GUY SEEMED so interested in his work that Ariane decided work was the way to his heart. She began asking him about whatever she saw him doing, whenever she had a chance to leave her own work, or whenever she merely happened to pass him while he was working, and she tagged along behind him when her own work was done. At least it kept her close to him.
“Oil bill?” she asked, looking over his shoulder.
“Mm-hmm.”
“How much oil does the place use in a month?” she asked.
He turned to look at her. “Are you really interested in this stuff?” he asked. “Or are you just making conversation?”
She felt found out, seen through. This was no time for the truth.
She gave him a look that said, “What do you think? Do you suppose I really care how much oil we burn in this place? I’m interested in turning your burner on.”
But what came out of her mouth was, “You know, just because I’m gorgeous doesn’t mean that I haven’t got brains and ambition, too. I think I could go places in the motel business.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yeah. And I think you know I’m not kidding. You know I don’t want to keep waiting on tables forever. I want to advance.”
“Are you willing to work at it?”
“Sure.”
“If you really mean that, I’ll tell you what I’ll do—”
“What’ll you do, you big lug?”
“No kidding. I’ll teach you the business. Teach you everything I know.”
“Really?” said Ariane, raising an eyebrow, coy to the limit.
“Sure. It’ll be better than going through the training course.”
“Oh?” She toyed with a button on his shirt. “How so?”
“You’ll get a lot more useful information,” he said, with the clear-eyed earnestness that sometimes made him seem awfully thick. “If you went to the training institute, they wouldn’t train you fully. They’d take one look at you and give you a couple of weeks’ training as a dining room hostess.”
That sounded just great to Ariane, but she didn’t say so.
“I’ll teach you everything.”
“You’re a swell guy, Guy,” she said. “Maybe that’s why your mother named you Guy.”
“She didn’t,” he said.
“What?”
“Guy isn’t really my name. I just use it as an icebreaker. It’s a little trick. Helps people remember me, too. You could say that I named myself Guy. I’m a tricky guy,” he said, with a wink. He gripped her hand and moved it away from his chest. “Don’t forget that we’re at work,” he said.
“The lessons have begun,” said Ariane.
[to be continued]
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