Page 12 of Signed, I'm Yours!
I’m about to fall asleep when John takes me to the basement and shows me to an office that’s creepy…or something—I’m not paying attention—and I’ve just about had it. I’m hungry, and I want him to shut up.
But then I take a good look at the office—square box, barely ten by ten, yet somehow housing two desks, two computer monitors from the eighteenth century, boxes everywhere, and filing cabinets so full the drawers won’t shut. One of the two computers is unlocked, the image of a beaver or something as a screensaver.
Bingo.
“Say, John, I’m famished. Is there any way you can get me something to eat?” I turn to John and push him out the door.
“Of course, yes, right away. We can go up to the canteen?—”
I take a deep breath, bunch up my shoulders, and purse my lips.
“But I’m so tired. From all the inspecting, you know. Can’t you get it for me? I’ll wait for you right here.”
John looks from me to the room, pushing his mouth from side to side, and I tilt my head to the side, blinking slowly and seductively like a cat, and he nods.
“You’re a doll. Thank you. Get me something…vegan. And gluten-free. Oh, also sugar-free and carb-free. Thanks.” I push him farther into the hallway and wave at him as he goes in search of my lunch.
That should keep him occupied.
I duck back into the office, slam the door shut, and rush to grab the mouse before the computer goes into screensaver mode and locks me out.
I scan the screen for clues, but the software is so slow it’s like it’s operating Windows 98 or something.
Eventually, I manage to find a database in one of the minimized windows, and I start typing my mom’s name when the door opens and a bear of a man walks into the room.
“Who are you?” he asks with a voice as sweet as molasses.
CHAPTER 4
JACK
At first, I think I’m hallucinating, but as the man pushes my chair back and stands, I realize I’m not.
There really is an Asian man in my office with longish bleach-silver hair that frames his soft features, dressed in a big pink fur coat that is surely too hot to wear inside, painted-on skinny pants, and…pink Hello Kitty socks.
Wait, why isn’t he wearing any shoes?
“I’m an inspector, and I’m here to inspect your offices,” he declares with a pout that’s too pink to be natural, and I smirk.
“We don’t really have inspectors,” I reply, and honestly, I can’t wait to see how this one goes. “But if you say so.”
“You believe me?”
“Why? Were you lying?”
He looks taken aback, as if he’s realized his mistake, then starts shaking his head uncontrollably. “No, of course not. I am an inspector inspecting inspection…stuff.”
He’s fun. For an intruder.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t catch that. Did you say you’re here to inspect?”
“Yes!” he says with a finger in the air before he realizes I’m just messing with him.
As he puts his hand down, I notice his nails are longer than usual and painted purple.
“I’ve never seen you before. Do you want to tell me who you are?”
Right.Focus, Jack. Someone’s invaded your office. You need to find out what’s happening, not entertain them.
