Sea Glass_ A Novel - Anita Shreve [33]
“Hello there,” he says to the secretary who once brought him an iced coffee and to whom he has sold three of his machines. “How’s the Number Eight?”
“It’s just fine,” Miss Alexander says. The secretary has on a green sleeveless dress today that shows the chicken wattles under her arms.
“And the Copiograph machine?”
“It’s made my job a lot easier.”
“Well, that’s what I like to hear. Say, that’s a pretty dress you have on there.”
“Oh. Well,” she says, blushing. “Thank you.”
“I think I’ve got an appointment with Mr. Rowley,” Sexton says, putting his face close to hers. Miss Alexander, flustered, consults her book. Needlessly, Sexton thinks. How many appointments can Rowley possibly have on a Friday afternoon before Labor Day weekend?
“He’ll see you now,” she says.
“Thank you very kindly,” Sexton says, winking.
As he opens the door to Rowley’s office, Sexton catches the briefest movement on the desk, a neat stack of papers quickly centered, a pen raised. But Sexton can see that the stack is too neat, the cap still on the pen.
“Mr. Beecher,” Rowley says, looking up and then standing, pretending to be caught in the middle of his paperwork. He holds out his hand.
“Mr. Rowley,” Sexton says.
“It’s a pleasure to see you again. Take a seat, take a seat. How have you been?”
Sexton listens for — hopes for — a slight slurring of words. “Just fine, Mr. Rowley. And yourself?”
“Excellent, Mr. Beecher. Excellent. Apart from this infernal heat, that is.”
And there it is. Thisinfernal.
“This room isn’t too bad, though,” Sexton says.
“No, it’s not,” Rowley says, moving the stack of papers to one side of his desk. “So what brings you out this way? Hey, by the way, my girl says that accounting-writing machine you sold us is just the ticket.”
“Glad to hear it,” Sexton says, reflecting that the girl is fortyfive if she’s a day. “No trouble with it, I trust?”
“Not a hint of trouble far as I can tell. Of course it’s my girl who uses it. That’s her department, don’t you know.”
And doesn’t Sexton just know. If it weren’t for the girls in the outside offices, Sexton would be out of a job.
“So what can I do for you?” Rowley asks.
Sexton sits forward. “Well, actually, I’ve come here on a —”
“Heeeey,” Rowley says, pointing a finger at Sexton. “Those Cubs, huh?”
Sexton nods and points a finger back. “Really something.”
“Charlie Root?” Rowley asks.
“The best,” Sexton says. “And Rogers Hornsby?”
“Fantastic. Say, you headed out for the weekend?”
“As a matter of fact, yes I am,” Sexton says. “Headed for the in-laws in Taft.”
“Where’s that?”
“A bit north of here. Near Conway.”
“Oh, yes,” Rowley says. “My dad used to keep a boat up there. This your last appointment?”
Thiz your las appointment?
“Yes,” Sexton lies.
“Well, here, let’s start the weekend off right, then. You care for a shot of my best whiskey?”
Sexton smiles and relaxes his shoulders. He sits back in the chair. “Thank you very kindly, Mr. Rowley. I surely would,” he says. Sexton watches the now-familiar ritual with the shot glasses and the bottle that has been squirreled away in a drawer. “My wife and I just bought a house over to Ely,” he says after his first good pull. The drink tastes like wood smoke going down. It’ll relax him for the next appointment, though he will have to remember to have a piece of gum on the way over to Franklin.
“Didn’t know that,” Rowley says. “Congratulations. Business must be good,” he adds. Rowley has the face of a man who hardly ever goes outside. He’s thin through the chest, Sexton sees, soft through the belly.
“Yes, it is, Mr. Rowley. I’m selling a lot of business machines.”
“Call me Ken.”
“Well, thank you, Ken. Actually, I’m here on a personal matter. What I wanted to talk to you about is the house. The one my wife and I just purchased. It needs a new roof and we have to upgrade all the plumbing. I’d like to get this taken care of as soon as possible.”
“The missus wants her plumbing,” Rowley says with a slight leer.
“She does indeed, Mr. Rowley. Ken. I’ve got a contractor lined up who’ll start on