Risk

Lunch Date

Martin could hardly concentrate at work with all that had gone on. The excitement of the previous night was still flowing through his veins, combined with the impatience to try out his new idea. He had witnessed an actual break-in, had followed the burglars in his car, had done some detective work with George and found out things that no one else knew about this case. No closer to figuring it out, but damn! what a thrill ride. For god’s sake, he couldn’t be 38. He felt like a little kid.

For most of the morning since he'd called George, he had pushed papers around his desk, trying to look busy. He looked at the inspection file on 50 Silver Star Boulevard and re-lived it all several times, as well as going over all the pieces of information as if he could eventually manipulate them enough so that they’d fall into place and reveal that which was now hidden. He couldn't make the connection, but he had an idea that might shake a new piece loose.

By the time lunchtime rolled around, he had done essentially no work, but felt immensely pleased with himself nonetheless. He logged off the computer and went into the lunch room. Opening the fridge to gaze in at his paper sack sitting on the top shelf all by itself, it struck him that today was not a bag lunch day. Today was a going out for lunch day, definitely. He closed the fridge, grabbed his jacket from his desk chair, and walked towards the front door, passing Dave on his way out.

“Where you going, Marty?”

Martin stopped and turned around. “Out.”

“Out for lunch? No ham and swiss on rye?”

“Nope,” said Martin, standing up a little straighter and trying to suck in his belly.

“Then, the dream is over. The chain has been broken. Let the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse ride tonight, for this is the day that Martin Porchnik gets his lunch on the outside. Can I have your sandwich?”

“Sure. It’s in the fridge.”

“Thanks. I want to have it bronzed. Do you think bronzed ham will keep?”

The double doors seemed to swing open at his very touch, for surely he was destiny’s child now. When he rounded the corner by the elevators, he saw Holly was already waiting.

She looked up when she heard his footsteps behind her. “Oh. Hi, Marty. Got some errands to do?”

“Nope, I’m going out for lunch,” he said proudly.

“No way. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you go out for lunch. Where you going?”

“I don’t know, yet.”

“Mind if I join you?”

“Not at all.”

At that moment, the elevator door opened, and an oppressive bank of stares instantly silenced them. Martin stood uncomfortably beside Holly for 46 floors while people got on and off. His previous confidence quickly evaporated in the tense social jelly of the elevator dynamic, and he wondered what he had been thinking when he decided to go out for lunch. Now he was going out to eat with Holly. That wasn't the same as eating in with Holly. What did it mean? Was this just a co-worker thing? Just, you know, casual? He wasn’t good at these kinds of situations. His pits started getting all juiced up.

When they finally tumbled off the elevator on the ground floor, he was a ball of insecurity and various neuroses that had inconveniently surfaced. He had to break the silence or die trying.

“I’m new at this. Where’s a good place to eat?” Perfect. Very safe.

“There’s always the food court, or we could go somewhere a little different.”