James 2 A

 "It's a half past seven! Where have you been?" Mrs. Melby scowled at James from under her glasses. She expected an answer and James should not have felt obliged to give one, except for the truth of what he had been doing, which he was afraid she might see.  

"Meow..." Even Shelby cried a scorn and they both waited on James for a reply.

"I worked late at the office." James still had his briefcase.  

"There's soup in the kitchen, I don't suppose you're wanting something more?  I made a roasted chicken..."

Mrs. Melby had made a roasted chicken three nights ago.  James had smelled it then. She had been trying to serve it as a fresh roasted chicken ever since and James certainly wasn't going to pay the price for fresh chicken for a third day roast. 

"I think not. Mrs. Melby.  Thank you." She took his disinterest as a scorn and handed him a paper from her tablet of expenses.

"Anyway here's your bill for the month." It was making sense now.  Her last chance at selling her old chicken and charging him on his monthly bill had passed.  She was resigned to charge him only his base rate for the month with no extra charges, a thing she hated.

James took his bill and headed up stairs but he was stopped by another invitation "Drinks and cards in the parlor at eight James?" She was relentless.  Although in her defense, a drink or two was something James indulged from time to time, especially when cards were in play.

"I have work tonight Mrs. Melby, thank you." James climbed the stairs.

 Mrs. Melby watched him narrowly.  "Two and a half hours overtime and still you're not done?"

She was keen and James had no cover for her accusation. He was only left feeling uncomfortable for  her pressing, because he had not done overtime at all and she was treading dreadfully close to revealing him with her inquiries.

"A man must do what a man must do Mrs. Melby." She stared hard at him and he stared back. why did she care so much? 

She must have seen his discomfort because eventually she added "Well, if you happen to finish soon, you know there is a place for you at the table."

His room was a welcome haven.  No more interrogating questions! He spread his ledger and notebook open on his desk and began the quarterly review that he had offered to finish. It really was good luck to have the work.  It was seldom he or any of the other gents had the opportunity to standout pushing numbers. He ought to make good use of the chance to make a good impression on Andre Bane.