"That's good to hear," I said. "I don't want to disappoint you."
"Never," Clint said, and chuckled.
"What about that time I told you that football was a blood sport with the blood taken out, and the only point to watching it was men in tight pants?" I asked.
"I'm choosing to block that conversation out of my mind," Clint said, sounding almost prim. After a few glasses of wine, Will and I had ended up picking apart the rules of football and why we thought it was a silly sport, while Clint and Brandon got grumpier and grumpier and finally left to 'check the fences' at eleven o'clock at night.
I didn't doze the rest of the ride in the truck. The warm ball of happiness in my belly kept me awake.
Monday morning, the last scraps of that ball of warmth and joy from the weekend vanished.
I stared at Herman, who had again claimed the client seat in my office. This time, though, he'd shut the door.
"I'm not sure about that, sir," I said, quietly.
"It's not a big deal," he insisted.
I hesitated.
"It might not be to you," I said, very carefully, "But I'm not sure that it isn't a big deal to me."
Herman leaned forward, frowning at me. "I thought you were a team player, Naomi. I'd be really disappointed to find out that that weren't the case."
"Well, sir," I said, carefully, "I'm not trying to be inconvenient, but this is not something I am comfortable with."
He rolled his eyes at me and pursed his lips. "I have done the inspection, I don't need to waste your time, mine, or theirs, with a second inspection. All I need you to do is sign this."
"If I sign this, I will be swearing that I have personally witnessed and inspected this, and that's not true," I told him, not enjoying the feeling of being bullied.
"Everyone but you does this all the time," he insisted. "Sarah went out with me, but she forgot to sign the paperwork, and she can't do it on maternity leave."
I nodded, slowly. Sarah had mentioned going out on a few inspections with Herman. She said that his fieldwork was a little slow, but still thorough and accurate. I would trust Sarah.
Did I trust Herman?
The form he’d asked me to put the wrong date on had left a bad taste in my mouth. If it weren’t for that, I’d maybe feel a little differently, but I wasn’t sure about his integrity any more.
I tried not to sigh. I didn't want to give him any more ammunition to dislike me, and even if he rolled his eyes dismissively, I didn't want to appear rude in return.
With a little pang, I thought about Clint. He would have no doubts about this - he would tell Herman Banks to shove it and walk out the door.
Maybe I wasn't as good a person as my boyfriend - boyfriend! - but I knew I didn't want to disappoint Clint or lose my job.
Even with all of my fear, sitting across from my boss and trying to say no to him, thinking of Clint as my boyfriend gave me a little thrill.
I was so gone.
I realized that Herman was sitting there, eyebrows raised, tapping his fingers expectantly against the arm of the chair.
“Would you please leave them on my desk, sir?” I asked.
I wasn’t sure what to do, still. Clint said that no job was worth your honor, but I didn’t know if I agreed. I had worked for years to get this far as a young woman in a lousy economy, and I didn’t want to throw it all away.
Maybe Herman was right, maybe everyone did this.
I needed more time.
Herman grinned that politician’s grin at me again. He stood up and placed the folder carefully on my desk.