38
“You’re not doing it right.”
“I’ve had this equipment a long time. I think I know what goes where.”
“If you’d just listen… ouch! See? Give me that.”
The disembodied voices coming from behind the desk had John raising his eyebrows as he stood in the doorway. He cleared his throat, and two faces appeared over the edge of the desk, between the computer monitors. Molly’s usually neatly coiffed hair was falling out of the clip at the back of her head. She had no lipstick on, and as she stood, she had to readjust her blouse and skirt.
Kyle followed her up, his tie askew, shirttails half out of his trousers. He held something in his hand that he thrust into his pocket. John looked at him briefly and saw that his face was flushed.
“Uh… we were just,” Kyle began.
John held out his hand to
