Part 6 (2/2)
Eliot looked at it.
”This is for four hundred dollars,” he said.
”Lemme ask you something,” said the Client From h.e.l.l. ”Whose idea was this?” He waved his fat arm at the beer ad.
”Well,” said Eliot, ”we're talking about a certain investment of time that.,.”
”WHO THOUGHT UP THE IDEA OF t.i.tS?” said the Client From h.e.l.l. In the hall outside, a door slammed; Eliot knew this was the certified public accountant exiting his office to search for the building manager.
”You did,” said Eliot.
”Do you see a fish in this picture?” asked the Client From h.e.l.l.
”No,” said Eliot.
”The way I see it,” said the Client From h.e.l.l, ”I came up with the concept. This is MY concept.”
Eliot looked at the check, then at the grotesque beer ad, then at the check again. He looked at the check for several seconds. When he finally spoke, he did not lookup.
”OK,” he said.
The Client From h.e.l.l smirked fatly and turned back to the ad.
't.i.ts like that,” he said, shaking his head. ”On a spic.” Then, without saying good-bye or closing the door, he walked out.
Eliot was still looking at the check.
”I'm a wh.o.r.e,” he announced, to his office.
The phone rang, and Eliot considered not answering it, because it was probably the building manager calling to tell him that (a) he was disturbing other tenants, and (b) he was two months behind on his rent. But it also might be Matt. So he picked up the receiver.
”Eliot Arnold,” he said, warily.
”Hi,” said a woman's voice, and Eliot's heart jumped. ”This is Anna Herk. The woman who beat up your son.”
”Hi!” said Eliot, thinking about her eyes.
”How is Matt?” asked Anna. ”Is he OK?”
”Oh, he's fine,” said Eliot. ”He's a teenager.”
”I'm sorry,” said Anna.
”That's OK,” said Eliot. ”He'll grow out of it, if n.o.body shoots him.”
”No,” said Anna, laughing, ”I mean, I'm sorry about jumping on him. And I'm really sorry about dumping on you last night. I had no business doing that.”
”You did the right thing,” said Eliot. ”He had no business being there.”
”Well, anyway,” said Anna, ”the reason I called, besides to say I'm sorry again, is, did you lose some reading gla.s.ses?”
”As a matter of fact,” he said, ”I did.”
”Horn-rims?” she asked.
”Yup.”
”Made in Taiwan?”
”Four ninety-nine at Eckerd Drag.”
”Well,” Anna said, ”I haven't seen them.”
Eliot laughed.
”No, really,” she said, ”I found them in the family room, and I wanted to return them to you.”
”You don't have to do that,” said Eliot. ”I mean they're just cheap ... ”
”Really,” she said, ”I want to.”
Whoa.
”OK,” Eliot said.
”You're in the Grove, right?” she said.
”Yes.”
”Well, I'm running some errands around there this afternoon, and I thought maybe I could stop by.”
Eliot looked around his small, grimy, unsuccessful-looking office, the most impressive aspect of which was the gazomba woman.
”Well,” he said, ”how about, I mean, if you haven't eaten, we could, I mean, we could maybe get something?”
”Are you asking me to lunch?”
”I don't mean to, I mean, if you'd rather ... ”
”Lunch sounds great.”
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