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“CHARLOTTE, I HATE TO have to ask, but how many kinds of cheesecake have you got lined up for our party?”
“Cheesecake?” Charlotte repeated, looking up from her computer screen. Shane Letcher was standing in the doorway of her office, a stressed-out glare on his face. It was Monday morning, and since she’d last seen him on the Wednesday before Thanksgiving, he’d frosted his goatee and added reddish-blond highlights to his hair. He looked like a boyband leftover.
“Yes. Cheesecake,” he said. “I know I told you that we have to have cheesecake at our Christmas party.”
“I don’t remember hearing that, Sir, but I’m happy to get some on order.”
“I’m not your father. Call me Shane. And I know I told you this. After all, I love cheesecake. Or haven’t you noticed the plaque in my office?”
Charlotte rubbed her temples. “I guess I haven’t.”
“Come with me,” her boss instructed. He turned and marched away. Charlotte had no choice but to get up and follow him. Halfway to his office, Wally Dingle’s pet monkey leapt from the exposed heating duct above their heads, right onto Charlotte’s shoulder. The monkey’s little hands began picking at her scalp.
“Get off me, you little monster!” she screamed.
“Take it easy, woman!” yelled Wally, rushing from his office to claim his pet. “Did that mean woman yell at you, Mr. Primate? Get over here, buddy.” He scooped up the monkey and went into his office, slamming the door after them.
“I’m in hell,” Charlotte muttered to herself, smoothing the knots from her hair and flicking a chunk of banana from her sleeve.
“Charlotte! What’s the holdup? Pick up the pace,” yelled Shane Letcher.
“Right behind you,” she called.
“There,” Shane said, when Charlotte stepped into his office. He pointed. On the wall beside his poster of a soaring eagle that proclaimed Teamwork! Determination! Results! was a small, engraved brass plate affixed to a wooden backing.
“I can barely read it,” said Charlotte.
“Then get closer,” Shane demanded.
Charlotte took a few steps forward and squinted at the plaque. Cheesecake Lover it said in tiny letters.
“Is this a joke?” Charlotte ventured to ask.
“A joke?” asked her boss.
“Yes. I mean, has this tiny sign always been here?”
“Of course!” Shane shouted.
“Okay. Sorry I asked. What kinds of cheesecake would you like added to the holiday menu?”
“Plain, of course. Cherry, obviously. Chocolate, naturally. New York cheesecake. That’s cheesecake with strawberries on it.”
“Okay,” said Charlotte, not bothering to argue. “Anything else?”
“I thought you’d be rested, having all that time off, but if anything, you seem ditzier than ever,” said Shane.
“I didn’t have time off,” Charlotte reminded him. “I was in here on Thanksgiving, and again on Friday. And I spent all weekend running around town buying party decorations.”
Shane yawned loudly in her face to signify that he wasn’t interested in hearing any more from her.
“Do you need any additional cheesecake flavors for the party?” asked Charlotte.
“That should do it,” said Shane.
“Great,” said Charlotte, turning on her heel to head back to her office.
“Char,” said Shane.
“Yes?”
“I’m not going to give you any more help with this party. I mean it. You need to make it work without me pointing out the obvious. You got that?”
“Loud and clear,” she said.
“Something as obvious as the need for cheesecake... We can’t have you dropping the ball on that. Do you want to get fired?”
“Of course not.”
“Good. Then do a better job.”
“I will,” she said.
“By the way,” he added, “you look great today. Very sexy.”
Charlotte looked down at her navy blue button-down shirt and gray pants. She then realized that her shirt was unbuttoned halfway down her stomach, since Mr. Primate had ripped it open and torn away three of her buttons when he’d landed on her. A lacy red bra was exposed. She pulled her shirt back together.
“More of that,” said her boss, “and you might last here longer than I expected. Now, enough flirting. Get back to work.”