2. Pippi #2
Sorry, Andy . I cringed as I set my cell on the desk. I tried.
“And where the fuck was Andy, huh?” Jessa fumed an hour later as she shoved her laptop into her creamy leather bag.
“Nowhere.” She waved her arm at the glass wall on our right—the PM offices.
The big, lofty square rooms concealed behind old, discolored and half bent venetian blinds, which all the PMs kept drawn—they didn’t want us low lifes peeping at them.
Andy’s door was open, though, and the room was dark. Had been all day.
“It was a stressful day for him too, Jessa,” I pointed out.
And, stars, I’d never been so grateful to see that clock hit 5:00 p.m.
My hands were still shaking.
Big ole tacky patches of sweat still clung to my blouse, mainly around my armpits and the small of my back, where the stress pool usually rolled to. Thankfully the blouse was navy blue cotton with big billowy sleeves that hid the worst of the moisture.
No one liked being yelled at. No one. It was an awful feeling, getting all pretzeled with guilt, having to stammer agreements that you were a dunce, and muttering apologies for a screw up you didn’t even commit.
“Stressful. Sure .” Jessa sniffed and peered over her cubicle at me, watching as my jittering hands wrestled to fit my laptop into the infuriatingly narrow slot in my messenger bag.
“I betcha last week’s paycheck Andy turned his phone off, took the boys out for a drink, and ain’t feeling one iota of stress about what just happened.
He ain’t gonna take any flack for it, is he? ”
“He’s gotten an earful. I’m sure.” The laptop made a satisfying swish when it slid into place. I flipped the top of the bag over, not bothering to buckle it. Wasn’t worth the effort of steadying my hands.
“Oh, he got an earful alright.” Kai poked his nose over, beaming at us. “Y’all didn’t hear Frank this morning.”
“You mean our esteemed leader who was”—Jessa threw some air quotes up—“ ‘on calls’ from 8:00 a.m. to when he ducked out after lunch?”
“Uh-huh. That’s the one. See, this is what happens when you ladies are late on the daily.”
“We start at 8:00 a.m. and we clock in at 8:00 a.m.,” Jessa huffed, “that ain’t late .”
“Listen, I’d rather handle the worst of the early morning freak outs from the comfort of my bed,” I said, “and then mosey in at my own speed.”
“You should not be answering emails at the ass crack of dawn.” Contempt rippled off Jessa as she rolled her eyes at me. Not contempt at me . But at my actions.
“It makes my day a whole heck of a lot easier.” I swiped my still-sweaty hands on my jeans. “Usually.”
“Eh-hem,” Kai cleared his throat. “ As I was sayin g, if you had been here at an appropriate time, you would’ve seen Frank explode.
Happened at 7:45 a.m. When you were probably still sleeping.
” Kai pointed at Jessa. Then he laughed and ducked when Jessa winged a pen at his head.
“He got right in Andy’s face with it,” Kai continued.
“I thought Andy was gonna piss himself. That’s why he hasn’t been back to his desk all day. ”
“Hmmmm…nnno.” Jessa dragged the n of the no between her teeth. “The dude gets yelled at a bit but dumps the rest of the blame off on Pips? Nope. He still got off too easy.”
Kai rolled his shoulders. “Not saying he didn’t. Just saying he got shit-sprayed too.”
“You’re being a little harsh, Jessa,” I said gently. “He rushed the job, sure, but it’s not like he shoved faulty work orders through. Everything on our end was right. A mistake happened on the floor, as it does on occasion. That’s all.”
“And honestly…” Kai drummed his fingers against the top of the cubicle wall, and a rush of warm, comforting feelings extruded from him as he flashed a sideways smile. “If SorcerSoft was still around, they could’ve bailed him out. I never had a fourteen week lead with them.”
“Yeah, I was thinking that earlier. They were always so good in a pinch,” I said. “And, stars, do I miss those days.”
“No comment. I ain’t been in this prison as long as you two.” Jessa grinned playfully. “So I’ve never worked with them.”
“A shame.” Kai laughed. “They were the best .”
“They really were. Quick to respond. Super friendly. Their stuff was always quality too.” I pursed my lips. “They were too good. Probably why they went belly up.”
“Probably. We can’t let the good guys roll in this wild world of ours. Anyway”—Kai hefted his laptop bag onto his shoulder—“shall I walk you ladies to your cars?”
“But of course.” Jessa fluttered her eyes and reached across the wall to brush his knuckles.
“Us ladies would never manage the five-minute walk without a big, strapping gentleman to protect us,” I teased.
Kai grinned and stepped away from his desk, rounding the wall to hook his arm around Jessa, and then hauling her to my cubicle, so he could scoop his other arm around me.
“My motivations are hardly decent ,” he said with a fake posh accent.
“I simply want to look distinguished with two of the finest ladies in the office on my arm.”
“I think you need to lay off the Bridgerton binges, Kai.” I giggled, hoping he couldn’t feel how clammy and damp my sweaty swamp arm was.
“Never!” Kai declared.
It was, truly, a five-minute walk: straight out the side door, down a set of chipped and stained concrete steps, and across the black asphalt parking lot to our cars.
“Oh look!” Jessa squealed once we’d stepped outside. “ Sunlight. Halle-freaking-lujah.”
She’d said this every day this week.
And every day Kai and I hummed in agreement.
There was something magical about those first few days of spring, when we left work and found the parking lot bathed in warm, late afternoon sun, instead of the harsh, artificial illumination from the light poles.
“Oh, suck it all, I remember now!” Kai started.
Jessa and I both looked at him in confusion.
“I wanted to tell you something earlier, Pips.” He wriggled his arm free of mine, springing his keys from his jeans pocket. “Lemme get my car started first…to make sure the POS actually starts.”
He punched his clicker.
At the end of the row, his silver SUV blared in annoyance and then the engine gave a creaky grumble as it turned over.
“Abracadabra!” He waved his arm in a showman’s style. “It’s magic .”
“Oh, golly gee. You’re a Sorcerer? And you never told me?” Jessa poked him playfully.
Kai wiggled his fingers. “Wait ‘til you see the spells I can cast with a keyboard. But as I was saying, about that whole VitalTech fiasco…I don’t know if this’ll make you feel better or worse, Pips, but I don’t think us messing this order up is gonna make one iota of difference to their bottom line. They were already in boiling water.”
“VitalTech is?” I asked.
“Yepper. And I’m guessing by your blank faces,” Kai added, “that neither of you read the news bulletins?”
“Why would we?” Jessa mumbled.
“Insider information.” Kai said.
“I think you’re the only one who cares about that, Kai.” I squeezed his arm.
“Maybe you should care.” Kai harrumphed. “See, we started talking about how SorcerSoft went belly up, and it made me think of the news bulletin from the other day. Magix is coming for places like VitalTech too.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Nope.” He popped the p. “They’re claiming the technology is insidious . Causing more harm to people than good. Like, go-in-with-a-broken-arm,-get-an-X-ray-and-come-out-with-terminal-cancer kinda claims.”
“That,” Jessa and I said, almost in unison, “is horseshit .”
“But that’s what happens when the Standies take money outta the Sorcerers’ pockets.”
“So that’s the claim they’re making? That people should pay three times as much to hire a Sorcerer?” I asked.
“Yepper.”
“Unbelievable.”
“Looks like it’s gonna go to court. There’s a sparkling new lawsuit.”
“Well heavens. No wonder Mr. Hollingdale went full Oscar the Grouch.” I blew out a breath. “Poor man. He was getting hammered by bad news on all ends, wasn’t he?”
Standies were people like me, Kai, Jessa, and Andy, and probably Mr. Hollingdale. Normal folk. Hapless, some would say. People without an ounce of magic in their veins.
Sorcerers were the magic folk—the extraordinary. People who never had a care in the world because nothing in the world was inaccessible to them. Humans who were above technology.
Technology, after all, was for the Standies—to give us a sprinkle of magic. A taste of what it could be like. And some Sorcerers didn’t even like us having that. It made us too independent for their tastes.
“He still shouldn’t have yelled at you”—Jessa broke away, skipping over to the door of her car—“and I would’ve told him as much. No matter what he’s got going on, ain’t no excuse to take it out on you.”
“The poor man was probably wound so tight, a hairpin would’ve snapped him. And I dropped a bomb on his head.”
Jessa waggled her key in my face. “You’re too damn nice, Pips. That’s your problem. You can’t keep making excuses when people hurt you. Sometimes people are just buckets of shit who need to be chucked in the sewer.”
Chirp. Chirp. Chirp.
“Oh, shoot!” The chirping of my cell phone had me jumping.
“See? He’s got you so worked up, you’re spooked at your own phone!” Jessa cried.
“I think I accidentally flipped it off silent,” I said. “When do you ever hear my phone ring?”
Jessa sighed, conceding.
I shuffled the last few feet to my car and wrestled my phone out of my bag’s front pocket. Seeing that text splashed across the screen after the afternoon I’d had…well, it was a bit like getting a juicy, extra chocolate-y cake at the end of a subpar dinner.
I grinned.
Jackson (my longtime boyfriend): How was your day? Mine was C.R.A.Z.Y. But I can’t wait ‘til I get home. Or until you get home…I’ll race ya! Because I’ve got a surprise for you, babe. A big ‘un.