Ashbury was looking exclusively at her now.
“I suppose I can trust your discretion?” Ashbury asked.
Bertha Cool seemed to have lost interest in me. “Hell, yes. Absolutely! Anything you say to me stops right there... Don’t mind my cussing.”
“Advisable not to light on head please,” Hashita said. “Honorable pupil must learn to twist in air, so to come down on feet.”
Bertha Cool flung over her shoulder, without even looking at me, “Get your clothes on, Donald. We’ve got a job.”
Chapter two
I sat in the outer office, waiting. I could hear the low hum of voices coming from Bertha Cool’s private office. Bertha never liked to have me listen in while financial arrangements were being made. She paid me a monthly guarantee, which she kept as low as possible, and sold my services for as much as she could get.
After about twenty minutes she called me in. I knew from the expression on her face the financial arrangements had gone to suit her.
Ashbury was sitting in the client’s chair, touching it at only two points — the base of his neck and his hip pockets. That posture caved his chest in and pushed his neck forward. Looking at him, I knew where his watermelon stomach came from.
Bertha oozed sweetness and good will. “Sit down, Donald.”