"Ev. Yes, sir. Of course. Ev. When can I call you Ev?"

"Anytime," Remo said.

"Tonight? Right now?"

"First Hefferling," Remo said.

"Right." She depressed the switch on the intercom, never removing her eyes from Remo's. He smiled and she felt herself blush.

19

"Yes, Marsha?" a voice crackled over the speaker, Remo leaned nearer her and listened in.

"Uh, Mr. Hefferling, there's a Mr. Everyman here to see you, sir," she told her employer.

"Everyman? What the hell kind of-? Does he have an appointment?"

Remo smiled and nodded his head and as if hers were attached to his, Marsha began nodding too and she lied to her boss and said, "Yes, sir. He does. Something about decimals, I think."

"Decimals? What-? Oh, crap, send him in."

"Yes, sir." She clicked off the intercom and told Remo, "You can go in."

"Thank you. Your name's Marsha?"

"Yes. And I live alone," she said, the words coming out in a rush.

"I'd like to talk to you when I come out of Mr. Hefferling's office. You still be around?"

"Absolutely. I'll be here. I'll wait. I won't go anywhere. Promise. I'll be right here."

"Good. Wait for me."

"I will. I promise."

She buzzed Remo into Harold Hefferling's office. He waved to her before entering.

When the door closed behind him, he looked at the man seated at the desk.

"You Hefferling?" Remo asked.

The man was frowning at his appointment book.

"I knew it," he said triumphantly. "You don't have an appointment, Mister Whatever-your-name-is. How much did you give that bitch to let you in? I'll fire her ass right out of this building, boobs or no boobs."

Remo walked toward the desk and the man behind it stood up. Harold Hefferling was in his forties and kept himself in excellent shape. At six-feet-two and two hundred pounds, most of it muscle, he had even taken some karate lessons since the gas shortage, be-