Chapter Three

I WASN’T GOING to bang my head against the keyboard, because that would be loud, and people would look and wonder what the hell was wrong with me. I wasn’t going to scream and pout, because I wasn’t five anymore.

But fucking hell, this project was testing me.

It was bad enough that the MagiCorp sales audit was taking up more and more of my brain space as I started figuring out how I’d tackle it, but why did one of my largest projects of the quarter have to be running late? It was for a key account, Raltz Therapeutics, and it was a big order! Delivering late was worse only to delivering an inadequate product. So, now, instead of really digging into the first ancient piece of software for the audit, I had to call up supervisors and track down individual techs who had been assigned to this part of the project.

Just one of the many struggles of my job.

Across the cube farm from me, Chelsea was speaking loudly on the phone. Sounded like she was having problems of her own. As I stood to refill my coffee, I met David’s eyes, and he raised his eyebrow in Chelsea’s direction.

“You know what’s going on?” he asked, standing from his chair and straightening his burgundy button-up. Like most of the men in the office, he was a slacks-and-button-up kind of guy, with his dark hair kept neatly trimmed. No tie though—that was his way to look “casual.”

“Hope it’s not her international project again,” I said with a cringe. It was one of those beauties where everything that could go wrong had gone wrong.

“Ugh, I hope not too.” He grimaced and pointed a finger at me. “So I heard Georgie assigned you a doozy.”

“You better believe he did. Want some coffee with me? I’d love to tell you.”

“Yeah.”

As I explained the technological walls I was already hitting on my journey to gather twelve years of sales data, my phone buzzed in my back pocket. A rush of hopefulness flowed through me, though knowing my luck, it’d be my mom texting me, not Rachael.

“There’s no way our machines still run the oldest software,” David said as he stopped at the carafe in the break room.

“Yeah, tell me about it. I’ve already started talking to IT about feasibility.”

I filled my cup behind him as he loaded up on the cream and sugar. As he paused to talk to one of our colleagues, I whipped out my phone.

Rachael: Okay I think I can hang out tomorrow night! Does that work for you?

I almost squealed.

Ann: Sure! Want to go to the café on J past the freeway?

David turned back toward me. “Anyways, Ann. If anyone can figure it out, it’s going to be you. Maybe sales audits should be a yearly standard, then we wouldn’t have a mess like this.”

Then, this would be his job, since David was the current dedicated project manager for MagiCorp. But instead of pointing it out, I just nodded.

He then surprised me by mentioning that fact on his own.

“I’m wondering if I can help you? Since it’s my client and all. We could share the load. Or I could talk to George about me doing the audit instead.”

“Oh.” I hesitated, unease flashing through me. I didn’t want to give the audit away after already working out how I was going to do it…especially since it would look great on my yearly review. He wasn’t going to take that from me now. “Thanks for the offer. I think I’ve got it though. It’s a new, different thing for me to do, you know?”

David raised his eyebrows as he sipped his coffee. “I can’t really argue with that. Well, Ann. You got this.” He raised his coffee to me, and I raised mine back, giving him a nod of solidarity.

I settled at my desk and logged back in to my computer to find some of the technicians had reached back out to me with updates on the Raltz project. Thank goodness for some progress.

Almost an hour passed with me absorbed in emails and Gantt charts before I remembered my chat with Rachael. I tapped at my phone and smiled at the most recent message from her.

Rachael: That sounds great! ;-)

I wiggled contentedly in my seat, and for a few minutes, work wasn’t too bad.

 

THE ROAR OF espresso machines and smell of coffee serenaded me for fifteen minutes as I debated whether or not I was going to order something before Rachael arrived. Finally, I gave in and got a pastry. I sat at a table near the back of the café and nibbled at the vanilla scone, a break in the running machines revealing a pop track playing softly overhead. For a weekday evening, the place was surprisingly crowded, and most of the tables around me had one or two patrons at them, their laptops glowing or coffee cups raised.

I collected items in Ani-min for the fourth time, which meant I had just hit twenty minutes here. At least I’d gotten a few orange mega-nets, a rarer item in the game. Rachael wasn’t on Facebook chat, so she was hopefully on her way, but I was starting to get pretty antsy. If she was going to be late, it would have been nice of her to let me know. Or maybe she’d ended up being busy after all. Or— I wasn’t sure.

One more item collection and I’d get going. I passed another minute catching mini-animals in the game, and then the front door opened, and in Rachael rushed. Her purse wasn’t even slung over her shoulder but was in her hand and dangling on its long strap by her ankles as she approached me. “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m here now, oh my god.”

I waved off her apology and swallowed down the bitter taste in my throat, which was quite contrary to the sweet scone. “Don’t worry. I’m glad you’ve made it! Let’s order a coffee.”

“Kids. Kids! I swear. I don’t know how many times I told Connor to get his shoes on.”

We stepped up to the counter, and I nodded, though the only picture in my head of how it might have gone was from old sitcoms or my own childhood. “But he eventually got them on?”

Rachael laughed. “God, yes. Eventually. He’s with his grandma now, and here I am. Thank you so much for waiting. I wasn’t sure you were still going to be here.”

I didn’t tell her how close she’d come. Instead, I took her in: a pale-green T-shirt and beige prairie skirt that went to her shins, her hair in cute curls around her cheeks, and a touch of makeup. I hadn’t seen her in makeup at the park. It enhanced her lips and eyes delightfully. I realized I was staring, so I looked ahead at the menu.

I too had put some makeup on; would she also notice?

“What can I get you ladies?” the barista asked, and I waved Rachael ahead to order first. She got a latte, and I stuck with my tried-and-true mocha, and we settled at my previous table in the back, under a picture of still life in sepia hues.

Rachael exhaled slowly, visibly relaxing both in posture and expression, the stress appearing to melt off her features. She smiled out at the café. “I don’t think I get out without the little guy enough. It’s so quiet. I’m not worried he’s running around.”

I laughed. It was definitely not quiet in here, with the espresso machines and the din of talk, but what she meant came across all right. “I know it’s not the same, but I feel that way about Franny sometimes.”

She smiled at me and collected items in Ani-min. I did too. “You don’t realize how much energy you’re putting in to taking care of a kid until you get a break from it. It’s like you can breathe, knowing they’re somewhere else and safe for a few minutes. Or, I don’t know, maybe I’m just not very good at it.”

“I’m sure you’re fine.”

“Thanks. It’s hard when I’m by myself.”

Oh god, she was confirming what I’d gleaned from her Facebook profile about her relationship status. I wanted to ask her about it but didn’t want to push her out of her comfort zone too soon. “I can’t imagine. When I was growing up, my brothers and I were probably terrors to my mom. She took care of us after school by herself until our dad got home.”

Rachael laughed. “How many brothers?”

“Just two. But they had the destructive force of twenty, being twins.”

“Oh god no.”

I laughed and then heard our drinks being called. “I’ll get yours, too, okay?”

“Sure.”

After picking up the hot cups, I returned to the table, Rachael’s bare legs stealing my attention. They were crossed, and her foot danced in the air, her flip-flop dangling off the ends of her toes. Her toenails were sky blue. A trickle of attraction made its way up my spine, and I shivered as I took my seat.

“I love the smell of coffee.” I set down our drinks. “I think I’m addicted to the smell as much as the caffeine.”

“It’s nice, but I don’t know about that nice!” She laughed.

“Sometimes, it’s the only thing getting me through the workday.”

“Fair enough. What do you do?” she asked, raising her cup to her lips only for a moment, not yet taking a sip of the surely too-hot beverage.

“I’m a project manager. I help corporations who order custom products from a bunch of different manufacturers and ensure they get them on schedule.”

“Oooh, a businesswoman. How fancy.”

I scrunched my nose, holding my cup between my palms, waiting for it to be cool enough to not burn my tongue. “If you think drinking enough coffee to make sense of a hundred spreadsheets every day is fancy.”

She smiled. “Yeah, I do.”

There was no doubt I was blushing. My cheeks felt as warm as my palms. “So, what do you do?”

Rachael took a sip from her cup and sucked in a breath. “Hot.” With a chuckle, she put the cup back down. “I work day shifts at an office supply store. I’m the queen of stationary and pens and school supplies.”

And she looked proud of it, too, a smile brightening her face, though maybe her rosy cheeks were due to the coffee. I smiled back and took a sip of my own, the complex bitter and chocolaty sweet calming my still-fluttery nerves. Oh, coffee. May its warmth give me the confidence to truly ask Rachael out.

“Seeing all the new products sounds like fun,” I said. “Is the job mostly stocking shelves though?”

“There’s some of that, sure. But I’m also a lead, so I keep track of my team and make our schedule. And I’m out on the floor helping customers more often than stocking nowadays.”

“Nice. And the store schedules you around Connor’s school hours?”

“Usually. He stays after school in the afternoons if I need to work a bit later, and then, he’s with my mom on Saturdays.”

I nodded. “And what grade is Connor in?”

Rachael’s face lit up even more than when she talked about work, as she told me about how he’d started first grade a few weeks ago, and how well he was doing in a variety of subjects. I sipped my coffee and smiled, occasionally collecting items in Ani-min when the ability refreshed, enjoying her pride and the tone of her voice, but not having much of a context in which to put all of the kid stuff. I liked getting to know her, and I really liked hearing the love in her voice, and I liked looking at her bright eyes…

“Oh my goodness, I can talk forever about Connor. I’m sure you didn’t suggest we hang out just to hear me talk about my kid.”

I shrugged, taking another sip of my coffee, finally cool enough to drink comfortably. “I like hearing it, honestly. Parenting is a world I know little about.”

“And business is a world I know little about,” she prompted.

“Hearing details about my job is not nearly as enthralling as hearing details about your son.”

“Try me.” She swirled her cup, and my breath caught from the slight twinge of her eyebrow, turning her expression into a borderline smirk.

“All right then.” So, I told her about the massive audit, and how IT was already getting annoyed at my endless questions. And every time she laughed, I fell harder for her, a need that built into a weight on my chest making it hard to breathe. But I still don’t know if she’s queer.

“And on top of that, I have all my current clients and their projects, so I’ll inevitably do overtime. I know poor Franny’s going to have to deal with some long days… I’ll need to make it up to her big-time.”

“Well, rest assured, anytime you catch Connor and me at the park, she’ll be free to play with him as long as you like. We got home after that evening last week and Connor was so happy. Went to bed with no fuss and stayed asleep until morning. I’ll take that sort of miracle wherever I can get it.”

“I gotta hand it to you, you’ve brought to light a lot of the aspects of parenting I didn’t know about—stuff that doesn’t seem so bad. Like the joy in his accomplishments. The fun in playing with him.”

She shook her head, though her smile was warm. “I promise you, it’s not all fun and games.”

“I figure. I honestly can’t imagine myself in the parenting shoes yet. And you’re doing this all by yourself?” Please don’t notice how nervous I am from going there…

“My mom helps a lot. But besides that, I’m on my own. Connor’s dad… His support is mostly monetary nowadays.”

“I’m sorry,” I said quietly. What was one supposed to say in a situation like this?

“Ah, it’s okay. I like living with my little man. We’re a good team.”

“Wonderful.” My heart pounded. I finished off my coffee, and I went for it. “Not dating or anything?” I said it! Ahh!

“Oh, goodness.” She buried her face behind her coffee for a moment, and when she put her cup down, her cheeks were even more rosy than before. “No, I can’t imagine how I’d have time for that.”

“I dunno—you had time for tonight.”

Rachael opened her mouth, then shut it again, and frowned.

Oh no, she’s not queer. Damn it.

“Ah, you’re right. But I guess I didn’t—”

“Sorry, never mind, okay?” I said quickly, trying to think of anything to change the subject. I collected items in Ani-min and gave Rachael an attempt at a smile. “I’ve heard a rumor on the forums that we’re going to see new mini-animals in the game world. Do you think that’s true?”

Rachael raised her eyebrows and unlocked her phone. “It’d be a good time to do it, before winter hits.” She paused to collect items too. “I swear the best thing about going to a place like this is collecting items the whole time.”

“Oh my god, yes. I finally have a good stock of nets.”

At least we had transitioned to a friendlier topic without too much pain, though the weight on my chest was still pulling me down. I had finally calmed from my slipup by the time Rachael put her phone away and went to stand.

“Thanks so much for hanging out with me tonight, Ann. I hope we catch you around the park soon.”

“Agreed.”

She twiddled her fingers at me and strode out of the café. I sat there another moment, tapping my empty cup on the tabletop.

“Not queer,” I muttered. It wasn’t fair.