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You'll stay for lunch? Good. Sally will you take care of Angie. Angie anything, anything at all, you have heard or will hear today or will deduce in the future is covered and you don't really want to find out how deep it is covered by the Official Secrets Act."Admiral Higgins gently confirmed this. The Chef appeared"Get your lunch, you horrible lot, no one spoils my food. Hello Admiral, get moving." Hello Wally, I heard you were at "The Green Man." "That's my other job, this is the real one!"Angie joined the Flock plus one and despite the surly faces at the start, got along famously. Angie very professionally questioned her table mates and heard basically the whole story. The only complaint was that they were legally no longer 'Navy'. They were only slightly mollified when Sally pointed out that they were in the same boat as the Avers who were legends.The whole day was spent by the time things had finished. Angie realized that she had heard a lot more than could have been good for. "I love Italian!" was his greeting, looking at the bottle I brought. "You've got great taste: wine, shoes, your hair!"So much for nerves. I felt so calm. Was he just being polite? I just had the same short haircut for years and my shoes were just some nice brown casuals, worn in, scuffed up."They make you look tough. Here, I'll open this up. Come on in, grab a spot on the couch."A b-movie was on. Cheap sci-fi, with lots of nudity. Just my thing, I love this crap. He brought the wine over in a coffee mugs. My hand shook taking it."Don't worry, just relax a little," he said. "Drew, call me Drew. You have a name, sweetie?" Eve," I said. I always wanted to be called that. "Short for Evelyn." It was wonderful to explore my personality a little. Be a little more feminine."Here to tempt me Eve?" he said with a grin. "I hope so. This wine is fantastic."Drew sat down beside me, snuggling close. We drank our wine and watched the cheesy movie roll along. Those actresses.
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" See you, Rich."John watched his senior associate leave the room. It was stuffy, the lights were buzzing, and he was tired. He looked at his watch and sighed. There was no point phoning home now. He was already two hours and twelve years too late by his wife's expectations, and he had no intention of pretending to apologise to her. If she hadn't been fucking her therapist, he might have made an effort, but she was, and he wouldn't.He sat back in his chair, loosening his tie. A layer of day-old sweat was suffocating his skin, and his clothes smelled slightly sour. He needed a good wash, but there wasn't time. He had another meeting, and all the gods that could be called upon could not help him if he was late to this one. He sat in the stale air for a moment, looking out of the window into the growing city lights of the deepening evening. He couldn't remember what fresh air felt like.He caught a view of himself, back-dropped by linen-coloured walls, and sallowed by the fluorescent.

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