Chapter Sixteen #2
"We haven't exactly worked out the kinks yet," I jumped in to save her, my words of choice getting a saucy sly smile from Krissy. "That's... what we are doing tonight," I added, just dig, dig, digging my hole deeper. As if shit wasn't complicated enough already.
"It is important to iron out those... kinks," Krissy agreed, holding back a smile.
"What? What's so funny?" Marley asked, looking between the mismatch of amused and embarrassed adults around her.
"Kinks," Calvin schooled her in that condescending-ass voice of his. When he just got a blank look from the girl, he rolled his eyes and plugged on. "Kinks. Like fucking. Christ. That innocent shit is annoying."
"Or just honest," Marley said, squaring her shoulders, lifting her chin, refusing to be embarrassed about inexperience.
It was a look the Mallick women would clap over if they saw it.
It was a look they wanted their daughters to have.
"Anyway," she said, crossing her arms over her chest, looking me square in the eye, "I hope you decide not to work here.
As you can see, we are full-up on curmudgeons. "
With that, she plowed past us, making a bee-line for the stairs that led downward.
"She's... temperamental," Krissy told me.
"Like a fucking bomb," Calvin agreed, moving past me to follow down the steps as well. Whether it was to fight some more with the girl or make amends, or to simply meet his parents coming to pick him up was anyone's guess.
"How old are they?" I asked, turning back to Krissy and Reagan.
"Um... Marley is sixteen. Calvin is almost eighteen, though," Reagan said.
"That was why I picked him out of the group the police and school had, even though he and Marley hate each other, and she was already on the team.
I wanted to make sure we could try to give him a little direction before he became legal. He's, ah, a bit headstrong."
"A bit?" I asked. "I think my mom would have cut out my tongue if I cursed like that around adults at that age. Or any age," I admitted.
"Calvin's dad is, well, let's just say that when kids turn out that angry, there is usually a reason," Reagan said carefully.
"He's actually mellowed out a lot since he's started here.
And he's smart. The school told us he was close to flunking all his classes, but he's a smart kid.
He could be acing everything if he applied himself.
I think I might actually hire him on once he's done with the mandatory stuff. My parents have always offered help with student loans for employees if they give back two years after they graduate. We can give him the head start his father doesn’t seem... inclined to."
"That's a big heart you got there," I said because it seemed true.
"And let me guess, you think that's a flaw," she said, glancing away.
"I never said that."
"I am just... very aware of how privileged I have been. And how many kids aren't so lucky. I wanted to give back."
"What about Marley?" I asked. "Will you hire her on?"
"Marley is going to take over the world in some way," Reagan said, smiling fondly, almost motherly. "She's going to have every scholarship available to her with her grades. I think she is going to go into politics and yell at people like she yells at Calvin all the time."
"I think we should offer her a summer and after school job," Krissy piped in.
"You just want to see if you are right about those two, and know the only way it could possibly happen is if they are working in close proximity."
"They're children," Harvey's voice joined us once again, this time standing up from behind his cubicle. "Stop betting on their relationships. It's weird."
"Marley wasn't exactly kidding about our resident curmudgeons," Krissy said, ignoring him. "Nixon, this is Harvey. Harvey, Nixon."
Harvey was tall and thin, just the right side of gangly, but only just. Tattoos snaked over the tops of his hands, up his neck, seemingly over his chest, peeking out of the white tee he was wearing, the neck a little loose and sad-looking.
Over the tee he wore an open-front flannel in blue and gray.
His hair was light brown, a little long, and his brown eyes were half-hidden behind black-framed glasses.
"He's our social media manager," Reagan explained.
"Wait... he's the social media manager?" I asked, looking over at Krissy, who seemed much more suited for the task. "Not you?"
"Honey, I am the money," she said, giving me a slow, prideful smile. "I handle the accounts."
Interesting.
"Harvey actually kind of went viral when he started working here for answering nasty comments on our Facebook and Twitter with equally rude retorts," Reagan told me. "He became an overnight sensation."
"Kids like that shit," I agreed. "Why isn't he your spokesman?" I asked. Instead of the old dude in a suit with a fucking pinky ring which seemed wholly out of touch with most people's reality.
“Harvey?” Krissy asked, face scrunching up like I'd suggested they go find Bigfoot and put him in the position.
"Yeah. If you're looking to appeal to twenty-something and early thirty-somethings, they like that shit. Anything different."
"And I guess he is good looking enough," Krissy mused, pursing her lips.
"Gee, thanks, Krissy," Harvey said with a head shake. "I'd be flattered if I didn't know you thought that old dude was hot," he added, turning away to go fix the drink Marley apparently badly made for him as well.
"He means James Spader," Krissy explained.
"You know... Red from The Blacklist. It is the character, not the actor.
He's just... dreamy," she said, sighing as she pressed a hand to her heart.
"Anyway. That is a really interesting idea. You know... the kind you two should be discussing over dinner,” she said pointedly.
"Why are you still standing here holding that dress?
Go slip it on. Nixon here can join you. We'll cover our ears. Won't we, Harvey?"
"Whatever you said, probably not," Harvey said, walking back to his desk, dropping into his seat, and all but disappearing.
It was an interesting mash-up of personalities in this office, that was for sure.
"I'll be two minutes. Okay, five. I need to touch up my makeup too," she added, giving me that tight smile once again before turning and going into her office.
"She likes you," Krissy told me when we were alone.
"She barely knows me."
"I get that," Krissy agreed, uncharacteristically serious.
"But she likes you. It's not my place to say anything about how things have been for Reagan for a while, but the fact that she has any interest in you at all is saying something.
And I wanted you to know that. And also to know that if you take advantage of that, I will tie you to my bumper and drive through a cactus patch.
I don't even know if cactuses grow in patches, but I will find one. And I will drive you through it."
"Got it," I agreed, giving her a smile, appreciating the loyalty there. It was something I was lucky enough to have in my life, so I was glad for Reagan that she did as well.
"As for any other sort of taking advantage, well, you two have fun. Do you need some condoms? Lube?" she asked, pulling open her top desk drawer as she did so, reaching in to produce said items.
"I think I've got it covered, Krissy."
"You can never be too prepared… Oh!" she said, grabbing something. "I have a finger vibe! Still in the packaging."
"You keep sex toys in your desk at work?"
"I honestly don't remember getting this. Oh, you know, it might have been from that sex toy party thing I went to. Reagan picked me up and brought me here so I could get sick here instead of in her car."
“Solid thinking.”
"Vomit isn't easy to detail out."
"No," I agreed, "it is not."
"Personal experience?"
"I have younger brothers."
"Oh," she said, smile turning devilish once again. "Are they as hot as you are? Are they single?"
"You'd kill them, Krissy," I told her, not even exaggerating. She was a lot of woman. I didn't think they could handle her.
"Just as well," she said, tucking away the vibrator with a shrug. "What time is dinner?" she asked.
"At si.." I started, trailing off when I checked my watch. "Shit."
"Oh, no. Can't be late. Better go rush her along," Krissy said, likely thinking I had reservations, not that Helen had a shitfit when people were unexpectedly late.
Helen was not above refusing to serve you. And I wanted to eat.