"Cancel it," he commands. "We need to discuss the integration of your team's stack into Atmosphere's. I'm absolutely swamped with back-to-back meetings all day today, and it can't wait until next week."
Next week? Shit, is it Friday already? God, Icannotstick around after hours on a Friday to be completely alone withhim. "I'm sorry, that won't be possible."
"That wasn't a request." Dustin steps closer, and I can smell his soap. Something woodsy. I think Nora from HR would have a conniption if she walked in right now—he's too goddamn close. "Collaboration is one of Atmosphere's core values. Are you saying you don't align with the core values?"
"Of course I do," I mutter with a scowl. Nana was right—my facewillstick like this. "I'll confirm with you before end of day."
"Glad to hear it. Enjoy your day, Ms. Dunne."
Ms. Dunne.Did anyone ever tell you how hard it is to change your name both professionally and personally? Sure, getting married is the fun part. People congratulate you when you ask to update your records. It's a happy occasion. When you get divorced, though, all you get are pitying eyes and hushed apologies.
Try as I might to erase every part of Calvin from my life, some parts of the company personnel database are still branded with my married name. And no matter how many times I gripe at IT, somehow, my email always changes back to "Dunne." I'd like to point out the fact that my emailsignaturesays Moore. Leave it to Dustin to poke at wounds.
With the team's coffee orders stacked precariously on one of those little cardboard drink holders, I return to our section of the office and pass them out silently. I know they're whispering about me, but I just can't focus on it. I know they'll get their work done. They always do. I think they like to work extra hard to make me—and themselves—look good when I'm out of sorts. It's what I love about them. It's why I'm going to fight, tooth and nail, against fuckingDustinin this acquisition.
After a longer time than I meant to linger, I finally open my laptop and see the meeting invitation from Dickbag Dustin. Today, Friday evening, six-thirty to eight-thirty. What on earth could take two hours to discuss? On aFriday? I rub my temples and sigh before I can catch myself.
"What's the matter, boss-lady?" Andrea pipes up.
"Nothing. I'm just tired, that's all."
"Late night? Did Ricky keep you up with his diamond hands and puts?" Darrell snorts.
"Ugh, I wish it was that simple—I mean, no. I've just had a lot on my mind. You know, the baking side hustle isn't panning out as well as I'd hoped. But really, guys, it's going to be fine. We always have been, and we always will be. Just promise me that you'll give me some heads up if any of you decide to look for other employment, okay?" Hopefully, my forced smile will show that I'm joking—or trying to—but they just solemnly nod and turn back to their screens.
The day dragged by as I stared at the clock in the top-right of my laptop screen. I didn't have the heart to connect to my external monitor. A cold feeling of dread grew in my stomach over the hours. I couldn't even enjoy my sushi-rito lunch. That's a sushi burrito, and it's just about my favorite food abomination in the city. The gentle tingle from the spicy salmon didn't even perk me up.
My team packs up for the day at five, like they always do. I force another weary smile as they file out. Andrea's signature brightly patterned dress is the last bit of momentary joy I can force myself to appreciate. I envy her, you know? She's incredibly brash but has the competence to back it up. And her dresses are always so beautiful. Flowy sundresses in the summer, swishy floor-length in the winter.Alwaysas bright as the sun or thereabout.
Today's dress was a pale pink background with vibrant fuchsia blooms in an all-over print. I have no idea where she gets them—she might sew them herself? She really is a talented woman, and I'm so happy I get to work with her. But that joy sours in my gut as the time inches closer to Dustin's meeting. I hope I can keep her job. I hope I can keep the whole team's jobs.
Ding.
Right on cue, an email notification pops up. Dustin has adjusted the meeting time to… ten minutes from now.Shit.I mean, good. Maybe I'll get out of here at a reasonable time. Hell, maybe it'll be just the perfect time when peak traffic has faded but before the frequency slows down. Yeah, this could be good.
Pop-pop.
Oh, goody. IT got him set up with Slack. His stupid little anonymous icon flashes into view at the top of my DM list. I guess he doesn't care enough to add a photo. Is that good or bad? I can't tell.
Conf room B.
Yes, obviously. I can read the meeting invitation.
k.
"Ugh!" I scoff to the empty room and try to quell the simmering irritation. Thanks tohim, I haven't gotten any work done today. Andrea's pull requests sit unmonitored somewhere in my browser tabs. Felicity's meeting notes with the UI Design are in my inbox, but I just can't bring myself to look at them, either.
The only thing I've done today is send silly videos to Janine. Her laugh emoji reactions taunt me. Even though nothing was planned, I figured I'd ask her to come over, and we could drink ourselves half-blind. But that's not happening tonight—not with Dickbag Dustin trampling all over my work-life balance.
I watch the clock tick over to five-thirty. Dustin's meeting reminder pops up in the corner of my screen with a happy littleding. I think he can stand to wait a little bit, especially considering he only deigned to inform me of this meeting approximately nine hours ago. And on a Friday? Positively absurd.
Pop-pop.
ETA?
I leave him on read. I'll wait until five-thirty-five before taking a leisurely stroll to the conference room. Maybe check out the kitchen, plunder some snacks. Something crunchy. He alwayshatedwhen people crunch loudly. A wicked grin spreads across my face, and I decide that's exactly what I'll do.
Gently closing my laptop, I pop up from my desk and nearly skip to the kitchen. I know there are always a few bags of pre-popped popcorn in the vending machine. White cheddar ought to do the trick. With a devilish grin, I drop in enough quarters for three bags.
