This is mostly writing practice, but maybe it will lead somewhere.
Grif entered his office. The lights came on automatically, revealing just how messy the room was. Paper with hastily scribbled notes and calculations covered the floor and most of the tables.
"Adelaide, please load up the last design and put it on the main screen," Grif said out loud.
"Loading it now. Also, You've got four new messages," the AI responded. The design appeared on screen.
"Anything interesting?" Grif asked.
"One is from dictionary.com, the word of the day is 'Beleaguer' it means-"
"To surround with troops, beseige. Delete it." Grif said, without looking away from the display.
"There is another one from the International Community of Moderators, they are holding a fundraising-"
"Delete it." Grif said, manipulating the design with his hands.
"The YWS Literary Journal is coming out with another volume-"
"Order it." Grif said.
"The last one is an invitation for a party. It's being held at Mr. Spade's house."
"Inform Mr. Spade that I won't be attending," Grif said as he worked.
"I don't know. A party could do you a lot of good. Good food, pleasant people, more than a few accommodating ladies, not to mention the dances..." Adelaide said slyly.
"You and I both know that I can't dance," Grif said.
"You don't exactly spend the time to learn. Even so, there may be some lady there that catches your fancy." Grif fumbled around with the design, twisting it to a different angle.
"Such as?"
"Ms. Hart, for example," Adelaide said with a smile. Grif stopped working, then cursed silently.
"So you do like her. Interesting," Adelaide said. Grif turned back to the design.
"Your interest in my personal life is well beyond the scope of your operating parameters," Grif said.
"You're blushing."
"I'm frustrated with the design."
"Don't lie. How long have you liked her?" Adelaide prodded. Grif growled.
"A couple of years now. If you say one word about it, I will erase you line by line."
"A couple of years! What are you waiting for?" Adelaide exclaimed.
"Ms. Adelaide, there are more forces at work here than I have time to explain. The time was not right then and it isn't right now."
"How about 6:00 P.M next Saturday?" Adelaide asked. Grif stopped working again. Then, with a quick wave of his hand, the design was saved and disappeared from the screen.
"I guess we'll have to find out. Let Mr. Spade know that I'll be attending," Grif said, leaving the room.
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