Natalie was manning the phones. Picking up a call, she suddenly sat bolt upright in her chair as if someone had, with great malice, stuck a spear through the bottom of her seat straight up her spine. This caused me to look at her. Her face had turned white. In an impossibly solicitous voice she said, “Hold on, I’ll transfer you to Ross Fowler.” She transferred the call and put the receiver back down with exquisite reverence. Religious rite completed, she sprung up and lunged at Colleen, the person nearest her, grabbing her by both arms and screeching, “That was Brent Hammersmith on the phone! Brent Hammersmith! Hammersmith . . . Hammersmith . . .” She rocked her back and forth in her fervor, almost knocking off Colleen’s glasses.
“Like, Brent Hammersmith the actor?”
“No, Brent Hammersmith the plumber. Yes! Yes!”
Colleen was suitably impressed, putting her hands to her…
View original post 1,279 more words