Description: Glenn Sabine's impeccably loyal assistant, Pike Setter, has an attitude. You haven't seen it ... until now.
Eve Goes to New York! PART 2.
The air in the Devon Station train terminal was oppressively stifling – more to the point, stifling Pike Setter’s style. Being assistant to Mr. Glenn Sabine came with no perks, no side benefits, compensation packages, or solatia whatsoever. Pike was one step away from dumping the arrogant show-off and taking off on his own, starting his own Miss Teenager contest that lasted weeks or maybe even months, depending on the bank loan’s minimum interest rate at low turnover.
Sure, he wouldn’t have the quick-witted brains or the slim-figured brawn of Mr. Sabine, but he could smoke a mean cigarette, and nobody – and he meant nobody – could beat him at one-on-one poker. Those were major assets, and if Glenn Sabine didn’t agree, he could just kiss his assets.
Then came this. Complaint number 5,678 since they got to this one-horse town and checked into the Ritz, translated in Devon as the dilapidated shanty they called the Devon House hotel.
Pike had hooked them all up with tickets, but there was obviously a problem. There was always a problem.
“Oh, you’re traveling by coach,” squawked the Sabine. “Very sensible, Pike!”
Pike whirled around in a miff. “Yes?”
Sabine was pouring on the charm all over Eve Jones like oil on a massage. Probably for the sake of the sister chaperone.
“Exchange these coach seats for parlor, will you?” Sabine said with that tone he got when he transformed from quiet mongrel to dimwitted ignoramus. Always the actor. “It’ll be much cozier that way,” Sabine added. “Better get a move on.”
Get a what?! Pike groaned to himself as he walked off, clutching the tickets in his sweaty palms. Who in the world did Glenn Sabine think Pike Setter was, anyway? His beckon call-boy? He thought not. In fact, he thought a thousand nots.
Of course, you had to admire the old barnstormer for his con skill, thought Pike. Glenn Sabine – master of the empty gesture, Grand Mufti of Siam. Pike huffed to himself, alone with his thoughts as he wandered away to exchange the tickets. Now, exactly how in the frigg was he expected to switch seats to parlor, pray tell? Sabine had to sweat out the bucks for these coach tickets!
This was going to be a very long train ride, he grumbled, but as he eyed the older sister from across the platform, he flashed himself a smart-alecky smirk. Maybe exchanging tickets wasn’t such a bad idea. Now he could set himself up with a seat right next to her.
