I flicked my brass cigarette lighter nervously, staring at the flame as it flared up then snapped it shut. Crossing my legs, I looked at the man sitting behind the desk. He was reading a newspaper, his features blank. He sat the paper down and lit a cigarette, inhaling deeply.
He blew out a long puff smoke and gestured toward the paper, cigarette in hand, "You know anything about this?"
"N-no, Tom," I stuttered.
He smiled and took another long drag, "Of course you don't, Marie."
I smoothed my skirt over my knee, my eyes cautiously met his. He stared at me, sizing me up. He brought the cigarette to his lips once more. He inhaled, his eyes lingering at the scoop neck of my dress, then over my stocking-clad calves.
I uncrossed my legs, then recrossed them. "Tom, I .."
He pressed his cigarette into the ash tray and stood walking across the small, dimly lit office to the makeshift bar, "Marie, someone squealed to the papers. The reporter that ran the story is your brother. What am I supposed to think?"
He held up a liquor bottle, "Drink?"
"Sure, Tom."
He poured two fingers of whisky into a glass and handed it to me. He fixed one for himself and leaned his trim hips against the bar. I took a small sip and licked my lips, wincing at the burn in my throat. He downed the drink in one gulp and with an 'ahh' turned to place the empty glass behind him.
I looked up at him. He was imposing in his suit and tie. My eye roamed freely from his slicked back hair to his patent leather shoes. The room seemed too small when he was in it. He was all long limbs and power.
I stared a moment too long. He's noticed I was looking at him and grinned knowingly. I sipped my whiskey again.
"So, how did you find out about the job? Did Eddie tell you?"
Tom was determined to ferret out who had leaked the story about the gambling ring.
"Eddie didn't tell me anything, Tom."
"But he's your husband, surely he confided in you."
"Not once." I assured him.
Tom walked behind his desk again. He shrugged off his suit jacket and hung it over the back of his chair. He removed a cuff link and began rolling up a sleeve slowly.
"Maybe I should have a chat with Eddie."
"No!" I cut him off a little too forcefully.
He grinned widely, his eyes still watching his hands fix his cuffs.
"No?" he said, "Is that what you're saying, Marie?"
I chewed on my lip. "There's no need to involve Eddie, Tom. I don't know who did this, but I don't want Eddie getting hurt."
"I didn't say I would hurt him, Marie," he assured me, but I knew how Tom liked to operate. Eddie would end up in a cast after their chat, or worse.
Tom walked to stand in front of my chair and offered me his hand, "Well then, darling. It seems that you can't help me."
I took his hand and stood. He towered over me, even with my heels on. I stared at his tie, then turned to walk to the door, gathering my bag and wrap.
Tom had turned back toward his desk. I placed my hand on the doorknob and turned.
"Marie?" Tom called.
Damn. I turned around to see his broad back facing me, the white shirt stretched tight across it. Suspenders ran across his back in a y shape. I saw his reflection in the large mirror behind his desk. His gaze was unfocused.
