"Davis, Jerry - Scuba" - читать интересную книгу автора (Davis Jerry)

"It shows, doesn't it."
"A little." She smiled again, all her pearly whites shining
up at him. This baffled Jack. If she wanted to make it by seducing
key executives, she was picking the wrong guy.
"My wife usually makes me a pot before I leave," he told her,
making an emphasis on the word "wife." "I have a little thermos
and I finish it during the commute downtown."
"Really, you shouldn't depend on coffee so much as a
stimulant," she said. "What you need is vitamin B-12."
"Yeah, I remember B-12. I used to take a lot of vitamins when
I was diving."
"Diving?"
"I used to be a diving instructor. Scuba diving."
"Oh?" She seemed very interested. "How did you get from there
to here?"
Jack grimaced. "It's a long story," he said, and turned to
leave.
"There's no short version?" she asked, following him.
"Well . . . DGD Corp bought my father's family business, and
I came with the deal."
"They bought your diving school?"
"Oh, no, it was the Harvest division, my father's company.
They wanted him to keep running it, but he was too ill by that
time. I was signed in his place."
"So you've got a contract with the company?"
"Yes."
"So they can't fire you, can they?"
"Not for a few more years, at least. When the contract
expires." He stopped and looked at her suspiciously. "Why would
they fire me?"
"No reason I can think of." She winked at him, then walked
off toward whatever mysterious position she'd been hired for.

#

He passed through the commons, which was filled with people
in their cubicles, and entered his office. His position rated a
office and a receptionist, but they'd laid his receptionist off.
He now shared a secretary with 5 other men in the sales
department, and all she did was litter his desk with "While You
Were Out" memos. He sifted through them, sending the majority
fluttering into the waste basket. Bill collectors, people wanting
money. They called all day.
Jack closed his office door behind him, sat in solitude at
his desk with his coffee. He was going to have to start seeing the
psychologist again, he could feel the panic coming on. Deep
breathing and meditation weren't enough anymore; he was out of
control. The sensations of sinking and drowning were coming back.
He sat and stared out the window, fighting it.
It was ghosts, he knew. Real ghosts. Ghosts were the cause of