Diana’s Page

He stepped up to the table where she sat. Her eyes followed a lone bird scratching in the packed snow outside the window at her left.   ”May I join you, Marie?”  His was a confident voice, accustomed to being heeded. He wore a well cut suit that made the most of his broad shoulders.  He wasn’t especially tall, nor was there anything exceptional about his looks, but he carried himself with assurance.   She wasn’t startled; she’d seen him approaching.   ”Have we met?”  Her grey eyes looked closely into his brown ones, without recognition.  ”Only on the phone.” He extended a well-groomed right hand towards her over the table. “I’m Justin Melsen.”She glanced at his outstretched hand, better manicured than her own, then back into his face.”While I might concede that you are only doing your job, Justin,”  she said as the curiosity left her face, to be replaced by distaste, “and that you may have little, if any influence on decisions that are made, I have no desire to shake your hand. Nor do I want your company.”