She swung by the coffeeshop on the way in, to get a good luck hug from her mom, and to add ill-advised caffeine to her already-jittery system.
Her mom was waiting behind the counter, steaming travel cup and a chocolate chip muffin waiting.
Ava was standing in front of the counter, leaning back against it, holding her own travel cup.
“What are you doing here?” Leah exclaimed, filled with a sudden, nearly-overwhelming burst of gladness to see her best friend.
“Mom’s watching the kids for me so I could come wish you good luck on your first day.” She grinned, and held out a brown paper bag. “She also made you lunch: roast chicken on sourdough, and homemade fries.”
“Youguys.” Because not only was she nervous this morning, but liable to burst into unhelpful tears. She took the bag, and then tackled Ava in a hug that had Ava laughing and protesting about spilling her coffee.
For a minute, with Ava’s lavender-scented hair tickling her nose, Ava’s arms tight around her own much-smaller frame, she felt sixteen again. Like it was the two of them against the world – or at least just against Knoxville – and she’d always felt her most invincible when they had each other’s backs.
She pulled back, and saw Ava blink a few times, tossing her hair over her shoulder to hide it. “Go forth and account things. Make us proud.”
Leah saluted her.
“You’re gonna do great, baby,” her mom assured, leaning over the counter to offer a less-crushing, but no less warm and welcome hug of her own. She kissed Leah’s cheek as she pulled back, eyes sparkling and shiny with unshed tears. “It’s so good to have you home, I was just telling Ava.”
“Mom.”
“She was,” Ava agreed, nodding, “and I can’t second that sentiment enough.” She gave Leah another, quicker hug. “Knock ‘em dead – and I mean that literally. If Ian’s an ass, you have my permission to slap the pretentious right off of him.”
It wasn’t far to the office, but she drove there, rather than take up a valuable customer parking place in front of the shop. She parked in the new, well-lit deck behind the building, and showed her ID to the guard behind the desk at the rear entrance.
“Just a sec,” he told her, and another immaculate, gently-smiling employee – Josh, this time – appeared from nowhere and took her to have her photo snapped for an ID card.
Fifteen minutes later, still-hot ID hanging from the waistband of her skirt by a little clip, Josh led her down a hallway on the third floor, and into a wide open, well-lit space studded with open-concept cubicles; the kind with only the barest nod to privacy, and easy sightlines to encourage cooperation and collaboration. (She’d already seen it last night, online, in the training video Candace had emailed her the link for.)
It was a pretty space, with a full, open-concept kitchen along the back wall, and floor-to-ceiling windows to offer dramatic views of the streets and shops below. More plants; she was sensing a theme. And several plush couches and chairs with side tables. Breaks were encouraged, her introductory email packet had explained.
Three people were already seated at computers, more smartly dressed than her, she noticed. All of them glanced up at the sound of her arrival. All of them smiled.
One young woman waved. “Hi! You must be Leah.”
The young man nearest stood up to shake her hand.
Leah took a deep breath, told her nerves to cool it, and got started.
~*~
“Why are you so terrible at this?” Tenny asked. He lifted his arms again, feet spread on the mat, bent slightly forward at the hips, ready to strike again. “Again. Come at me.”
Evan wiped sweaty hair off his forehead, squinting against the sunlight that beat down on the back salvage lot behind the clubhouse – and scowling at Tenny. Sweat had soaked through his t-shirt, plastered his hair to his head, and bruises were already starting to come up on his arms, faint shadows and smudges. He’d yet to land a hit of his own, and Fox had stopped offering instructions and was just watching now, sitting impassively on a picnic table, watching the match play out from behind dark sunglasses.
“Come on,” Tenny coaxed, voice going falsely bright. He made little kissing sounds, like he was trying to lure out a shy animal. “Have another go at me.”
Evan’s face darkened, his nostrils flared, and he lunged – only to be caught and tossed right on his back. Tenny placed a booted foot on his sternum, pinning him.
“Terrible,” he said, clucking. “Just terrible.”
Reese saw Evan snap before he moved; it wasn’t surprising. Tenny was being even more of an asshole than usual.
“That’s – alright, fuck you, that’s it!” Evan exploded with movement, kicking out with both feet, arms flailing. He grabbed at Tenny’s ankle and tried to claw him away.
Tenny pulled back, but slowly, in total control, expression one of mild distaste.
“Fuck you!” Evan repeated, scrambling to his feet. He whirled to face Fox, chest heaving, stabbing a finger through the air toward Tenny. “Fuck him! I give up! Fuck it!” He stormed off, and a moment later, the back door slammed shut behind him.
