went hand in hand. It was even worse knowing that she was
pissed at the fact that she knew it was really not a very pretty
thing to be doing. And she cared. Frick anyway.
“I’ll second that,” Dallas said softly. She was so calm and
rational that it was slightly maddening.
“I’ll third it.”
“You firsted it so…”
“I should get two votes.”
“Alright. Then it’s decided. He sucks.”
“He was more interested in checking me out than in doing
any paperwork.”
“That’s because…” Dallas trailed off. Or cut herself off.
“Never mind. I could kick his butt if you wanted me to.”
“Ha! I’d like to see that. You’d get thrown in jail. And
you’d never get that money.”
“You’d like that though. You’d think it was the perfect
justice.”
Quinn felt the anger seeping out of her. She felt like a
deflated balloon. The gross kind. The kind that gets all
slobbered on and wrinkly after a few times of being blown up
and deflated. She kind of felt like she’d done the whole wild
ride around the room, bouncing this way and that before the
deflating, wrinkling bit happened.
“Should we go back in there?” Dallas asked. She wasn’t
pressing or pressuring. She was leaving it up to Quinn.
“I- I guess so.”
“Maybe I should call. Maybe Jim has other appointments.”
“Good idea.”
Dallas got out her phone. She made a face, said yes a ton
of times, finished with “that’ll work,” and hung up.