“Maddie. You’re here. Thank god. The deployment mix-up is a nightmare, the numbers aren’t matching the report, and we’re meeting in ten minutes with the heads of the Northwest team.”
I offer my frantic boss an understanding smile I’ve honed over years of working with her whirlwind personality. Everything seems like life or death when it comes out of her mouth, even if it’s something as simple as forgetting to water the plant in her office for a week.
“Let me take a look. I reviewed everything last night, and I’m sure we can get it straightened out.”
“You are a lifesaver. I don’t know what I would do without you. This entire company would collapse.” As dire as that statement sounds, it’s not entirely an overexaggeration. As the sole logistics associate, I do deployments and project processing—along with a collection of other data-driven tasks—that keep operations running smoothly.
If I were to disappear off the face of the earth, The Redford Team would have a hell of a time filling the void left in my absence. Hence why I was working at my brother’s funeral. It’s not that Pamela was disregarding my personal time. It’s just that there was an emergency and literally no one else was equipped to deal with it.
Also, I might have kept the fact that I was at my brother’s memorial to myself. Pamela knew that Josh was sick. She’s known for a year and hasn’t batted an eye about my trips to the East Coast to check in on him. As long as I got my work done, there was no reasonfor her to worry. And as long as I got my work done, there was no reason for me to ask Pamela for time off. My job is largely portable.
And, once again, imperative for the company to keep functioning smoothly.
As I settle in at my cubicle, I ignore the guilt that pricks at my stomach, the little voice in the back of my head that says a good employee would be proactive about training a backup. About pushing to have another on call to fill my shoes if they ever become empty.
But whenever I decide I’m going to bring it up with Pamela, something more pressing comes up.
Besides, I don’t mind being a necessary cog in the Redford machine. I like knowing that Pamela trusts and relies on me. That I’m her problem-solver. That everyone in the company knows who I am and how integral I am to our success, even if I’m not one of the rock-star accountants who brings in the big money.
Odd as it may seem to the people who mocked math nerds in high school, at Redford, the accountants are the applauded celebrities. The hotshot bad boys. The “work hard, play hard” crew.
My mind flits away from The Redford Team to another accountant I know.
Dominic Perry.
He’s of the “work hard, then work harder” mentality. I doubt he’d fit well at our firm.
Although, I’ve found people tend to like the taciturn asshole for some reason. Like his hot face makes up for his domineering personality.
I don’t get it.
Seemed like you got it when you tried to kiss him.
I shake my head, trying to shut up the part of my brain that enjoys replaying all my past mistakes on a loop whenever I let my guard down.
Focusing on work keeps me busy enough to drive away all unwanted thoughts about things I left on the other side of the country. The day goes by at a normal pace with multiple morning meetings, and the rest of my time is filled with digging through datasets, processing accountant deployments, and doing a hundred other little tasks.
When lunch rolls around, I check the windows and smile to see the rain has paused. I love the gray clouds and thunderstorms when I can stay inside all day watching how droplets spill down the glass panes. But when I want to walk the block to my favorite falafel shop, I’d prefer to stay dry on the excursion. As I finish wrapping a thick scarf around my neck to fight off the Seattle winter chill, I do a quick check of my personal email on my phone.
I freeze at the sight of a familiar name.
Sender:Dominic Perry
Subject:Travel Plans
Maddie,
You didn’t give me your phone number. Please do so.
We still need to spread Josh’s ashes in Alabama, Alaska, Arizona, Idaho, Kansas, North Dakota, and South Dakota. Provide me with dates you are available, and I will begin making travel arrangements. I can cover the initial cost until Josh’s assets are released.
My phone number is (215) 555-6055.
Dom
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I mutter, glaring at my phone screen.
Did he get a robot to write this?
