Chapter 24: Either Party May Reach

On Monday morning, the nameplate was on my desk.

It was brass, with a small scratch on one corner from living in a drawer for two years.

It said "Jo Hazlitt, Director of Finance," and it had been polished.

I touched it with one finger, and then Nate was in the doorway of the glass office with a folder.

"Third offer," he said. "Three pages."

"You said you'd never send it."

"I said I wouldn't send it until you were free to turn it down."

He put it on my desk and went back to the doorway, with his hands in his pockets.

I read it.

I read the salary, the title and the clause about vacation I'd negotiated in my head two years ago and he had given me without being asked.

I read page two, and I read page three.

The last line said: "Total length of agreement: three pages. Short enough to be read in full."

"I have a correction," I said.

"Naturally."

I took the red pen from my cup and crossed out a line in the second paragraph.

Over it I wrote, in small letters: "Either party may reach first. Nobody pays."

I signed my name under it and turned the page around.

Nate came over, read what I had written and read it again.

He took the pen out of my hand and signed under my name.

"You read all three pages," he said.

"I read all of them. There's a typo in the fuel clause."

"There isn't."

"Line nine. 'Recieve.'"

He looked.

"Ah," he said, and his mouth moved. "That one was deliberate. I wanted to know whether you'd find it."

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