked back at the platinum blonde and tried my grin on her.
She opened her eyes very wide, stared emptily at me and then looked away.
I went out, my grin hanging in space, like an unwanted baby on a doorstep.
II
Jack Kerman was demonstrating to Trixy, my switchboard girl, how Gregory Peck kisses his leading ladies when I tramped in. They came apart a little slower than a flash of lightning, but not much. Trixy whipped to her seat and began to pull out plugs and push in plugs with an unconvincing show of efficiency.
Kerman gave me a sad smirk, shook his head sorrowfully, and followed me into the inner room.
“Do you have to do that?” I asked, going over to my desk and yanking open a drawer.
“Isn’t she a mite young?”
Kerman sneered.
“Not by the way she was acting,” he said.