Away from his family, relaxing after making a bullet-proof presentation, Jon Wonderbaum sits at a bar in Manhattan. He’s seen it many times on the screen, moments like this. A salesman away from the routine of home. Making the most of his freedom.
1. He has a scotch on the rocks (always that).
2. He loosens his tie.
3. He scans.
In the US for the first time, Jon Wonderbaum begins to consider where he could find such a girl.
1. A minx he doesn’t have to pay for. Loose – (
2. A chanteuse happy to be bought a drink in return for contract-free sex.
3. A slut with a welcoming, warm cleavage to comfort his loneliness. A harlot who’ll disappear as soon as the light dusts through the hotel window.
Then, he sees such a woman. Alone, self-possessed, wiping a stray tear, she stirs her cocktail. She looks straight at Jon Wonderbaum. She looks sad. Familiar. Unsettled. Wonderbaum smiles at her. She rises from her seat and walks slowly over.
And Wonderbaum remembers: the cosmetics company in London.
1. She’d called him in to her office for failing to reach the new sales targets.
2. She’d snarled at him for letting the team down.
3. She’d fired him right there on the spot.
Tonight, he thinks, she’ll do.