Jill picked up the cell phone from her desk as if to call someone, then threw it across the room instead. Audrey cringed. It broke into big hunks of black plastic and wires.
“Sorry,” Jill said.
Audrey didn’t answer. In a way, it reassured her. Maybe, sometimes, everybody goes a little crazy.
“I have to take a leave of absence. A few days, at least.” Jill bent down to collect a piece of the phone, then dug her sneaker into it instead. It broke with a single snap!
“I bought this for him, in case something happened. I hate cell phones. Just another excuse for those asshole brothers to call me at midnight and tell me about their money problems. Maybe if they stopped hiring their relatives, we’d be in the black.”
“I’m so sorry,” Audrey said.
Jill nodded, then pinched the bridge of her nose until her eyes cleared. “I’ve got to talk to you about something.”
“What?” Audrey asked, quite certain that Jill knew. The scissors. Her apartment. What she’d done to the condolence cards at her cubicle. There was so little, save this job, that kept her tethered to this world.
“The Pozzolanas sold the company to a corporation based in India. They’re announcing layoffs at the end of the week.”
Audrey’s mouth went dry, and she realized, for the first time in a long while, how much she loved her job. How proud she’d been to finally get here, under the big top.
Jill waved her hand. “Oh, no. You’re fine. But we’re losing some of the team. I had to switch the Parkside Plaza meeting with the Pozzolanas until next Friday, obviously. But I’m taking a leave of absence, and somebody needs to run it. I was thinking Simon Parker.” Jill let this statement hang in the air.
Audrey shrugged. “I gave him a job. How did it turn out?”
“Not good. He’s not a creative. But I’m out of options. Unless you plan on coming back this week.”
“How far along are we since I left?”
Jill shook her head very slowly, to convey the severity of the problem. “Some ideas. At least you got them stepping up. But I haven’t been around, and neither have you. There wasn’t enough direction…You’re good. I should have told you that before now. I see myself in you, though maybe that’s not what you want to hear. Want to be a middle manager the rest of your life?”
Audrey took a wary breath. “Not really.”
Jill dropped her hands from her temples, turned to Audrey, looked at her for a long while, and grinned very slightly. “Sometimes I want to throw you out a window.”
Audrey nodded. “I feel the same way about you.”
“Either you do the presentation, or Parker. If the Pozzolanas didn’t treat this place like a country club and hire their friends’ kids, this wouldn’t be an issue. But that’s not how they roll. The rest of us do the work for the ones who can’t.”
Audrey moaned. She thought about all the work she’d done that would be lost if Simon screwed up the presentation, and the client passed. AIAB would hire a whole new firm. Jill would lose her promotion. So, for that matter, would Audrey, who was in line for a serious raise next year. No joke before, when she’d been talking to Bethy; her temporary crown was three years old. She needed a dentist. And maybe staying at work was best. Look how she’d acted all morning. Did she really want to go home, to be left with no one but herself, and The Breviary?
“I think I can do it, but I can’t promise.”
“Good girl,” Jill said. “I knew you’d come through. You always do.”
Audrey was moved. It had been a long while since anyone had approved of her. “Thanks.”
“Just the truth. Oh, right. The other thing.” Jill scribbled something on a yellow Post-it, and handed it to Audrey. “My home number. I’m busy, obviously. But if there’s something urgent about the job, or if you trash your place again, give me a call.”
Audrey’s eyes watered. Was this woman her friend, after all? “Oh, stop,” Jill said. “I hate tears.”
She tried to return Jill’s kindness. “What’s his name? The one who’s sick?” she asked.
“Was,” Jill said. “I just got the call.” She tried to smile. Her mouth was a piano string pulled tight.
Audrey stifled a gasp. She knew that if she showed any emotion, it would spread through the air like a sneeze, and start Jill crying. “What was his name?”