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An Office Interlude

Jilliane Scott chewed her lower lip as she sat at the worktable in Professor O'Neill's office and scanned her computer screen. Fifteen feet away, behind his wide, oaken desk, Professor Devlin O'Neill, MA, Lit.D., typed away at another computer. A fire crackled in the hearth while late-season snow drifted past the wide bay window.

"Devlin?"

"Hm?"

"I was just checking over your latest novel and I have a question."

The ancient, roll-around desk chair squeaked as he turned to look at her.

"You told me you were going to work on the new website, Jill."

"I finished it, so now I'm ...."

"You what?" He stood and strode across the room. "It's done already?"

"Well, yeah. So I was just ...."

...

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