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Proclivities XIV: Our Survey Said...

Hmm, what to say about Thursday? George and I went to work together, no doubt confirming the gossip that I knew had been circulating in the office. After what we'd been through of late, who cares? Trivial, really. Besides, we had heavier concerns.

Over coffee and breakfast this morning, we agreed to see Chuck. Geroge even called on our way in and Chuck could see us right away, George declined to disclose the purpose, but assured its urgency.

"Best to take care of this first thing, lest we lose our nerve," George commented after he'd disconnected.

"Speak for yourself. I'm going in, with or without you."

"The Oracle has spoken."

"Wiseass."

Coffee in hand, we marched to Chuck's office. George knocked.

"C'mon in, kids," came the jovial invitation. It was only my second time in Chuck's office, the previous being round two of interviews for my job. On the left sat four matching leather chairs surrounding a round coffee table. Chuck's tech savvy oak desk to our right where he sat in one of those expensive ergonomic desk chairs. Outside of a keyboard, monitor, pad and pen, the desktop was barren. In front of the desk were a pair of metal and leather - industrial but comfortable - chairs, where Chuck motioned us to sit.

Once good morning greetings had been exchanged, Chuck grinned, "So is this professional or personal?"

A knock cane at the door.

"Yes?" asked Chuck.

Busybody Betty presently appeared, a scowl leaping to her face. Yup, she'd cornered the market for floral print dresses. Is that her entire wardrobe?

"Just wanted to see if you needed anything," she explained, although I'd wager she knew someone was in with Chuck and she just had to know.

"Nothing," Chuck advised calmly, "we're good, thank you. Please close the door, on your way out."

"Okay," she replied dejectedly and departed.

"Thank you," I sighed in relief.

"So, anyway," Chuck replied, "Professional or personal?"

"Both." George stated.

"Oh?" Chuck expressed his sudden concern.

"Well, this may sound crazy, but..." George began. Between the two of us we related our theory as Chuck listened intently - the absence of questions unsettling. At least I thought so.

"Hmm." he pondered. "Sounds like you two have been reading too many spy novels."

"I'm partial to romance," I quipped attempting to hide my anxiety that Chuck believe we'd let our imaginations

"Yeah," teased Chuck, "I have notice you reading bodice rippers in the break room during lunch."

"Sounds like?" asked George, undaunted.

"Yeah. Even I'm impressed. We weren't sure if you had it in you."

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