Copyright 2005 by Zvi Zaks
Bernie Moskovitz leaned back, loosened his tie, and nodded at the young woman across from the desk. "What do you have?"
His apprentice, Charlene, hunched forward in her chair and cleared her throat. "It's, uh, it's a cigarette commercial."
Moskovitz's mouth fell open. "A cigarette commercial? Why waste your time on that? You'll never get it approved."
Charlene sniffed and rubbed her hands together. With her short black hair and perky features, she could have been pretty, but a frown and wrinkled brow distorted her face. "Well, maybe the council will pass this one. It's very low key. And, after all, cigarettes are a legitimate commodity." She cleared her throat. "Uh, I know this isn't the best product, Bernie, but clients are sort of sparse now."