11. Observations
11
Observations
Over the next few days, I developed a decent rhythm for Sal’s project. For Janice, I guessed. Sometimes, he’d send me screenshots to show me his progress.
Sal: What do you think of the fairy lights?
They were the same ones from the background of her bedroom selfies. He would’ve done more recon photos himself, but she was too busy with birthday week to entertain his sleuthing, apparently.
Me: The strands are good, but transparency on the bulbs will take a lot of processing power. Try dithering.
Sal: What does that mean?
I cracked my fingers. Should I explain it myself?
Me: Research it, then come back to me if you still don’t understand.
He sent me a stupid gif of someone holding a book upside down.
Snorting, I shook my head. He’d figure it out soon enough. A lot of tech was knowledge, but a lot was trial and error. Like life, I supposed.
Sal and I ate lunch together when schedules permitted. He’d slide into the booth across from me and start chatting. We were often interrupted by people who wanted to bump his fist or say hello. If they stopped for a chat, I’d just read. But sometimes he introduced me, so I’d put a bookmark in whatever I was doing and make small talk with his friends. It was almost fun, catching up on the gossip of annoying customers and failed sales pitches.
But with all these friends, why’d he sit with me? We didn’t talk about Janice’s gift much. I wasn’t exactly bubbly.
I glanced at the black mirror of my silent phone. Maybe he thought I was lonely.
Well, I didn’t need his pity. After this week, he’d go back to his groups, and I’d be fine reading on my own with the occasional fist-bump as he passed. I straightened my spine. “Can we talk about your game?” I asked.
“Uh, sure.” He waved off his friend, then spread his legs. “What’s up, slugger?”
I gathered my stuff. “I think we should test our custom content as soon as possible to debug it in time for her birthday.”
He leaned forward. “Sounds smart. Should I bring my laptop to the store tomorrow?”
“No.” I didn’t want Ash to know I was simping for him or whatever. “The tech desk is reserved for work stuff.”
“Do you want me to come by your place?” He screwed up his brows, so he must’ve suspected my answer.
“No.” Way too personal. We were work friends.
“You want to come to mine?” He chuckled and glanced away.
“No.” I huffed, uncrossing my leg and accidentally whacking his shin.
He hissed and buckled over. “Ow. What then?”
Why was this so complicated? I twisted the brim of my cap. “Sorry. I was hoping for somewhere more public. We wouldn’t want Janice to get the wrong idea.”
He drummed on the table and bobbed his head, his gaze skipping across the break room. “We could go to a library, but I’m probably too chatty. Although you might prefer to go somewhere with someone shushing me.” He chuckled, rubbing his goatee.
“I like it when you talk.” Shit. That might sound weird. I tugged my cap and glanced away. “Well, usually.”
He laughed, his eyes brightening. “Was that a compliment?”
“Don’t let it go to your head.” The last thing I needed was another guy mistaking friendship for flirting. I wrinkled my nose. “What about that coffee place on the other side of the mall?”
“The Bern?”
“Sure. I’ll see you there, nine a.m.” I left before I tripped into any more banter. Too much could be lethal to our mutual respect.
I threw myself into work. Focus. Test. Results.
Ash stopped by my desk on the way to the stockroom. “Everything going okay?”
“Yep.”
“Keep up the good work.” She smiled, her thumbs tucked into her belt loops.
How was she so effortlessly in control? Breezy? Tough yet feminine.
I sighed, vaguely spinning my chair to study her.
Someone laughed near the entrance. Sal jerked his chin at me and grinned while flipping juggle sticks for today’s toy demonstration.
Embarrassment pricked through my spine. ‘What?’ I mouthed.
He just wagged his eyebrows.
What the hell was he on about? I didn’t pay enough attention at work or something? I rolled my eyes and got back to fixing stuff.
A few hours later at closing, he stopped by the store. “Hey, ladies.”
“Oh, are we talking again?” Ash teased, sorting phone cases.
“Yes,” he said, mock-offended, and set his juggle-sticks on the counter. “I was coming by to see if you two wanted to go to a movie after this.”
“Sure, what’s playing?” she asked .
I slunk down in my seat. Victor was working. I bet he’d be lurking over the balcony, judging us for every little thing like finding his girlfriend pretty or joking around when someone was in a relationship.
Sal checked his phone. “Janice wants to see Must Love Mimi at 9:30.”
Ash grimaced. “Actually, I’m beat.”
“What? You love Scarlet Jolie,” he insisted.
She rolled her eyes. “Just because she’s hot doesn’t mean I want to spend an hour and a half watching her fall in love with some guy.”
“I hear it has some great scenes. Plus, we haven’t been to the movies in weeks. Zero, what do you think?” He extended his hand to me.
Normally, I’d watch romcoms from the comfort of my home with a box of tissues and a bag of chips in front of me. But he raised his eyebrows ever-so-slightly, almost pleading.
What would I go home to if I said no? Nothing? No one? Another night harvesting in Craft Cove?
I doubted I’d be at True Tech long enough for an opportunity like this to present itself. Not that I wanted company. But an hour and a half of amicable quiet with this particular set of acquaintances would be proof I could do casual stuff with no alcohol or innuendos present. Victor would have to see us and realize we were good, that I was good, together or otherwise.
“It’s five-dollar Tuesdays,” I reasoned.
Sal grinned and slapped the counter. “See? She’s in. Come on, Ash. Make it a foursome.”
“Fine,” she relented.
Within fifteen minutes, we clocked out, went through security, then circled around to the theater.
“I’ll buy the tickets, and you can all pay me back. I have a membership,” I said, summoning the Westbrook Cineplex app .
Sal clapped my back. “Yes, Zero with the inside contact.” He straightened, then trotted to the entrance, where Janice waited for him. “Hey, babes. How’s birthday week been?” he asked.
His girlfriend talked with her hands almost as much as he did.
Ash crossed her arms and whispered, “Don’t make me sit next to her.”
“Okay.” No problem.
We joined the couple, and I showed our tickets to get us in.
Ash stuck to my side, forcing a smile and flattening her tone. “Hi, Janice.”
“Happy early birthday,” I added.
“Thank you. So glad you could join us,” she said, but her nose wrinkled more than her lips upturned in a smile. She turned to Sal. “Can we get some snacks?”
“Hell yeah. What’re you feeling?” He wrapped his arm around her and led her to the concession stand.
Ash sighed and stuck her hands in her pockets. “Do you want anything?”
“No.” I tugged my cap and scanned the area, including upstairs. I just didn’t want to linger here. The dented spiral staircase might as well have been a middle finger, a glitch permanently embedded in my brain, my heart, and my reputation. All the finer hairs on my body stood to attention.
“Do you come here often because of your brother?” she asked.
I shook my head and hugged myself. “I haven’t been here since before Halloween.”
“No shit, they still have The Widow,” a passing teen enthused.
Acid tickled the back of my throat. However Ash felt about Janice, it was nothing compared to the dread of facing my biggest failure: the spider mech by Theater Six.