Craven Gets Flashed VII

“Why do you mean she’s attempting a coup?”

“You heard me, Mr. Danger,” said Jenny. “I heard it with my own ears. She just promoted herself from assistant to full-fledged partner, and from what I can see there’s no stopping her from taking over the whole shebang! Which means pretty soon you’ll be the one taking the orders. Then comes the last step.”

“The last step?”

“Yeah. You’re out on your keister and Betty’ll get what she’s wanted all along: a smart and handsome six-footer with a smile that can open doors at the 21 club. And he'll have an arm that can shoot straight, take dictation, and fetching the morning paper. Oh, she’s a devil-woman for sure.”

“Ah, Jenny, you’re crazy. I fetch the paper for Betty all the time. And she don’t even have to ask me.”

“You know who also fetches the paper?”

“Who?”

“The pet dog, Mr. Danger. The pet dog does that. You need my help more than ever.  You’re a personal hero of mine, so it’s a good thing I decided to take you into my confidence, otherwise you’d still be in the dark, and by the end of this very day you’d be mopping up your own bitter tears from the office floor.”

“Well, the floor usually needs mopping, anyway, Jenny. I’m always forgetting to wipe my feet on the mat in the morning. Betty won’t let me into the office unless I’ve wiped my feet first. But it’s nothing I ever cry over.”

"See! That’s how it starts. She’s taking baby steps. First it’s Wipe your feet, Mr. Danger, then the next thing you know you’re being kicked down the stairs by a ravishing redhead in steel-toed gestapo boots. We need to get moving!”

“Jenny, you’re a kid. And like any kid you’re overreacting and hysterical when it comes to your own view of the world. Exactly what did you two talk about while she was over at your place?”

“Except for a couple of How do you do’s, we didn’t talk about anything. She and my aunt Mildred did all the talking, and at his very minute that future lady fuhrer of yours is out having chilled martinis and corrupting my dear sweet Aunt Mildred over at Delaney’s.”

“I learned a long time ago not to disturb Betty when she’s in a martini frame of mind. It saves me a lot of headaches.”

“I don’t want to disturb her, either. What I’m getting at is us partnering up. We don’t even need an office. I inherited my dad’s old jalopy. Why pay rent? And when it gets dark I can develop film in the trunk. As far as sleeping arrangements go I hear you sleep pretty good sitting up, and I’m short enough to stretch out in the back seat. We can freshen up and have catsup soup at the Coffee Pot on the Corner. All you need to do is grab a toothbrush and a couple of your open-case files. Then we’re out of here. What do you think?”

“Catsup soup? Brush my teeth in a toilet that the cockroaches have called unfit for vermin habitation? I think you’re nuts, Jenny?”

“Aw, c’mon, Mr. Danger. Where’s your spunk, or has she taken that away from you too? If she takes anything else, all that’s left of you is a squeaky pair of oxfords, a crumpled suit, and a dark brown fedora. All of which gets kicked to the curb for the locals to pick through. You? You will vanish into the thin air from whence you came.”

“I still say you’re nuts. Besides, I seize up like a park statue if I’m out in the cold too long. Does this jalopy of yours have heat?"

"You'll feel like you're on a beach in Miami, Mr. Danger."

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