Chapter 12 #2
“How can you allow this on the floor, Wil?” the woman asks. “The bottom corner is so mangled it doesn’t even sit level. I can only imagine how it got damaged in the first place.”
A muscle in Wil’s jaw twitches. Oh, god, I know that look. He’s pissed. He’s going to blow. He cannot lose his temper in front of the CEO, even if it is his dad.
“I’ll talk to Aurora about it—”
I cut him off. “Hi.” I put my hand up in an awkward wave.
The woman whirls around to face me and places her hands on her hips.
I give her my biggest, brightest smile. “That particular mass display arrived damaged. In fact, the bottom piece was basically destroyed. We repaired it the best we could with another piece of cardboard and packing tape, in a way that wouldn’t be immediately visible. ”
“Who’s this?” she asks. She looks at Wil instead of acknowledging me or my explanation.
“Abbey,” Wil says, “our new ATC. Rhodes, this is Kelsey Schmidt, my sister.”
His sister! She radiates complete bitch. This family is something else.
“I don’t see how that’s relevant,” Kelsey says with a sniff.
I tip my head and scrutinize her hair and face and expressions, trying to find something of Wil.
Like their father, she’s pale, and I’ll bet if I look closely enough, I’ll find freckles under all that foundation, concealer, and bronzer.
I’d also bet that those glistening, golden waves come with a hefty price tag and a trip to the salon every six weeks.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” I hold out my hand, but she ignores it.
“New ATC,” she says as she flips her perfect hair over her shoulder.
“If you’re new, Abbey, perhaps you’re not aware of the process, although your team captain or manager should have explained it to you.
When displays arrive damaged, you must send an email immediately so that I can order a replacement, although I would prefer if the team captain, not the assistant, sent it.
” Her tone is smug, condescending, and filled with italics.
She sniffs again, like she’s discovered dog poo on the bottom of her clunky-heeled shoe.
If I’m the dog poo in this scenario, she’s got another thing coming. Not today, sweetheart. I don’t care whose daughter or sister you are—I work my ass off for this company for pennies, and you’re not going to talk to me like that. Empowered women empower women, remember?
I smile broadly. “I am aware, thank you.” My words drip with saccharine sweetness.
I’m like a can of Diet RC that’s been dropped, rolled across the floor, and is about to fizz over.
I italicize like her. For emphasis. “I did email you before we even attempted the repair. In fact, it was the very first email I sent as ATC, as Aurora was off that day, and I didn’t think something of such a critical nature should wait.
I spoke with my manager about it, and he agreed. ”
Kelsey reaches into her camel-colored Coach satchel and pulls out a Palm Pilot digital organizer. “I don’t recall seeing an email about this.”
“Maybe you should check again,” Wil says.
“That’s what I’m doing,” she snaps. “What day did you send it?”
Wil looks at me, his left eyebrow raised slightly.
“The display arrived last Tuesday. New release Tuesday,” I stress.
“I remember exactly, because of course we had so much new product to get out to the floor, and then we had to deal with this, too. Really inconvenient, as you can imagine. I almost missed clocking out for my lunch break, which, as I’m sure you know, is against labor laws. ” I smile again.
Wil makes a strangled noise in his throat. His father sighs. One of the other women takes a compact and lipstick out of her purse for a touch-up, then turns to Wil and gives him a simpering smile. He looks away.
“Ah,” Kelsey says. “Here it is. I must have missed it.”
“You don’t say,” Wil says dryly, and I can only imagine what their sibling spats must have been like growing up.
“Last Tuesday was extremely busy,” Kelsey says sharply, but her cheeks color slightly.
“Every Tuesday is extremely busy,” Mr. Wilshire says, exasperated. “Every day is extremely busy. That’s not an excuse. When you see an email with this store number, Kelsey—everyone—you open it immediately and resolve the situation. We’ve been over this.”
At her father’s words, the pink in Kelsey’s cheeks darkens, but to her credit, she straightens her spine and shoulders and says, “My mistake. It won’t happen again.
” She does not apologize, I notice, and that’s admirable, too.
I almost feel guilty for making the situation worse.
Almost. “I’ll email the vendor and get a replacement sent immediately,” she says.
“Excellent,” Mr. Wilshire says. “Good to meet you, Aurora.”
It’s all I can do to not roll my eyes. “It’s Abbey,” I say but he’s already walking away.
Beside me, Wil gives an almost imperceptible shake of his head.
Then a very tall, very bald, slender white man steps forward and extends his hand.
He’s the only one in the entourage not in dress pants; instead, he wears ripped jeans and black Chuck Taylors that somehow still look exactly right with his stodgy Hometown polo.
“I’m Felix,” he says. “You’re Abbey. Not Aurora.”
“That’s right,” I shake his hand. “Abbey Rhodes.”
“I’ve heard good things about you,” he says.
“Abbey’s a natural,” Wil says. “We’re lucky to have her.”
The fondness and pride in his tone startles me, and I can’t help but smile a little. I’m proud of myself, too.
“Typically, I’d have Wil wait to go over the eval results with Aurora, but why don’t we walk the department and have a chat now?” Felix asks.
Kelsey tucks her Palm Pilot back into her handbag. “We’ll go ahead to the next store, Felix. Don’t be too long.” She strides toward the front door without saying goodbye. The woman with the lipstick gives Wil another long look and bites her maroon-stained bottom lip.
Go away, I think. He’s mine.
If only.
I rub the back of my neck, suddenly aware of the tightness and tension there. He’s the furthest thing from mine, but something in me feels ragey and jealous, like I want these people to leave us alone—me and the department and especially Wil.
As we walk the different sections of media, Felix explains what the team looks for during the eval.
We scored a 94. Damn right we did, and I can’t say that I’m not irritated about the points we lost. We all busted our asses for weeks for that score, even Kevin.
Wil’s got a copy of the final report on his clipboard and every now and then, he looks down at it and smiles.
“This is the highest number we’ve seen from this department in a couple of years,” Felix says. “Wil thinks that has something to do with you, Abbey.”
That’s the first I’ve heard of it. “Why me?”
Wil clears his throat and doesn’t look at me when he says, “Your attention to detail. Determination. When something’s not right, you want to fix it, and if there isn’t an easy resolution, you find a way.
You’re a problem solver. You want to make things better for the team, for the fans.
You did that even before you got promoted.
” He rattles these things off like he’s said them before.
“Aurora, on the other hand, is more… laid back.”
The way he says this makes me think not being laid back isn’t a compliment. “Are you calling me uptight?” I ask with slightly more aggression than intended. Felix chuckles under his breath.
“No, I’m not calling you uptight,” Wil says. “How in the world did you arrive at that?”
“You’re basically saying I’m the opposite of Aurora, who is laid back. The opposite of laid back is uptight.”
“I didn’t say you were the opposite of Aurora.”
“You implied it,” I retort.
“You inferred it,” he volleys back.
“I can only infer if you imply!”
Now Felix laughs more loudly. “Do you two always argue like this?”
“Of course not!” I cry at the same time Wil mutters, “You can’t argue with someone who’s avoiding you.”
That stops me in my tracks. He’s noticed. But Felix must not hear him, or it doesn’t register, because he laughs again. “You can hash this out later. I’ve got to catch up with the team. Abbey, it’s been a pleasure. Great work.”
“Thank you.” I bob a little curtsy.
“Go easy on her, Wil,” Felix says. “We don’t want you scaring her off so she takes her talents to Best Buy.”
“Don’t give her any ideas,” Wil grumbles. “I’ll walk you up.”
I follow them as far as the media desk, where I sign on to the email system. I huff out a laugh when I see that Kelsey has replied to my email from last week. She spelled my name incorrectly, but I’ll have a new display hand-delivered by close of business.
A fancy leather notebook with an embossed Hometown logo sits on the desk next to the monitor.
I hurry to the Dugout to see if I can catch Felix but stop short.
Wil and Felix and Mr. Wilshire stand in front of the Performance Center.
Wil’s dad looks like he’s about to rupture a blood vessel.
He gestures wildly and then points at Wil, his finger poking him in the chest repeatedly.
What the hell?
Felix takes a step back, but Wil stands there with his arms crossed and takes it. He doesn’t respond or interrupt. He lets his father unleash and, when he finally wraps up his temper tantrum, Wil nods, turns, and disappears into the computer department.
Wow. That was… unreal. Unprofessional. My parents would never berate me like that in public, or even privately. My chest feels tight and I consider following Wil to see if he’s okay.
Which he would hate, of course. But then I remember I’ve got you, I’m always here. I could be there for him, too.