Up & Out - Ariella Papa [42]
“How was your weekend?” she asks brightly.
“Oh, it was great.” I decide to try a new approach. Maybe we could be friendly. “I had a date. How was yours?”
“What weekend? I worked all weekend. I thought my junior year thesis at Harvard was difficult, but it was nothing compared to this.” Perhaps she’s bitter because I’m glowing with post-date happiness.
I will not be tricked into friendliness again. If I went to an Ivy League school would I reference it in every conversation? No, I would like to think I would be confident enough to let my capabilities speak for themselves. I try to smile like I understand how tough it is for her.
I listen politely as she starts to go over budgets. I want to tell her that Explore! has more money than any division. It isn’t her money, yet for some reason she is explaining to me how she wants us to fill out forms in triplicate and how it’s my job to tell Janice and John about it.
“Also, I am curious as to why you signed this expense report for Janice from last week. What was this two hundred dollars used for?”
“It was a business meeting,” I say. I knew it was a mistake to listen to Don Beckford. He is able to squirm out of anything. I, on the other hand, agree to anything once I get a few drinks in me. I have a quick flash of Tommy’s Facts of Life fantasies. “Anyway, Hackett signed off on it.”
“Also, I wanted to talk to you about Kim’s attendance.”
“Whose?” She is confused and looks down on her desk at some papers. She’s vacillating between confusion, giddiness and downright condescension.
“I think you mean Jen.” I decide not to tell her that she’s Hackett’s niece. “She was ill, but I think she’s okay.”
“Wonderful. I think we’re going to have to have a meeting about punctuality with John and Janice.”
“They’re here until eleven at night sometimes.”
“Sometimes,” she parrots. “Please set that up. Also, I look forward to getting your calendar today.”
“Right,” I say. “I’ll send it ASAP.”
Perhaps I can avoid her. Maybe I can keep her at bay with constant e-mails and forms filled out in triplicate. Triplicate? We have deadlines! Instead of meetings and excess forms, we should be working.
I call Tommy when I get back to my desk. I wake him up. Take that for calling me before eleven o’clock on a Saturday. I tell him that I will begin moving my stuff in next weekend. He sort of grunts when I say it.
“I hope I’m doing the right thing,” I say, hoping for some word to indicate that I am.
“Me, too,” he says. Very reassuring.
I spend the rest of the day making notes on three episodes. We are going to do all the voice-over next week. I get three e-mails from Delores, each detailing intricately some new policy that she’s putting into effect for the sole purpose of wasting my time or creating more piles of paper on her desk. I wonder how the other executive producers feel about all of this. My work keeps me separate from everyone. This makes it nearly impossible to plan a coup.
Seamus calls when I’m in the middle of laughing at the thought of it.
“Rebecca Cole.”
“You sound pissed off. I thought this weekend would have put you in a real good mood.”
“Hi,” I say, and try to put a smile in my voice. “Things are insane at work, but it’s nice to hear from you.”
“I just wanted to tell you how much fun I had yesterday and Saturday.” He laughs. He is acting a bit sure of himself, but it has been a long time since I was in the beginning stages of a relationship. Maybe I don’t know what is supposed to happen at this point. I’ll have to roll with it.
“Me, too. What are you up to tonight?”
“Oh, I have to meet with a couple of clients tonight and do a bunch of paperwork tomorrow,” he says. “I’d really love to take you out for some Moroccan on Wednesday.”
“I have a lot of work to do, too.” I try to downplay how desperate I am to get away from all this. “Wednesday sounds terrific. I love Middle Eastern.”
“I knew