Hard to imagine someone so warm and fuzzy doesn’t just snuggle right up like a big ol’ baby.
He likes his half of the bed. But we have held each other until I sleep. When I wake up, he’s always holding my hand. Often with our feet braided together.
I think that means more.
Day of Employment:
389
8:03 a.m.
*
Clothes
: Favorite electric blue sweater and coordinating skirt.
*
Hair
: Down and untamed.
*
PA Desk
: Empty.
*
Cactus
: Dry. At home on my old desk.
MADELINE IS LEANING over my cubicle wall. She wants answers. Explanations. Details.
Rebecca is not much different. She’s sitting on the edge of my desk, arms folded, looking rather terse. I was not prepared for her to be so upset about my quitting the PA position.
“I suppose you expect a raise for lasting a week.” Rebecca huffs and crosses her arms. She’s clearly miffed, but exaggerating and not truly, truly mad.
I continue to arrange my stuff. Stapler by monitor. Pens and highlighters in upper left drawer. “That was the offer you made.”
“I think it’s amazing you lasted a week, Emma,” Madeline says. “Bert came closest, but he never said you’d quit. I almost can’t believe the day has come when I get to pay-out the special pot.”
I’d almost forgotten about the side bet for a PA who left without tears.
“Um, I didn’t earn that,” I say over the rapidly forming lump in my throat. I choke it back. There is no way this is going to show at work.
Both are silent for a moment. Rebecca unfolds her arms and places a hand on mine. “Really? I didn’t mean to give you a hard time…I just thought you got fed up with him jerking you around.”
“I’m fine. It was just an emotional moment when I gave up.” I smile quickly at them both and focus back on putting things away. “Just trying to be honest.”
I would like a raise even if I’m only working here until graduation. I’m almost relieved I didn’t go the month and wind up being offered a promotion. “I did still earn the raise though,” I say and look pointedly at Rebecca. Pay up. I owned that position.
And a few others.
“Yes, fine. I suppose you did.” She huffs. Her reaction is off somehow. I look at her with what I assume is apparent confusion.
She rolls her eyes slightly. “Never mind me. I’m just mad that I finally found a PA for myself that I like, and now I’m told that it is more important that Mr. Canon have an assistant immediately. So I’m without again.”
“You can always take back what’s left of them when Canon fires them,” Madeline says, moving back to her desk to gather the winnings from the traditional bet. I have technically won since no one guessed that I would not end up fired.
Rebecca nods thoughtfully and stands to leave. Then she sits back against my desk with a thud.
“Rebecca.” Canon’s voice fills the floor. I feel my eyes go wide.
“Good morning.” Rebecca nearly covers her surprise. “I take it your trip went well.”
“Yes,” he says dismissively. “Ms. Baker, I will see you in the break room at noon.”
Turning, I nearly beam when I see him standing there, imposing and somewhat larger-than-life. His face alters ever so slightly, a hint of smile cracks at the corners. He taps the top of the cubicle wall twice and leaves.
“What was that?” Rebecca asks, her voice higher with each word. Madeline has materialized back at my desk. I cannot hear a single keyboard click.
I shrug and smile. It is best to just get things out in the open. Less time expended on speculation.
“That?” I move to watch him walk away. I watch him because I can and because I want to and because he is beautiful in ways that I’m just discovering even after a year of studying him for other reasons. “That was my boyfriend.”
Rebecca looks surprisingly self-satisfied.
Madeline’s mouth drops as well as the envelope of cash.
I bend and pick it up. They both give me their own versions of a you-are-so-telling-me-everything-later-in-private look.
The envelope quietly finds its way to Bert’s desk.
12:03 p.m.
*
Location
: Break room.
*
Lunch
: Cobb salad. Chicken and rice soup. Cut tropical fruit (which I plan to share).
*
Madeline
: Bemused. Trying to see Canon as human.
*
Bert
: Confused. But $347 richer.
*
Rebecca
: Pleased. She had a plan.
*
New PA:
Familiar. Very familiar.
*
Canon
: Late.
WHEN HE ROUNDS THE CORNER, the atmosphere changes. The break room’s unusually quiet; people move softly, trying to hear. To understand.
His suit and starched shirt also looks very incongruous among the plastic chairs and microwave dinners.
“You are late,” I say and kick an empty chair out from under the table for him. “You should endeavor to attend future lunch meetings more promptly.”
Smiling, he shakes his head, then opens up what looks to be a freshly delivered, hot sandwich.
“Did you have trouble finding me? Already lose your edge tracking my moves?” I tease.
“Oh, yes.” He snorts. “I stalk you.”
“I stalk you right back.”
We begin eating. After a moment, I nudge the fruit toward him.
“You are nothing if not persistent.” He looks from the cup to me.
“It’s up to you,” I sing-song.
“I will have you know there is probably less pineapple at your average luau than in my system at this moment.” His voice is flat, the straight man to our comedic duo.
I smile victoriously. It’s still fun to fluster, to influence him.
I move on to soup just as a familiar form appears near our table. “The report from Rowe is on your desk, sir.”
Alaric swallows but doesn’t turn. “Was I not clear to bring it to me as soon as it arrives?”
“Yes, sir,” he barks and doesn’t tread lightly on the sarcasm. “You were at your desk when you said that, so I took it to your desk.”
“I am not my desk. It does me no good on my desk.” He sets his sandwich down and turns to face his new PA.
“You also gave the distinct impression you did not wish to be disturbed at lunch.” He looks to me quickly.
“Mr. LaCygne, I believe you know Ms. Baker,” Canon introduces us without elaboration.
“This is a pleasant surprise,” I say, taking the hand he has offered. I note that he has a daunting presence and demeanor even in servile mode. This may work.
“You will learn soon enough to do what he says, when he says it, even if it doesn’t make sense.” I offer my tried-and-true advice.
Canon returns to his sandwich.
“Thank you,” LaCygne says genuinely. “Logic is a hard thing to abandon.” With that, he’s gone.
“Insolent little…” Canon grumbles.
“Not working out already?” That is too bad. He seemed feisty.
“Perhaps I shouldn’t elaborate. It would give you an unfair advantage in the latest betting pool.”
“I’m already excluded. Some unfortunate nonsense about ‘insider information.’”
“Oh, however will you support your shoe habit?”
“You like my shoes?” I smile up at him and brush my pump against his calf discreetly.
He swallows. “I believe you are well aware how very much, and as I demonstrated for you yet again last night to what great extent I appreciate your shoes.” He takes another bite to hide his grin.