tomorrow?” I wasn’t upset about the Callahan Errand taking up so much energy; I was upset G had just ordered me to hightail it away from another Errand. In my book, that was unacceptable.
We remained in business because of our reputation, and if word got around that we were ditching out on Errands, the Eves would go from dining on filet one week to ramen the next. I’d dined on enough ramen in my lifetime to put an entire college to shame.
“Mr. Callahan is still expected to be out of the country until the day after tomorrow. Right now, my concerns aren’t about him directly.”
“Would you care to share your concerns with the Eve you’ve assigned to the Errand?”
G stayed silent long enough for me to know I was deep into faux pas territory. As rule, her Eves did what she said, no questions asked. She said march, and we didn’t stop until she said so. She said wag your tail, and we faked it until we made it. The only reasons I could get away with testing that rule were because I was one of her favorites and I was assigned to the biggest Errand to ever fall into her lap.
“No, I wouldn’t care to share my concerns with you at all,” she started. I could feel her glare through the phone. “But since I know you’re going to make this hard on me until I tell you, I’ll get it out of the way.”
I would have thanked her if I wasn’t positive it would have only pissed her off more.
“I’ve heard through what you might call the grapevine that Mrs. Callahan is shopping other I Clause agencies. She doesn’t care who or how someone lures her husband into bed, just as long as it’s soon.”
“Whoa, G, hold your I Clause horses.” I got up to pour myself a glass of wine. From the sounds of it, alcohol was a good idea. “Did you just say other agencies? As in agencies like the Eves?”
Two long seconds of silence, and then, “Precisely like, other than the name.”
Good thing the wine glass was big, because I just kept pouring. “How long have you known about these other agencies?”
“Sweetpea, what do you think gave me the brilliant idea to get into this line of business? I didn’t wake up with this brilliant plan to bring the philandering husbands of the United States to their financial knees.”
I don’t know what it was, or that it was intelligible, but something must have come out of my mouth because G kept going.
“I’m a business woman, Eve. Not an inventor. I took something I knew was already on the market and made it better. Plain and simple. Did you really think we were the only ones out there doing something like this? You and I both know there are enough cheating bastards out there with wedding bands on their fingers that ten thousand women could be working simultaneous Errands, and we’d still be understaffed.”
I suddenly felt rather stupid. Like a naive little girl. I’d always assumed that we Eves were the only ones because . . . well . . . because we were the only ones. Who else would be up to the task of dealing with the world’s filth?
Apparently, according to G, there were plenty of us willing to deal with the filth. Even I wasn’t naive enough to believe that was all due to the ultimate payout and not to the actual job details. “I guess I never even considered it . . .”
“That’s fine. Your job isn’t to consider it; that’s mine. Your job is to do what you’ve been trained to do, what you know you need to do, and what I tell you to do.” G exhaled slowly. “How about a little more doing and a little less considering?”
“So what exactly would you like me to do if another Eve”—I had no idea what to call the girls who worked for those other agencies—“has been assigned to Mr. Callahan? Stick my tongue out at her? Pull out her recent weave? Compare breast size?” I cut it short only because I knew I was past pressing it with G. Long past.
“No, I want you to show her what she’s up against. I want you to prove that you are so far superior to
We remained in business because of our reputation, and if word got around that we were ditching out on Errands, the Eves would go from dining on filet one week to ramen the next. I’d dined on enough ramen in my lifetime to put an entire college to shame.
“Mr. Callahan is still expected to be out of the country until the day after tomorrow. Right now, my concerns aren’t about him directly.”
“Would you care to share your concerns with the Eve you’ve assigned to the Errand?”
G stayed silent long enough for me to know I was deep into faux pas territory. As rule, her Eves did what she said, no questions asked. She said march, and we didn’t stop until she said so. She said wag your tail, and we faked it until we made it. The only reasons I could get away with testing that rule were because I was one of her favorites and I was assigned to the biggest Errand to ever fall into her lap.
“No, I wouldn’t care to share my concerns with you at all,” she started. I could feel her glare through the phone. “But since I know you’re going to make this hard on me until I tell you, I’ll get it out of the way.”
I would have thanked her if I wasn’t positive it would have only pissed her off more.
“I’ve heard through what you might call the grapevine that Mrs. Callahan is shopping other I Clause agencies. She doesn’t care who or how someone lures her husband into bed, just as long as it’s soon.”
“Whoa, G, hold your I Clause horses.” I got up to pour myself a glass of wine. From the sounds of it, alcohol was a good idea. “Did you just say other agencies? As in agencies like the Eves?”
Two long seconds of silence, and then, “Precisely like, other than the name.”
Good thing the wine glass was big, because I just kept pouring. “How long have you known about these other agencies?”
“Sweetpea, what do you think gave me the brilliant idea to get into this line of business? I didn’t wake up with this brilliant plan to bring the philandering husbands of the United States to their financial knees.”
I don’t know what it was, or that it was intelligible, but something must have come out of my mouth because G kept going.
“I’m a business woman, Eve. Not an inventor. I took something I knew was already on the market and made it better. Plain and simple. Did you really think we were the only ones out there doing something like this? You and I both know there are enough cheating bastards out there with wedding bands on their fingers that ten thousand women could be working simultaneous Errands, and we’d still be understaffed.”
I suddenly felt rather stupid. Like a naive little girl. I’d always assumed that we Eves were the only ones because . . . well . . . because we were the only ones. Who else would be up to the task of dealing with the world’s filth?
Apparently, according to G, there were plenty of us willing to deal with the filth. Even I wasn’t naive enough to believe that was all due to the ultimate payout and not to the actual job details. “I guess I never even considered it . . .”
“That’s fine. Your job isn’t to consider it; that’s mine. Your job is to do what you’ve been trained to do, what you know you need to do, and what I tell you to do.” G exhaled slowly. “How about a little more doing and a little less considering?”
“So what exactly would you like me to do if another Eve”—I had no idea what to call the girls who worked for those other agencies—“has been assigned to Mr. Callahan? Stick my tongue out at her? Pull out her recent weave? Compare breast size?” I cut it short only because I knew I was past pressing it with G. Long past.
“No, I want you to show her what she’s up against. I want you to prove that you are so far superior to
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