rat’s patoot, but she stopped. They both knew he might
zap into a bed at any time. He’d already zapped into a bed in a department
store and the back seat of a junked Camry, to name two. He couldn’t afford to
stray far from her side, and she couldn’t afford to let him go places where
retrieving him could be embarrassing.
So he stayed
with her, or he stayed home, or sometimes Clay babysat him.
And Randy
hated it, which was reasonable.
“We’ll get you
a real job soon. I promise.”
She threw on
the navy polyester pants but compromised on the top: a white lace-edged cami
layered under one of those drapey scoop-necked tops that look so demure in Lane
Bryant until you get them on a woman with major boobs. Also, the scoop top was
red. She felt like all she needed was a scarf with stars on it and she could be
a walking tribute to the American flag.
He called
after her. “I thought you wanted to see my pay-to-read click-bot.” He looked
like a hound dog watching Mom get ready for work, knowing he would be left
alone all day.
With her hand
on the doorknob, she said guiltily, “I’m sorry. I just don’t have time right
now.”
She shut the
door before he could make her melt.
The Baysdorter
Boncil office was humming. Girls whispered over the mahogany rails of their
corrals. Girls whispered over the coffeepot and the copy machine.
Jewel found
her way to her corral.
Sharisse met
her there and handed her a bulging folder. “Steven will be back after lunch. He
left this stuff to go into the lease package spreadsheet. Remember how I showed
you?”
“Yeah, yeah.
What makes you think I’m, uh—”
Sharisse
rolled her eyes. “Oh, please,” she said, lowering her voice. “We all know
you’re from the EEOC, investigating what happens to Steven’s girls. Believe me,
we’re rooting for you.”
What happens to Steven’s girls? That was a whole new wrinkle. Jewel
frowned. “I’m not—”
“Shh, here
comes my boss. I’m being Maida today. Let’s talk at lunch.”
“Sure.”
Jewel’s
morning passed frustratingly slowly. She typed stuff into spreadsheets. She
answered Steven’s phone. Girls walked by and smiled at her, or looked curiously
at her, but nobody stopped to talk. Dammit
to hell, I’ve been made. Nobody wants to be seen with me. She was ready to
give up the whole undercover thing as a waste of time and go back to the pocket
zone crisis, when Sharisse collected her and took her downstairs to the noisy
grillroom for lunch. They were joined by two other BB office girls.
The Bennigan’s
was jammed. Daringly, Jewel ordered a pitcher of sangria. The girls giggled,
but they filled their glasses.
Geri, a
striking brunette with a street-smart air, reported all the current rumors
about Jewel. “One, they think you’re a cop, cracking down on harassment on the
job. Two, you came in after the orgy as an excuse to catch Steven in the act.”
“Three,” Tonia
said, brushing her straight black hair away from her face with long,
elaborately-painted fingernails, “you came in because of what happened to
Maida’s daughter.”
“What?” Interesting that Maida hadn’t
mentioned that.
“You didn’t
know?” Geri leaned forward. “It happened almost two years ago. Maida’s daughter
worked for Steven for maybe a month, and they did not get along.”
“She didn’t
understand the deal,” Sharisse said.
“Who didn’t
understand what deal?” Jewel said. She slurped some sangria and the other girls
drank, too. Tongue loosener did not seem all that necessary. They were dying to
dish.
Sharisse said,
“Lena, Maida’s daughter? Apparently she didn’t know that old John Baysdorter
was sleeping with Maida.”
Jewel’s jaw
dropped. “Our Maida? See-no-evil, hear-no-evil, speak-no-evil Maida?”
“Yeah,” Tonia
said. “For, like, twenty-plus years. Maida could have been a partner herself if
she’d of had cojones. But she didn’t have the education, so she’s stuck at
office manager
zap into a bed at any time. He’d already zapped into a bed in a department
store and the back seat of a junked Camry, to name two. He couldn’t afford to
stray far from her side, and she couldn’t afford to let him go places where
retrieving him could be embarrassing.
So he stayed
with her, or he stayed home, or sometimes Clay babysat him.
And Randy
hated it, which was reasonable.
“We’ll get you
a real job soon. I promise.”
She threw on
the navy polyester pants but compromised on the top: a white lace-edged cami
layered under one of those drapey scoop-necked tops that look so demure in Lane
Bryant until you get them on a woman with major boobs. Also, the scoop top was
red. She felt like all she needed was a scarf with stars on it and she could be
a walking tribute to the American flag.
He called
after her. “I thought you wanted to see my pay-to-read click-bot.” He looked
like a hound dog watching Mom get ready for work, knowing he would be left
alone all day.
With her hand
on the doorknob, she said guiltily, “I’m sorry. I just don’t have time right
now.”
She shut the
door before he could make her melt.
The Baysdorter
Boncil office was humming. Girls whispered over the mahogany rails of their
corrals. Girls whispered over the coffeepot and the copy machine.
Jewel found
her way to her corral.
Sharisse met
her there and handed her a bulging folder. “Steven will be back after lunch. He
left this stuff to go into the lease package spreadsheet. Remember how I showed
you?”
“Yeah, yeah.
What makes you think I’m, uh—”
Sharisse
rolled her eyes. “Oh, please,” she said, lowering her voice. “We all know
you’re from the EEOC, investigating what happens to Steven’s girls. Believe me,
we’re rooting for you.”
What happens to Steven’s girls? That was a whole new wrinkle. Jewel
frowned. “I’m not—”
“Shh, here
comes my boss. I’m being Maida today. Let’s talk at lunch.”
“Sure.”
Jewel’s
morning passed frustratingly slowly. She typed stuff into spreadsheets. She
answered Steven’s phone. Girls walked by and smiled at her, or looked curiously
at her, but nobody stopped to talk. Dammit
to hell, I’ve been made. Nobody wants to be seen with me. She was ready to
give up the whole undercover thing as a waste of time and go back to the pocket
zone crisis, when Sharisse collected her and took her downstairs to the noisy
grillroom for lunch. They were joined by two other BB office girls.
The Bennigan’s
was jammed. Daringly, Jewel ordered a pitcher of sangria. The girls giggled,
but they filled their glasses.
Geri, a
striking brunette with a street-smart air, reported all the current rumors
about Jewel. “One, they think you’re a cop, cracking down on harassment on the
job. Two, you came in after the orgy as an excuse to catch Steven in the act.”
“Three,” Tonia
said, brushing her straight black hair away from her face with long,
elaborately-painted fingernails, “you came in because of what happened to
Maida’s daughter.”
“What?” Interesting that Maida hadn’t
mentioned that.
“You didn’t
know?” Geri leaned forward. “It happened almost two years ago. Maida’s daughter
worked for Steven for maybe a month, and they did not get along.”
“She didn’t
understand the deal,” Sharisse said.
“Who didn’t
understand what deal?” Jewel said. She slurped some sangria and the other girls
drank, too. Tongue loosener did not seem all that necessary. They were dying to
dish.
Sharisse said,
“Lena, Maida’s daughter? Apparently she didn’t know that old John Baysdorter
was sleeping with Maida.”
Jewel’s jaw
dropped. “Our Maida? See-no-evil, hear-no-evil, speak-no-evil Maida?”
“Yeah,” Tonia
said. “For, like, twenty-plus years. Maida could have been a partner herself if
she’d of had cojones. But she didn’t have the education, so she’s stuck at
office manager
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