Chapter 6: Life of Mystery Beyond the Smock

Several weeks after their big date, George approached his mother for help.

“Mom, I’m quitting at the Peppy Pig. I am looking for a bookkeeping job, and I need an interview suit. Also, I have a laser printer now, so I want your help making up a résumé and cover letters.”

“Sure, son. Did you get that bookkeeping certificate?” “Yeah, the test is on the web now, so I could read at my own pace. Once I get a job, I will need more office clothes too.”

Emmy, somberly: “So shall it be laser printed, so shall it be done.”

Many weeks later, George was spending his work days in a cubicle updating ledgers and verifying journals. His salary was modest, yet stratospheric compared to his wages at the store. He had put away some cash, and increased his rent payments to his parents. He wasn’t yet ready to set up his own household. But he had completed probation and now received insurance and paid time off (“PTO”).

One day, he was enjoying a routine Friday lunch at the corner café. Suddenly a young woman blazed in and took a seat at his table. “Mnph?” sputtered George, mouth full of sandwich. She spoke urgently: “Please give me a minute, I’m being followed by a bad guy.” She unfolded a tall menu in front of her face.

A burly man darted in, surveyed the room, and rushed back out. “I think he left. I’m George, George Durand; what’s your name?” “Annette Carter. That was Jerry, that creep has hurt me for the last time!”

“Would you join me? Anything you want on that menu? It’s my treat.” A nearby server pulled out her pad. “Um, thanks, I’ll have a chicken salad sandwich on wheat toast, and coffee with cream and sugar.”

Just as Annette turned back towards the table, a hairy arm seized her by the elbow. An angry voice: “Come on, bitch, we’re leaving!” Annette shrieked and twisted in his grasp. Reacting quickly, George dumped a pitcher of ice-water on Jerry’s angry face.

As intended, the wet surprise allowed Annette to free herself and scurry out-of-reach.

The raging bully charged George, who swerved aside. Grabbing a linen napkin, he dangled it casually, and spoke mildly “¡Toro, toro!” George stepped left and right until the table was at his elbow. Another gesture with the napkin and Jerry charged again. A nimble side-step and Jerry’s angry face planted against a partition wall. The fracas ended as building security arrived to restrain him outside until the police could arrive.

“So, Annette, are you injured?” “I am, but also entertained. And hungry! Let me eat that sandwich and you can retell your exploits on behalf of the fairer sex. Judging by your garments, you work in a nearby office, yes? After your training at the Plaza del Toros? Not to mention your experience as a male model.”

She continued: “It happens I am needing a champion of chivalry at present. Having no alternative, I wonder if you can put me up for the night? Would your wife, or girlfriend, object?” “No, Annette, I am unattached at present. My parents might complain. You see, my life as an international man of mystery means I must maintain my covert identity as a timid failure-to-launch bookkeeper.”

“Here’s my business card. I’m going to pass you $200 folded inside this napkin. Drop the cash into your purse. The Marriott is two blocks in that direction. Book a room under the name ‘Annie Toro.’ I’ll meet you there at six o’clock, and we will have room service. I can see the uncertainty in your eyes. But don’t worry. You can verify my employment using the business card. Or you can call my Mom at my home number, it’s written on the back. OK?”

Annette was looking grateful. “Thank you, George.”

“Oh, just one more thing. Before the night is over, with your permission, I would really like to kiss you.”