A Serial Novel - Chapter 3: Clive Finch

Clem was not himself.

Only I would notice such a thing.  I see Clem five days a week.  I'm his boss, Clive Finch, branch supervisor of Nowhere Bank.  Nice meeting you.  Do you have an account with Nowhere Bank?  We're currently offering a ... Sorry, sometimes I bring my work into more situations than necessary.  My girlfriend has yelled at me for celebrating the past quarter in the bedroom.  Personal weakness, but I love my job.  I have always enjoyed working with figures, so when my grandfather retired and asked me to take over the business, I jumped at the chance.

I hired Clem about a month ago.  He had a rough track record, but he told me exactly what he was coming to Nowhere for: a fresh start.  He proved himself by showing me 14 different ways that I could help my business be more productive.  I ignored all of them, but hired him on the spot.  Such innovation could be useful if something were to go wrong.

Clem was on time, every morning, and wearing a suit that was far too formal for this town.  It brought in more ladies to open accounts, so I didn't actually mind, but I did tease him about it on a fairly regular basis.  The best part is, other than when he asked me for the job, he barely says more than a word or two, all day long.  It's great!  I have peace and quiet to daydream, unless we have customers, and on Tuesday, that generally meant tons of peace and quiet.

Except today.  Today, it was not quiet, which is why I knew, Clem was not himself.

Clem was whistling.

It let it go for about an hour.  He whistled in tune, and in a way it was a nice change to the typical quiet.  However, after the fifth repeat of "Raindrops Are Fallin' On My Head," I cleared my throat.

Clem stopped immediately.  "Yes?" he asked.

"Clem, why are you whistling?" I asked.

"I hadn't realized I was.  I can stop if it was bothering you," Clem responded.

"It wasn't bothering me at all.  You whistle quite well.  I was wondering why you were whistling.  You are usually silent."

"It's been a good day," Clem said.

"Anything happen of note?" I asked, hoping he might just give me a straight answer.

"I met an honest girl," Clem said.

"In town?" I scoffed, with a laugh.  "What's her name?  I've dated most of them, and none of them have been honest.  Most, in addition to dating me, have husbands at home.  Meaning: not honest."

"Oh, she doesn't have a husband," Clem responded, smiling.

"You like this girl!  Cool as a cucumber Clem likes someone!  This is hilarious!  Seriously, man, what's her name?  I am going to laugh hysterically at the look on your face when I tell you her husband's name."

"Caroline," Clem said, looking me straight in the eyes.  I stopped.  That look was the one thing Clem did from his past that always stopped me dead in my tracks.  There was still something dangerous lurking inside that beautiful suit of his.

"Caroline, who works at The Golden Florist?" I asked.

"Yes," Clem said.  "Is there something wrong with her?"

"No, nothing.  She turned me down flat.  She's not married," I said, a bit sheepishly.

Clem chuckled under his breath, then fell silent again.

"What are you laughing for?" I asked, slightly offended.

"It means I'm right, Clive.  It means she's honest.  Do you have any idea how long it has been since I met an honest girl?"

I stopped.  "So she turned you down too?" I asked.

"Of course, she did," Clem answered.  "She has taste.  I happen to like that in a woman."

"So what are you going to do?  You obviously like her.  Otherwise, you wouldn't be whistling.  Are you going to ask her out again?"

"No," Clem said, resolutely, "I'm going to see her tomorrow morning, just like she said."

I laughed.  "Letting a girl call the shots, huh?  What are you, a pussy?"

"No," Clem said, with a smile that was scarier than his glare.  "I'm a man who wants a woman who is happy.  Happy women are a joy to be around.  Generally, if you listen when a woman talks, then try to give her what she asks for, she is more likely to be happy.  If she asks for more than I want to give, I just say no, and I'm equally honest with her.  It keeps things simple."

I opened my mouth to respond, then closed it.  I had no smart retort to respond to that.  I decided then and there: I had hired a reincarnation of James Bond.  Clem knew women.  I immediately began thinking about how many women Clem could have, at one time.  Of course, in my thinking this, I was playing the role of Clem.  It was a happy thought.

"I'm going to take lunch," Clem said, putting his jacket back on and buttoning the top button.

I looked down at the clock on my desk.  It was noon.  Wow, time had flown by.  "You go ahead.  I'll see you around 1."

Clem nodded, and took off out the front door to walk home.  Clem generally went home for lunch, because it was so close.  Plus, he said the walking was good for him with a desk job.  I watched him walk around the corner.  Then, I watched Mr. Golden put a closed sign on the door of his shop and also walked around the corner.  I laughed.

Gossip travels fast in a small town.  Clem was in for a not so simple time.

A screenshot of a Clive Finch custom miniature from HeroForge.com