Problem Child (Jane Doe #2) - Victoria Helen Stone Page 0,4
shakes off his joy and frowns. “What?”
“Nothing. Congrats. Sounds like everything is really lining up for you. And you definitely deserve it all.”
“Thanks, Jane.”
“My pleasure, Robert.”
“It’s Rob,” he corrects absentmindedly for about the fiftieth time this year.
“I know.”
When we reach our building, he pushes the glass doors open with way too much force, and one of them clangs against the discreet rubber stopper with a gong that echoes through the atrium. Faces turn. He doesn’t notice.
“I’m going to run to the bathroom,” I say as he moves toward the elevators. “I need to piss like crazy.”
He wrinkles his nose at the crude words. Savannah would never say anything that gross. She’ll make such a great mom.
I give Rob a little wave and head toward the lobby bathrooms. “See you in a few!”
I take my time. I pee and wash my hands. Check my teeth for lunch remnants. Reapply the crimson lipstick. Smooth down my dark-brown bob. Then I dab a little moisturizer on my hands and slowly rub it in. The meeting starts in thirty minutes, but I’ve already prepared, so there’s no rush. In fact, I pop back outside to grab a coffee.
I’ve worn my power suit today, not that Rob noticed. It’s dark charcoal gray, nearly black, with a subtle red pinstripe that matches my mouth. The skirt is knee length and tight, hugging my hips and pointing the eye down to my scarlet heels. I feel like the queen of the world as I ride the elevator back up with my mocha latte and all the notes I memorized last night so I wouldn’t need to write them down.
The meeting starts in five minutes. I log into Google Docs using Rob’s name and password. All that teamwork we put in together means I know all of his passwords. Well. There’s only one. He uses the same one to access his laptop and unlock documents and log into Google. It’s Rob#1in2017.
I’m not kidding. He could at least update the year every once in a while.
“Jane.” Rob is leaning against the doorjamb of my office, a coffee cup in hand, his eyes bleary. “Did you get those last numbers on district budgets?”
“Yeah, I’ll just chime in when you get to that part, no problem.”
“Great.”
He dips back into his office to grab his laptop. I leave the first page of notes for the meeting intact so everything will look normal for Rob when he opens the document; then I handwrite a few critical details on my notepad before deleting pages two to four of the shared document. Rob is heading down the hall when I log him off Google and stand up to join the fun.
Here we go!
We met the client before, but this time there’s a whole team of people in attendance, faces open with possibility. I shine as bright as I can, shaking hands all around as I’m introduced as one of the lawyers helping with this project. I glow with friendliness.
Rob, on the other hand, is glowing with whiskey fumes. It’s not a subtle alcohol, and I can see eyes dart toward him as he weaves in and out of the gathering. Jesus Christ, Rob, it’s 2:00 p.m. on a Thursday! Control yourself!
He shakes every hand in the room before taking a seat near the two partners in attendance. I fade into the background at a far corner of the conference table. I’m dressed to impress, sure, but no one likes a woman who shows off. So I become modesty incarnate, zipping my lips and smiling benignly at everyone and no one. I fade the way I used to watch my best friend fade, making myself smaller and easier to swallow.
But Rob’s glow intensifies, blooming from his pink, flushed cheeks. “I guess I’ll start things off,” he booms, his too-loud words shaking my eardrums as they settle over the table. “It’s great to finally meet everyone in person after all those email exchanges.”
The two partners glance at each other before turning to stare at Rob. Why is he taking control of the meeting?
One of them clears his throat. “Yes, welcome, everyone,” he says, his words half the volume of Rob’s as he steps in. “Let’s get down to business. As you know, you asked us to put out some feelers about additional buyers for your imported supply of premium chicken products after your success with the state prison system. What we’ve found is that the contract possibilities are incredibly promising . . .”