The Trainer
“Lorens, in white shorts and a tank top, was carrying plates from the kitchen, and Joan, looking very round and dark next to him, was directing the action as part of her training in management techniques. Anderson, watching from the dining room door, raised one finger to stop Joan from picking up the call and got it herself. Michael kept watching the workers as they neatly laid the table and vanished. It was hard not to knock into each other in the small space of the formal dining room, but some...how, they managed it.
“Yes, he’s here. Hold for a moment, please.”
Anderson laid the receiver down and tapped Michael on the shoulder.
“Would you go get Chris? This is for him.”
“Sure, Trainer.” He jogged upstairs and down the hall, to where Chris’s room was, and knocked on the door.
“Chris! Phone call.”
Chris came to the door with a frown on his face. Michael could see a laptop computer open and running on the desk by the window—sometimes Chris worked for hours on whatever he was writing.MoreLess
“Yes, he’s here. Hold for a moment, please.”
Anderson laid the receiver down and tapped Michael on the shoulder.
“Would you go get Chris? This is for him.”
“Sure, Trainer.” He jogged upstairs and down the hall, to where Chris’s room was, and knocked on the door.
“Chris! Phone call.”
Chris came to the door with a frown on his face. Michael could see a laptop computer open and running on the desk by the window—sometimes Chris worked for hours on whatever he was writing.MoreLess
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