Chapter 2 #4
Lauren just held up the box. “A Yeti broke into my office and got water all over the place and I think he might be one of
the royals but he also might just have been a sarcastic bike messenger. Doughnut?”
“Who says no to a sugar rush?” Joy replied. “And yes, Americans aren’t that well-versed in sarcasm. He was probably just one
of the courier guys messing with you.” Joy picked up the glazed ring with a napkin and split it down the middle. Lauren gratefully
took her half.
“James acted like I brought anthrax to work, but look, this was all that was left,” she said. “So take that, James.”
“Mmm.” Joy chewed for a bit, her eyes rolling in enjoyment. “You do realize,” she said as she finished chewing, “it’ll take
more than these to win that lot over.”
Lauren sagged in her chair. “Probably.”
“Definitely,” Joy corrected her. “Still, can I request churros for your next gesture of goodwill?”
Lauren tittered, feeling some of the tension ease from her shoulders. She had missed this, sitting after hours with a work friend, gossiping and talking plans. It almost felt like home, and at this point in her life, that was no small thing.
“Maybe one of those big coffee urns from Starbucks,” Lauren said. “Or a cake for James’s birthday.”
Joy laughed. “Definitely,” she said. “With confetti and streamers, of course. Oh, by the way, I have something for you.” She
reached into her desk drawer and pulled out a package that she slid across her desk.
A pair of opaque black tights.
“I brought extra pairs to keep here,” Joy said, her voice less boisterous and a little bit kinder.
Lauren took the tights from her. “Eugene probably had HR email me about it,” she muttered.
“Eh, don’t worry about him,” Joy said, waving the thought away like a pesky fly. “I suspect he’s one of those that’s not great
with change. Most of them in places like this aren’t.”
“But he doesn’t hate you.”
“Yes, well, it’s probably bad form to outright hate the Black diversity ‘czar.’ But also, I know how to play the game. This
is not my first position like this. You’re just . . . oh, help me out, there’s probably a good American sports metaphor for
this.”
“Throwing a Hail Mary pass?”
Joy snapped her fingers. “Sure, that one, if you say so. You’ll learn, you’ll figure it out. And the next time you pass a
Marks and Spencer, you’ll stock up on tights. Make sure to get the ladder resist packs, though. Otherwise they’ll run in fifteen
minutes.”
Lauren took a deep breath, rubbing her temples with her fingers. “I just don’t want this to be a mistake,” she said. “Because
I can’t go back home. I just can’t.”
Joy was quiet. “Let me give a piece of advice,” she finally said.
“You know that saying about how you can catch more flies with honey than vinegar? Here, it’s the opposite.
You need to be a little sour, a little spiky, if you want to earn their respect.
More lemons, less lemonade. But that being said, you can always bring me sweets. My door is open to you.”
Lauren smiled. “You got it,” she said. “So how was your first day? What made you move here from Scotland Yard? That seems
like it would be a lot more exciting.”
“Sure,” Joy said. “Especially if you want to never have a decent night’s sleep or vacation for the rest of your life. I just
got back on the dating apps, and it’s hard not to look at every guy with suspicion, knowing what I know about people.”
“You’re single, too?” Lauren said.
“Divorced,” Joy replied. “Three years now. One kid, Theo. He’s eight and already campaigning for a phone. Which, ha, dream
on. One day you’ll be trying to figure out how to get rid of the thing.”
“It’s hard being a single mom,” Lauren said.
Joy raised an eyebrow in response. “You have a kid?”
“No, I was just raised by a single mom. My dad split when I was eight, so it was just her and me.”
“Ugh, what a bastard. And yes, it’s bloody hard. His dad and I are still good friends, we’re fifty-fifty parents . . .” Joy
trailed off with a shrug. “It’s not easy, but it’s easier than being married to the wrong person for the rest of my life,
I can tell you that. So do you plan on including all of this in the first press conference starring me?” Joy asked.
“I’m not sure yet,” Lauren said. “I’ll probably need something more scandalous, if I’m being honest. I feel like the press
here has high standards for drama.”
“Ha! I’m too busy trying to keep grown adults from drowning themselves in a racist lake.” Joy sighed, about to say something else, when the sounds of Eugene and James floated down the hall.
“It is a terrible idea, James!”
“Have you considered maybe loosening your waistcoat a bit, Eugene? That vein in your forehead is starting to get a bit too
prominent.”
“Fine, have it your way—”
“I will, thank you.”
“Enjoy burning the monarchy to the ground.”
“I will, thank you.”
“Will you please take this seriously, James?” Eugene said as the voices faded down the hall and behind a closed door.
Lauren and Joy looked at each other, waiting for the other to speak first.
“Do you sense—?” Lauren started to say.
“Incredible sexual tension,” Joy finished.
“Right?!” Lauren whisper-screamed.
“Do you remember Beauty and the Beast? It’s like Lumière and Cogsworth, but they’re going to bang,” Joy added, which made Lauren laugh harder than she had in a
long time. “I’m just saying!”
“Well, good, maybe it’ll keep Eugene from trying to manifest failure for the press briefings.”
“Speaking of!” Joy said. “Go get your laptop and let’s brainstorm a few things. Can’t have you ruining my big debut with all
your fanciful American ideas.”
Lauren grinned, then dashed off to grab her computer.
It was the first time in months that Lauren had been grateful to work late into the night.