Free Pulpy and Midge by Jessica Westhead Page A

we’re good.’
    â€˜Oh, ah,’ said Gary, ‘I meant do you need any consulting? I’m a consultant now.’
    â€˜A consultant, eh? Hmm. No, I think we’re fine. Like I said.’ Dan extended his hand. ‘But it was nice to meet you, Gary.’
    Gary’s hand rose to meet Dan’s, and he wiped the other one on his jeans. Then he looked around like he didn’t know where he was. ‘So I guess I should –’
    Dan nodded and headed for the stairs. ‘Yep, back to work.’ He smiled at Pulpy and the receptionist on his way up.
    The receptionist glared at Dan and slowly took her elbows off her desk.
    â€˜Back to work.’ Pulpy watched Gary walk out the door.
    The receptionist swivelled in her chair to look at the clock.
    â€˜Those buses, you know,’ said Pulpy quickly. ‘Those bus drivers on those buses. You think you leave the house with plenty of time to spare and then, boom, the bus sits in the station an extra twenty minutes.’
    â€˜I always give myself at least twenty extra minutes in the morning to get to work,’ she said. ‘On top of the time I think it’ll take. On
top
of that. That way I’m never late.’
    â€˜That sounds like a good system.’ Pulpy moved past her and peered down into the fishbowl, at the rainbow-coloured pebbles on the bottom. He was pretty sure the fish looked up at him.
    â€˜Pulpy!’ Dan called from upstairs. ‘Can I see you a minute?’
    â€˜Coming!’ He smiled at the receptionist. ‘I’d better get up there.’

    She typed something on her keyboard and kept her eyes on her monitor.
    Dan grinned at him at the top. ‘What’s going on down there?’
    Pulpy squeezed the railing. ‘What?’
    â€˜Keeping tabs on unwanted visitors, I like that. How’s the potluck coming along?’
    â€˜I posted the sign-up sheet,’ he said. ‘And I put a string next to it, with a pen tied on. So if people don’t have a pen with them they can still sign up.’
    Dan strolled into his office. ‘Did you tell me this already?’
    â€˜I think I mentioned it last night.’
    â€˜Ho-ho, last night! Your wife’s a real snake charmer, isn’t she?’ He pointed at Pulpy and leaned back in his chair.
    â€˜Ha, yes. You won the game.’
    â€˜We did indeed!’ Dan handed him a slip of paper. ‘I need you to go back downstairs and get this file for me.’
    Pulpy looked at the outline where Al’s couch had rested on the carpet. ‘All right.’
    â€˜Just ask the receptionist to find it for you. And watch out for those ladders – they’ll get you every time!’
    â€˜I will, thanks. Ha.’
    â€˜Come over here and look at this,’ said the receptionist when Pulpy went back downstairs. She pointed at her screen. ‘I’m paying my bills online!’
    Pulpy’s eyes widened. ‘What if you get caught?’
    She pushed her mouse around in a tight circle on its pad. ‘Who’s going to catch me?
He
doesn’t know what goes on around here. I run this show, in case you didn’t notice.’
    â€˜But what if Dan finds out? Maybe he’s monitoring things. He could’ve installed special software and we’d never know. You don’t want to lose your job over this.’

    She laughed, hard. ‘Big deal.’
    Pulpy gave her the slip of paper. ‘Dan sent me to – I need to get this file for him.’
    She frowned at the paper, and then scrunched it up and tossed it into her recycling bin. ‘Get the file yourself,’ she said. ‘You think I’m getting it? I’m not getting it.’
    â€˜I’ll get it,’ he said. ‘Let me get it.’ He headed for the filing cabinet.
    â€˜It’s not in there,’ she said. ‘It’s in that pile.’
    He nodded and moved toward the tower of files on her desk.
    She jerked her