Lorraine Newton, Downtime #1

Glancing at the clock, 5 after 9, I realize it’s time to shut the books. I’d been pouring over them for the last half hour. Twisting and turning numbers to see if they might make themselves any more appealing than they seem to be, unfortunately numbers tend to be so goddamn stubborn. Winter has never been my favorite season, but with the pass being closed so long, it’s almost unbearable this year. I can feel my gut damn near twinge every time I contemplate how low those numbers have fallen. Not a single horse has gone since October. I let out a huff of breath as I push out my chair. Not a thing to be done, I’ll have to speak to Corwin. Lord knows, I’m not the only one suffering. That pass has got to re-open.

Just as I shut my desk light off, I hear a knock at the door and that same door starts slipping open. I turn the light back on. A slight early-twenties woman with feathery blonde hair and tall leather, buckled boots walks in.

I quirk an eyebrow at her and say, “hello?”

Little Miss Robin Hood replies, “Hello, ma’am. I’ve come… I heard you were in need of a new manager for Winding Creek Ranch.”

My quirked eyebrow turns shrewd as I slowly say, “Yes, that’s so.”

“Well, my name is Judy Dee and I know I’d fit the position just right.”

I gesture towards the chair across from my desk and try to hide my smirk as I pull out my own.