Gloss by Marilyn Kaye

Author:Marilyn Kaye [Kaye, Marilyn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781447223979
Publisher: Macmillan Children’s Books
Published: 2013-06-06T04:00:00+00:00

From her desk, Sherry could see into Mr Simpson’s office, which meant that Mr Simpson could see her too. But the door was closed, and there was no glass window through which he could peer out into the bullpen. So for the time being she was safe.

Still glancing furtively at the office, she rolled a sheet of plain white paper into the typewriter and then opened a folder to reveal Mike’s short story.

‘THE WHITE HORSE’, she typed. And under it, ‘by Michael Dillon’.

‘What are you doing?’

She practically jumped out of her seat.

Allison stepped back in alarm. ‘Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.’

Sherry lowered her voice to a barely audible whisper. ‘I’m typing up a short story that Mike wrote. And I don’t want Mr Simpson to know.’

‘Why? Is it pornographic or something?’

‘No! It’s a beautiful story, about a teenage boy on a horse ranch out west. There’s this horse that can’t be tamed, and he’s trying to get his father to set it free. It’s all very symbolic.’

‘Then why are you so nervous about Simpson finding out what you’re doing?’

‘Because it’s not Gloss work. I should be doing this on my own time, back in my room. I just haven’t had time this week.’ She sighed. ‘I should never have learned how to play bridge. There’s always a game going on at the Cavendish.’

Allison shook her head in disgust. ‘I can’t believe that’s how you’re spending your New York evenings. OK, I know Pamela hasn’t been around much, now that she’s hooked up with Mr Parker.’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘It’s weird, calling him “Mister” when he’s going out with our friend.’

What felt even weirder to Sherry was the fact that a friend was dating a married man. Helen Gurley Brown might call it acceptable, but Sherry had her doubts.

‘And I know your roommate just sits in front of the lounge TV every night,’ Allison continued, ‘but you could always come down to the Village with me.’

Sherry smiled and nodded, but inwardly she knew this was not an option. She’d hit the Village with Allison one evening, and that had been enough for her. It was an interesting scene, but she’d found Allison’s folk singer friend to be so arrogant, with all his ponderous declarations about life. Not to mention the fact that he clearly looked down on Sherry, teasing her about her Southern background and ladylike manners. For the life of her, she couldn’t understand what Allison saw in the guy.

‘And what about Mike?’ Allison asked. ‘I see you two taking coffee breaks together practically every day.’

‘He spends his evenings writing,’ Sherry told her.

‘Every evening?’ Allison asked sceptically. ‘Even weekends?’

Sherry nodded, but she could understand Allison’s disbelief. There’d been that one evening, when they went to the author’s reading at the uptown community centre, but nothing since then.

One of Allison’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Then how come you’re knocking yourself out typing up his story?’

‘Because I said I would,’ Sherry replied lamely. Once again she glanced nervously in the direction of Mr Simpson’s office.

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