If he's just being paranoid, Ginsberg is, too, because although he doesn't say anything to Bob, he gives him a sort of look, one that couldn't accurately be described as distrust, exactly, but one that doesn't scream great levels of friendship, either. And perhaps it's significant, too, that he doesn't say anything to Bob as he heads back towards the offices -- apparently, the guy doesn't warrant any comment about where the two of them are going.
Opening the door to the large yet cluttered room he and the rest of the creative team work in, he gestures around, like he's giving Ned the official tour. "This is where I work," he says, easily slipping back into what sounds like a cheerful tone now that there are other people around. "Stan's usually here, and I'd introduce you, but he's not here today. Sick, or so he says."
There're papers scattered all across the table in the center of the room, and the walls are all covered in scraps of paper; drawings, scribblings, fully formed advertisements, single word notes that must mean something to someone but are probably incomprehensible to Ned. "Peggy?" he calls out, and several seconds later, she's peeking her head around her office door. "I'm going home," he says, not asking for permission, not explaining himself, "But I'll be back tomorrow. Of course. For the meeting. Wouldn't miss it. It'll be great."
Peggy stares at him for a moment, then shifts her gaze to Ned, offering him a smile -- a genuine one, and not at all the too warm smile that Bob had given them. "Okay," she says, "Get some rest. It was nice to meet you, Ned."
Ginsberg grabs an overflowing file from the stack of them on the table, and hurries out of the office towards the elevators as fast as he can without looking like he's running away. In truth, he kind of is running away, and he's glad none of the executives had been there to apprehend him. Bob gives him a strange sense of unease, but he's got no power, and Peggy might get frustrated, but at least she cares a little and isn't likely to gossip too badly. He presses the button for the elevator three times, urging it to come more quickly.
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Opening the door to the large yet cluttered room he and the rest of the creative team work in, he gestures around, like he's giving Ned the official tour. "This is where I work," he says, easily slipping back into what sounds like a cheerful tone now that there are other people around. "Stan's usually here, and I'd introduce you, but he's not here today. Sick, or so he says."
There're papers scattered all across the table in the center of the room, and the walls are all covered in scraps of paper; drawings, scribblings, fully formed advertisements, single word notes that must mean something to someone but are probably incomprehensible to Ned. "Peggy?" he calls out, and several seconds later, she's peeking her head around her office door. "I'm going home," he says, not asking for permission, not explaining himself, "But I'll be back tomorrow. Of course. For the meeting. Wouldn't miss it. It'll be great."
Peggy stares at him for a moment, then shifts her gaze to Ned, offering him a smile -- a genuine one, and not at all the too warm smile that Bob had given them. "Okay," she says, "Get some rest. It was nice to meet you, Ned."
Ginsberg grabs an overflowing file from the stack of them on the table, and hurries out of the office towards the elevators as fast as he can without looking like he's running away. In truth, he kind of is running away, and he's glad none of the executives had been there to apprehend him. Bob gives him a strange sense of unease, but he's got no power, and Peggy might get frustrated, but at least she cares a little and isn't likely to gossip too badly. He presses the button for the elevator three times, urging it to come more quickly.