Michael
There’s a knock at my office door. “Boss, there’s someone here to see you.”
I look up from where I am working my way through the book-keeper’s notes on the monthly accounts for the Centre. It’s a job I detest, but when you run your own business….
“Who is it?”
“That friend of yours, the dark-haired guy; James is it?”
“Tell him I’m busy.”
Sandy looks doubtful but turns and walks out. “Okay, Boss.”
Two minutes later, she’s back. “Um, he says that, um, you’re not busy and he wants to speak with you.”
“Sandy, I said, I’m busy. I don’t want to speak with him.”
She gives me a hard look then turns and exits again.
I’m being unfair, putting her as piggy-in-the-middle….
A minute later, she’s back again. “Michael, he says he’s going nowhere until he’s spoken with you. He says he’s insisting. I asked him to leave, but he just took a chair and wouldn’t move.”
“Sandy, aren’t you my security officer? That’s what I pay you for. Tell him to leave.”