As if the day hadn't dragged on long enough, Lindsey's inability to decipher the writing of the secretary who had taken the message was making the quick stop much longer than it needed to be. He was beginning to get the faint idea that he was in the wrong place altogether, not just the floor. But it didn't hurt to be certain before swearing at the world.
His last hope was on the second floor. If the office wasn't there, he needed to be at the building up the block. A quick glance at his watch confirmed that if this wasn't the place, he'd have to come back tomorrow. "Damn it," he muttered as he pushed open the door that led out onto the second floor.
Just as he'd suspected, that hadn't been a 2. It'd been a 7...or possibly a 9. He needed to learn how to translate scrawl, or at least find someone with neater handwriting to pass along his messages.
Spotting someone else on the floor, Lindsey headed in his direction, putting on his most amiable smile as he approached him. "Excuse me. I'm having a little bit of trouble figuring out this number." He held up the scrap of paper, finger moving just under the number. "That a seven or a nine?"