Sharon stood impatiently at the door. "Come on Grady, I don't want to be late on what could be my first day of work."
Grady had a habit of pausing to sniff every object in the room. It was an asset when he was the top narcotics dog at the FBI, but Sharon found it annoying. She rolled her eyes and scolded Grady, "That's enough. Let's go!" Grady nonchalantly walked through the door.
Sharon wanted to appear confident when she saw Mr. Ashland this morning. She wore a pair of slightly worn, snug-fitting jeans and a crisp light blue shirt. She made sure her hair was meticulously combed, her makeup perfect and her shoes clean.
Reaching her truck, she let Grady in on the passenger side. Sharon didn't go anywhere without her canine partner. His cuddly shiny coat, white teeth and lovable grin provided a great cover for a trained animal capable of killing a grown man with a single bite to the jugular. Grady made Sharon feel safe. She could always count on him to be there for her, with unconditional love and protection. Grady always did his job. He was a far cry from the partners she had in prior FBI assignments, who in the end, always wanted the same thing from the lovely blond agent with the sculptured body. Sharon wanted no more of those "partnerships." She was happy with this new arrangement; she liked to be the one in charge, she realized as she drove to her meeting.
Arriving at the Forsythe Systems office, she put Grady in the back of the truck and ordered him to stay before entering the building.
"Hello, I don't know if you remember me, but I'm here to see Mr. Ashland."
"Yes, I remember you. Mr. Ashland is currently busy, but you can wait over there," said the receptionist pointing to the area across from her desk.
Sharon chose the seat near the wall adjacent to Ashland's office. Just as she was sitting down, she heard raised voices coming from Mr. Ashland's office. She leaned back and turned her head to the side so that her right ear, which was equipped with a barely visible listening device, pressed against the wall.
She tried to remain perfectly still, determined to concentrate on the conversation, but the texture of the wall against her ear triggered memories of a time in kindergarten. During midday nap she would place her ear on the floor to hear what others were saying or doing. Mrs. Hazelton would scold her. Her mother's voice echoed in her head: "From now on, Sharon, pretend that you're sleeping during naptime."
