'Where are you going?'

'I'm going to talk to Mr Dooher.' She hesitated. 'To Mark.'

This got him up, hand outstretched, nearly knocking his chair over behind him. 'Whoa, whoa, wait a minute, Christina. Wait a minute!'

She paused, her hand on the doorknob. 'All right, one minute. What for?'

He crossed around his desk, stopping an arm's length from her. 'Look…' A long breath, getting his own control back. 'Look, I'm sorry. Don't go to Mr Dooher, not like this.'

'Like what? Like all mad at you? Like I'll get you in trouble? I promise, I won't mention you at all.'

'Christina…'

'I don't understand why you don't want me to work here, Joe. I thought you'd be happy. We could be together, see each other during the day, go out to lunch… I thought it would be fun.'

He moved toward her, held her arms gently. 'I know,' he said. 'I know. It would.'

'So what's the problem?'

'It just surprised me, that's all. I thought we'd decided something else, and then just having this sprung on me…'

'This wasn't sprung, Joe. I didn't feel like I needed to ask your permission. I came down and here I am now, telling you. I'm not hiding anything.'

'All right,' he said. 'All right, I'm sorry. I don't want to fight about this.'

'I don't either.'

'Okay, then.' He stepped back. 'Did you bring your resume with you? A cover letter?'

She nodded, crossed to his desk, put her briefcase on it and snapped it open. Handing him the envelope, she asked him where it went now.

There was a look in his eyes that she didn't like very much. Then a half-smile to back it up. He motioned with his head – follow me. On the floor next to one of the bookcases across the room was a cardboard box that had originally held a case of wine.

As the associate in charge of the summer clerk program, Avery received all the hopefuls' resumes, which a four-person committee reviewed once every two weeks. In the meanwhile, Avery 'filed' the resumes in the cardboard box, which currently was two or three inches deep in them.