to build from the ground up. “Clearly he appreciates your dedication. Venus is my girl.”
He pointed at the chalkboard. “Hence your ability to create beauty with nothing more than a tray full of chalk.”
Annie stared at us as if:
Unable to believe Topher Doyle and I were getting on at this level; and
Wondering how she had such goofballs for both a boss and a BFF.
“So,” Topher Doyle said, “what’s your idea?”
Silence blanketed the room. Topher Doyle and Annie both stared at me. I froze, everything a blank.
Nothing.
I had nothing. Not a single idea.
I had come this far, and would fail here on the edge of achieving my Great Work.
The three of us sat in a long, incredibly awkward silence. The lack of sound rang in my ears like the clanging of my own foundering.
And then, like Venus rising from the sea on a half shell, the idea rose up fully formed from the ocean of my unconscious mind.
“An adoption center for puppies rescued from puppy mills.”
Topher Doyle’s eyes widened. “Tell me more.”
So I told him about the recent puppy mill bust and about how there were forty rescued adult female dachshunds—many of them pregnant—and about a bazillion puppies, which exceeded the capacity of the local no-kill pet shelter, Austin Pets Alive! The adoption center at Sixth and Lamar would be a showcase (and home) for puppies rescued from puppy mills. Adoption fees would be much lower than the price of a pure-bred dog. They could do fund-raisers, too, to increase awareness and raise money.
“I love it!” Topher Doyle said. “It could be a 501(c)(3) under the umbrella of Whole Foods.”
“And could create a substantial tax write-off,” Annie chimed in.
“Exactly,” Topher Doyle said. “I’ll call my people at Lululemon today.” He glanced at his watch. “Now I need to get back to figuring out how to reduce this company’s carbon emissions to a negative number. We want to be like a giant corporate ghost, leaving absolutely no carbon footprint.”
“Okay,” I said. I glanced at Annie. She nodded slightly. “And the job.” I gestured at my army of beautiful gleaming purple phalluses. “When will I hear back about the job?”
“You can start sometime next week,” Topher Doyle said. “Direct all salary negotiations to Annie. I’ll be in touch about the Puppy Adoption Center.” Before I could thank him, he stood up, took an unexpected little bow, and sashayed from the room. For a moment, Annie and I stared at each other. “Keep cool!” she said. “Keep cool just until we get out of here.”
As we walked through the fifth floor, I was in a daze. We thanked Teal, who gave us a funny wink and said, “Nice eggplants.” We rode down the elevator and when we stepped outside, Artemis was standing there waiting for us.
“Well?” she asked.
“We did it! We did it!” I said, jumping up and down and hugging Annie and Artemis as tightly as I could until we were all sort of jumping up and down together. “I love you! I love my girls!” Normally we would have gone to Deep Eddy Cabaret for a few beers to celebrate. But since Artemis is newly sober, we went into Whole Foods for kombucha. A cashier named Rex—who I know for certain did the do with Artemis in the parking lot a few months ago—waved at her hopefully. But she made a shooing gesture at him and he looked away, clearly crushed.
We settled in at a table, and as I sipped a lavender-pear-flavored booch I said, “You know that without you two, I’d be in PharmaTrial right now, all doped up and trying not to fall asleep.”
“True,” Annie said. “But you’re the one who did the footwork. You just momentarily gave up before the miracles could happen.”
Despite the happy occasion, I couldn’t help but notice Artemis looked a little morose. “What’s up, Artemis?” I asked.
“I’m thrilled for you. Ecstatic! But for me I feel a little sad. I’m unemployed. Mostly sober, not manic. Haven’t even felt like fucking a stranger in days. What am I going to do with myself?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “But I’m pretty sure it will come clear. Venus works in mysterious ways.”
“That she does,” Annie said.
“What are you doing in here, Poxy Roxy?” a voice boomed. Dirty Steve loomed over me. He looked larger than I remembered him and really intimidating. Had our constant jousting been sort of friendly? With the opioid’s effects lingering in my brain, it was hard to remember. “Nelson told me you were playing