She looked up. It was Dennis Tibble. “Morning, honey.” His voice grated on her nerves.
Tibble was the company's computer genius. He was known around the plant as “The Fixer.”
Whenever a computer crashed, Tibble was sent for. He was in his early thirties, thin and bald with an unpleasant, arrogant attitude.
He had an obsessive personality, and the word around the plant was that he was fixated on Ashley.
“Need any help?” “No, thank you.” “Hey, what about us having a little dinner Saturday night?”
“Thank you. I'm busy.” “Going out with the boss again?” Ashley turned to look at him, angry.
“Look, it's none of your—” “I don't know what you see in him, anyway. He's a nerd, cubed. I can give you a better time.”
He winked. “You know what I mean?” Ashley was trying to control her temper. “I have work to do, Dennis.”
Tibble leaned close to her and whispered, “There's something you're going to learn about me, honey. I don't give up. Ever.”
She watched him walk away, and wondered: Could he be the one?
At 12:30, Ashley put her computer in suspend mode and headed for Margherita di Roma, where she was joining her father for lunch.
She sat at a corner table in the crowded restaurant, watching her father come toward her.
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