was thin; his delivery weak at best. "Let's see, I must know a
couple of — Okay, here's one. Ready? How can you tell you're talking to
an extroverted accountant?"
Scott drummed
his fingers on the bar, leaving Meg to ask, "How?"
"They'll
be staring at your shoes instead of their own."
Scott's
reaction was a half chuckle, half snort; Meg, on the other hand, rewarded Nick
with a hearty laugh. "That's cute," she said. "I like that
one."
Nick smiled. "Unlike
you," he said, pointing at Scott, "this woman appreciates real humor.
Now, on a high note, I'll excuse myself for a moment. Carolyn said she might
call … better check my messages."
"Carolyn Reed ?"
Meg guessed, watching Nick's retreating figure.
"Yep,"
Scott confirmed. "You're looking at her protégé." Scott took a long
chug from his beer bottle. "You want a prediction. Write it down. That
man" — he gestured in the direction Nick had disappeared — "is
going to take Carolyn's job someday."
"Might you
be a bit biased?"
Scott nodded
emphatically. "Hell, yes, I'm biased. Nick and I started at the GAO the
same year … the same week. We shared an office for two years. He doesn't
have any siblings; I don't either. We've sort of adopted each other. But forget
all that … I stand by my prediction. He's that good at what he does."
"You make
him sound like Superman."
Scott paused
for a moment, then shook his head. "Hey, we all have problems,
right?"
Meg raised her
eyes; in response Scott leaned into her, lowered his voice. "C'mon. You
can see it. The guy's got to get away from work more. He's been living in a
land of spreadsheets, balance sheets, and income statements for so long that if
you make him smell the air, kick the tires — he's a lost soul. That's the
one thing — the only thing — I've got over him. I can find my way
through most accounting thickets, but I know the whole thing's a lot of
bullshit make-believe. You know what I mean?"
Meg nodded
uncertainly, and Scott continued.
"He almost
broke out of his shell before Carolyn got her hooks into him." Scott
shrugged. "The job became everything for him. Not that it was all for the
worst — look where he is now. Heck, maybe I'm the one who needs the
counseling."
"You both
seem like pretty stable individuals to me."
Scott sat up
straight and frowned. "I've been called a lot of things, but stable… I'm
not sure I like that."
"Take it
as a compliment. I'm impressed, with both of you. You work well together."
Meg paused. "Though I meant to ask you … and please tell me if it's
none of my business … you and Nick were going at each other the other day.
Something about field work. You said you were on probation?"
"Yeah. Nick
thinks I may have cut a few corners during an investigation."
"What
corners?"
Scott shook his
head. "I hate specifics. Hate them. But I'll tell you this: my dad was a
cop, my grandfather was a cop, back in the day when Boston cops didn't follow
every nicety. It could be that family traditions die hard."
"Doesn't
sound so good, Scott."
"Hence,
the probation. I admit, I'm not a Boy Scout. Nick, on the other hand — "
Scott cleared his throat. "Look at me. About to start on Nick again. I
must be more loaded than I thought. What I really want to do is learn more
about you. Now tell me, how — "
Meg caught
Nick's approaching figure from the corner of her eye. She called out him,
interrupting Scott. "Any messages?"
Nick nodded
glumly as he neared the bar. "Not going to worry about them tonight."
He indicated Scott with his thumb. "Sorry for abandoning you to this guy. Lousy
thing to do."
Scott dropped
from his bar stool, hands in the air. "Hey, I know when I'm not
appreciated. She's all yours. My turn to make a quick detour … have to
piss so bad my back teeth are starting to float."
"Nice,
Scott," Nick called after Scott's retreating figure. "Real
nice."
Meg turned to
her beer and took a sip. "You two really start with the GAO at the same
time?"
"Uh-huh. Eleven
years ago.
couple of — Okay, here's one. Ready? How can you tell you're talking to
an extroverted accountant?"
Scott drummed
his fingers on the bar, leaving Meg to ask, "How?"
"They'll
be staring at your shoes instead of their own."
Scott's
reaction was a half chuckle, half snort; Meg, on the other hand, rewarded Nick
with a hearty laugh. "That's cute," she said. "I like that
one."
Nick smiled. "Unlike
you," he said, pointing at Scott, "this woman appreciates real humor.
Now, on a high note, I'll excuse myself for a moment. Carolyn said she might
call … better check my messages."
"Carolyn Reed ?"
Meg guessed, watching Nick's retreating figure.
"Yep,"
Scott confirmed. "You're looking at her protégé." Scott took a long
chug from his beer bottle. "You want a prediction. Write it down. That
man" — he gestured in the direction Nick had disappeared — "is
going to take Carolyn's job someday."
"Might you
be a bit biased?"
Scott nodded
emphatically. "Hell, yes, I'm biased. Nick and I started at the GAO the
same year … the same week. We shared an office for two years. He doesn't
have any siblings; I don't either. We've sort of adopted each other. But forget
all that … I stand by my prediction. He's that good at what he does."
"You make
him sound like Superman."
Scott paused
for a moment, then shook his head. "Hey, we all have problems,
right?"
Meg raised her
eyes; in response Scott leaned into her, lowered his voice. "C'mon. You
can see it. The guy's got to get away from work more. He's been living in a
land of spreadsheets, balance sheets, and income statements for so long that if
you make him smell the air, kick the tires — he's a lost soul. That's the
one thing — the only thing — I've got over him. I can find my way
through most accounting thickets, but I know the whole thing's a lot of
bullshit make-believe. You know what I mean?"
Meg nodded
uncertainly, and Scott continued.
"He almost
broke out of his shell before Carolyn got her hooks into him." Scott
shrugged. "The job became everything for him. Not that it was all for the
worst — look where he is now. Heck, maybe I'm the one who needs the
counseling."
"You both
seem like pretty stable individuals to me."
Scott sat up
straight and frowned. "I've been called a lot of things, but stable… I'm
not sure I like that."
"Take it
as a compliment. I'm impressed, with both of you. You work well together."
Meg paused. "Though I meant to ask you … and please tell me if it's
none of my business … you and Nick were going at each other the other day.
Something about field work. You said you were on probation?"
"Yeah. Nick
thinks I may have cut a few corners during an investigation."
"What
corners?"
Scott shook his
head. "I hate specifics. Hate them. But I'll tell you this: my dad was a
cop, my grandfather was a cop, back in the day when Boston cops didn't follow
every nicety. It could be that family traditions die hard."
"Doesn't
sound so good, Scott."
"Hence,
the probation. I admit, I'm not a Boy Scout. Nick, on the other hand — "
Scott cleared his throat. "Look at me. About to start on Nick again. I
must be more loaded than I thought. What I really want to do is learn more
about you. Now tell me, how — "
Meg caught
Nick's approaching figure from the corner of her eye. She called out him,
interrupting Scott. "Any messages?"
Nick nodded
glumly as he neared the bar. "Not going to worry about them tonight."
He indicated Scott with his thumb. "Sorry for abandoning you to this guy. Lousy
thing to do."
Scott dropped
from his bar stool, hands in the air. "Hey, I know when I'm not
appreciated. She's all yours. My turn to make a quick detour … have to
piss so bad my back teeth are starting to float."
"Nice,
Scott," Nick called after Scott's retreating figure. "Real
nice."
Meg turned to
her beer and took a sip. "You two really start with the GAO at the same
time?"
"Uh-huh. Eleven
years ago.
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