Chapter Twenty
Does anyone actually work around here?
Ruby
“Will you stop kissing me?” I hiss, pushing Will’s hand – and its stupid Cupid puppet – away. “We’re at work. You know, where one is supposed to at least pretend to be professional? This is a multi-billion-dollar company and its CFO is playing with puppets in the hallway.”
“Liam won’t care,” he says, smacking the Cupid’s lips against me again. “I bought him one too.”
I come to a full stop. “You bought Liam Warrick, the Liam Warrick, a Cupid puppet with what I’m told are giant lips and a shirt that says ‘Kiss Me I’m Cupid’?” I ask, incredulous.
“Of course not,” he answers.
Relief flows through me, sweet and swift.
“I bought him a lamb puppet with mega fluffy wool and a shirt that says ‘Mad About Ewe’,” he continues.
My lungs cease to function.
“You did not,” I whisper, filled with foolish hope.
“I gave it to Brian when we got here. He’s delivering it later today.”
“We cannot let that puppet get to Mr. Warrick, Will. That’s… that’s so… you can’t do that .”
“Nah,” he says, grabbing my arm with his non-puppet hand. “Liam’ll love it. We’re twinsies. I know these things.”
This, shockingly, does not ease my distress.
He starts dragging me down the hall toward our offices.
“Seriously, Rubble. Don’t worry about it. If you like, I can walkie-talkie him to make sure he wants it.”
The noise that comes out of me is reminiscent of a cornered dog.
“You gave Mr. Warrick one of those walkie-talkies?” I screech. “Are you insane?”
“Maybe,” he answers, unconcerned. “But that doesn’t have much to do with the walkie-talkies, I don’t think. Liam loves them. Says they’re efficient. He uses his all the time. I even bedazzled it for him.”
I need to sit down. Immediately.
He bedazzled the walkie-talkie.
“Bedazzled like… bedazzled bedazzled?” I ask, hoping there is some other definition of the word than the one I know – one that would imply that Will glued tiny faux gems all over our boss’ walkie-talkie.
“What other kind of bedazzled is there?” Will responds.
I’m wheezing. I do not think any oxygen is making it to my brain. Surely not, because I think I just heard Will confirm that Mr. Warrick has on his desk at this moment a gem-covered walkie-talkie.
“I spent ages on it. Glued my fingers together in the process, but it was totally worth it. If you’re interested, I can do yours too! I could leave some negative space so that you can feel the design. Maybe a heart, to represent my love. Or I could write you a message in braille! Oh- oh- oh! What if-”
“Will!” I stop him, tugging my arm out of his grasp. I can hear Charlie and Clarise gabbing a few feet away, which means escape is near. “Do not bedazzle my walkie. Don’t even touch it. In fact, stay well away from my desk with any and all gems. Yes?”
“But, I-”
“Will!”
“Fine,” he pouts. “I’ll stay away from your desk.”
My brow furrows. “And everything else that belongs to me.”
A pause, long and loaded, fills the space between us.
“Will,” I warn.
“Oh, fine! No pretty sparkly secret messages for you,” he harrumphs.
I wonder if he is eight or twenty-eight.
“If you change your mind,” he offers, “You know where to find me.”
“Uh-huh,” I murmur, edging toward my office. “I’ll do just that.” Not.
“They have baby blue gems,” he tries. “Very pretty.”
“I’m going to work now,” I snip, entering my office. “Try not to get fired today.”
His laughter is cut off by the slam of my door.
What an idiot.