"In fact, I think Tom Harrison is a director for the company, isn't he?" he asked Charly.

"I guess it's quite possible. The day I was in there, I was too busy trying to defend myself against McKinnon's attacks to take any notice of the others. Thanks, Dad. It would be just like him to throw in a director's file and hope I embarrassed myself."

"Now, Charly, he can't be all that bad. I don't know the man personally, but I've never heard anything against him. Are you sure you aren't imagining things?"

"Yeah, I suppose I'm just paranoid because I want this job so badly." She dropped the subject and went to the phone, her good humour restored as she thought of McKinnon's face tomorrow.

"Hi, Uncle Henry. Are you going to be home tomorrow? Yes? Will you do me a favour? I've got to come over there with a stuffed shirt on business and I want you to pretend you don't know me, until I give you a signal. Don't ask why. It's just a little joke among friends. Okay?"

After some muttering, her uncle finally agreed and they said their goodbyes. Charly was grinning as she prepared for bed.

McKinnon never so much as batted an eye when he joined her next morning in her car. She had donned Western boots, snug jeans, semi-dressy western shirt and had tucked her hair up under her western hat. Outside of a brief "Good morning," he was his usual inscrutable self.

It was just a short drive to her uncle's farm, and Charly could hardly wait to get there. She jumped out of the SUV, picked up her clipboard and headed over to where here uncle was working on a tractor engine. She swung her hips and made the most of her snug jeans, knowing that McKinnon was following and watching.

Her uncle straightened up as she approached, and she watched in amazement as he looked past her, smiled and stretched his hand out to McKinnon.

"T. G. How are you?" he asked, shaking hands with him. She looked from one to the other, knowing suddenly that her plan had somehow gone quite wrong. As they talked to each other, ignoring her completely, she became annoyed, then enraged. Turning her back on them, she yanked her hat from her head, forgetting about her hair. As it tumbled in glowing auburn waves to her waist, she stomped into the barn, leaving the others where they were.

She was unaware of the gleam in McKinnon's eye as he watched her progress. Her uncle had his back to the barn, so saw only the admiration on T. G..'s face, not the reason for it.




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