Not a single word was spontaneous but not a single word seemed false. That was one of the things that she loved about him. He had been rehearsed for nearly a year, daily, always obliging, never objecting, so that when he was ushered into the boss’s office to amplify the presentation she had just given, to second her argument that she should be given not only a promotion but a raise, his words, clearly articulated, simply delivered, devoid of histrionic tone or gesture, almost granite in their authority, landed with maximum impact. The boss just stared at first. Slowly he regained enough control to make a slow and almost stunned series of nods. Afterwards, knowing they had made the best case possible, and that he had vouched for her out of a sense of deep devotion, she walked with him to the elevator. She pressed the button because he couldn’t reach. What a dog.
©2020 Ben Greenman/Stupid Ideas
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