Glenn was still feeling a little bit tired after his...ordeal with the West Rhydin Construction Company and his unexpected move over to the Red Dragon Inn. He was just happy that he had been able to get his stuff over to the Inn, that they'd had a free room available for him to stay at, and that he had had some assistance moving things in. The whole thing had left him as spent as the last few drops of wax in a dying candle, and it was only sheer force of habit that enabled him to wake up in the morning, and not just sleep through the afternoon.

But what was he going to do today' He couldn't walk over to the Stitch in Time and put in some extra hours on the shelves and display case there. The store was still open, and customers might frown upon having to shop with the sounds of banging, sawing, and sanding going on above their heads. And as much as Glenn wanted to just roll over and go back to sleep, his work ethic wouldn't let him. There had to be something he could do; he only had a little bit of money saved up, after all. He racked his brains as he bathed, ate some banana bread and slices of cantaloupe for breakfast, and flipped through one of the local, cheaply produced broadsheet newspapers.

The answer came to him as he read some ignorant columnist's screed against the Governor, something about how she wasn't tough enough on crime. That's it, Glenn thought. Lydia had said something about the Governor needing someone to help build a clinic. In fact, I think she'd talked to Kitty a couple of weeks ago or so about me. He winced a bit, both at the horribly written editorial and his tardiness. It wasn't entirely his fault. Between his (former) job tearing and rebuilding old apartments and his weekend work at the Stitch, he had barely had enough time to eat and sleep properly, let alone look for another job. Now that he was mostly unemployed, though, he had no excuse. It was time to pay the governor a visit.

Glenn crumpled up the newspaper, threw it away, and went back to his room. His white dress shirt was still somewhat wrinkled, and the nicest pants he owned were his newest pair of canvas carpenter's slacks (which weren't really all that new, but at least they didn't have any holes). He put them on, tried to smooth out the wrinkles in his shirt, and adjusted the collar and cuffs. He sighed. Hopefully she would appreciate the effort of attempting to dress up, if not the execution. He left the Inn, hailed a carriage, and quickly made his way over to the governor's office.

***

He sat in the waiting room, waiting for the receptionist to call him up to the desk. When they did, he spoke, a little faster than usual.

"I'm, uh, here to see the Governor. If she's not busy. If she is busy, I'd like to make an appointment to see her sometime." He kept his hands behind his back so he could wring them out of the receptionist's sight. If he could just get past the secretary, and start talking shop with somebody, he knew he would be a lot more relaxed. That he would easily win them over.

It took Glenn a little while to realize that he had seen the governor around the Inn before a few times, and when he did, he almost did a double-take, his eyes widening with surprise for a moment. He had only noticed Kitty in passing, but what immediately stood out in his mind was how tall she was, at least compared to him. She was a good half a foot taller than he was. He was used to seeing men who towered over him, but not as accustomed to women who did the same, and it was slightly intimidating. His face quickly returned to normal, though, as she laid out the blueprints, and he took the drafting pencil.

At that moment, Glenn was thankful he had decided to take elective coursework in trade school. Although it had meant he stayed a year longer than he needed to, he had picked up some valuable, if basic, knowledge that was only indirectly related to his primary job, furniture-building. He had been utilizing one of those skills, building demolition, at his old job. Now, he had a chance to take advantage of another one of his abilities. He took the pencil but made no marks, examining the blueprints ("Thank you, blueprint reading class!" he thought to himself), occasionally brushing light-brown locks of hair into and out of his eyes. It seemed to be a simple, no-nonsense building design. He was confident that, at least on the physical construction side of things, he would be able to build this clinic to be structurally sound, without running into too many difficulties. However, Glenn wasn't sure about the leadership side of things. Would grizzled, well-worn construction workers listen to a young whippersnapper like him' He tapped his forehead briefly with the pencil, a slight frown on his face.

"Is this the project you want me to work on?" he asked, gesturing to the blueprints. "It kind of looks like a building me and my poppa worked on once." He rested the pencil on his head now, briefly in thought. A few years back, Glenn and his father had worked with other carpenters and construction workers to build a homeless shelter which, although the interior was somewhat different, had a similar exterior design. "I don't have a lot of experience with construction, but I know enough about blueprints and materials and such that I can help you build this without too much trouble." He paused, trying to phrase his question so it didn't sound like he lacked confidence. "Who would I be working with' Who's building this?" He had to resist the urge to put the pencil in his mouth and chew on it. Be confident, he thought, and he straightened up as he waited for Kitty's response.