Paul stood, and Gary and the suits immediately surrounded him. Everyone from the department was going over to thank him.
I waited until he was alone and approached him by the elevators, where he chatted with a security guard.
“You’re for the Brooklyn Nets over the New York Knicks? Who are you?” Paul said to him, and they laughed together.
I exhaled and smiled. His ease gave me the extra boost in confidence to approach him.
“Excuse me, Mr. Crane?” I said.
Paul’s head turned towards me and his exuberant smile evaporated. “Yes?”
My confidence dropped. A change had come over him. “Thank you… for your kind words.”
I held out my hand. His shake was brief, but he stepped away from the guard and led me several steps away for privacy.
“There was nothing kind about giving away your opportunity. You downplayed your background, and even when you challenged them, you gave them an excuse. Are you thankful for what I said, or do you wish I hadn’t said a thing?”
I furrowed my brow but bit my tongue to avoid causing a scene. My blood was boiling. It was easy for him to say, he could get anything he wanted, but I depended on this job. I did my best to keep things nonconfrontational with my bosses. If I did anything else, they might fire me. And then where would I be? I certainly wouldn’t be at Prima Games either.
His eyes regarded me, and then they softened. They were the same as they’d been when he watched me on the train. He leaned close to say something, but Gary appeared again.
“Paul, there you are,” Gary said as he walked over and stood between us. “We’ll make the last meeting short.” He then turned to me. “It was great that you could make the meeting today, Audrey. Keep up the good work.” His hand gestured toward the elevator, and he and Paul entered it together.
I noticed Paul kept his eyes on me until the elevator doors closed.
Had I gone so far out of my way to make things easier on my bosses? By pointing out my shortcomings had I’d removed myself from working on Paul’s soundtrack? For the second time that day, I’d received a golden egg, and now both might have slipped from my grip. However, the meeting was over, and I had only to move forward.
Thoughts of Paul clung to my mind and journeyed to where the music lay buried; to that version of Aubrey. The one who didn’t have to humble herself to keep a temporary job. The one who had held the promise of becoming a professional violinist but ended up losing everything.
Aubrey
I didn’t have to look outside my office to see that I wasn’t the only one working past six on a Friday. Nothing motivated unpaid overtime like a round of layoffs. Everyone had suddenly become the model employee, working harder than before and, to most of the supervisors’ delight, working ahead. Email notices flashed like spam ads on my computer, with messages marked for all of us to view completed work, including film clips and screenshots of progress. Though their efforts were for an audience of a few to stand out and show worth, I was also keen and had been sending out a few of my own.
My eagerness lasted until Ryan sent me a text, even though he’d already left the office to pick up the youngest of his three children.
6:07 P.M. We’ve reassigned the outbreak scene for Daniel to do.
My stomach immediately tied in knots. The outbreak scene had been in the video presentation today. I sent back a reply.
6:09: P.M. Why are you reassigning it? What’s wrong with the scene? If there is a problem, I can fix it.
My phone rang, and before I spoke, Ryan spoke loudly from the other end over the sound of his toddler daughter wailing in the background. “I reassigned the scene. Is there a problem?”
“There is no problem,” I replied. “I simply asked how I can fix the scene—”
“I don’t have time to teach you how to do your job, Aubrey.”
“And I don’t need lessons,” I snapped back, my tone sharp.
An apology was on the tip of my tongue, but I couldn’t force myself to sink even lower and give it, especially not after being called out by Paul Crane for placating Ryan. Though I had been job hunting and interviewing, the fact of the matter remained that I needed this job. How could I hold on to my position when Ryan worked to take the job away from me?
“Excuse me?” Ryan’s reply came after a long pause. Perhaps it was the only comeback he had at the shock of my speaking up. Or he’d realized he’d gone too far.
I enjoyed his discomfort, but I chose my next words carefully. “I don’t need lessons on completing my work. If you have a problem, it’s in my contract to discuss it with you and Logan.”
“You would also know that it’s at your boss’s discretion to decide on the game.” He spoke too loudly, which I took as further proof that I had rattled him. “It’s how things work here. If you don’t think you can handle it, I’m sure I can set up a meeting with Logan to discuss your issues with our decision making about games we have been working on for years, that you’ve only been working on for the last year—”
“Eighteen months. A year and a half, Ryan,” I interrupted.
He plowed on, as if he hadn’t heard me. “Daniel has a better grasp of the technical needs for the final delivery. Logan and I have already agreed to move forward with him instead.”
I clenched my jaw. Since when was Daniel dependable? Despite the fact that he held the college degree, I corrected most of his work. I could also have pointed out that unpolished scenes would never have made it into a promotional video to land a high caliber client like Paul Crane, because that would have highlighted Ryan’s own incompetence. And that Ryan hadn’t stayed in Logan’s office long enough after the meeting to review the scene.
“What should I work on next?” I asked in a tone as light as a feather. I could use my change in approach as my new fail-safe to throw him off.
“I’ll speak with Logan and see what he wants you to do, but I know that Quality Assurance has been behind checking out the game. I’ll see if they need help next week.”
I pressed my lips together. No doubt he’d be the one to suggest I go there.
The line cut in, and he cursed. “Damn it, now my ex-wife is calling. I have to go.” And then he seemed to recall he was speaking to me, not one of his buddies at the office. “Aubrey, we have reassigned the scene. This conversation is over.” He hung up.
I cursed and tossed my cell phone into my backpack. There was nothing wrong with Quality Assurance—we all jumped in to help find bugs in the game to correct—but if Ryan was placing me there, it could only mean I was off the Absolution soundtrack project. We wouldn’t have enough work for two temps going into their next phase of the game. Did that mean I’d soon be out of a job as well?
Lost in my thoughts, I didn’t notice Logan had walked in until he knocked on the wall. “Am I interrupting?”
“No,” I said. “I was just checking on Outbreak. Ryan said you reassigned the scenes to Daniel today and that you need me to work in Quality Assurance next week.” My gaze turned hard, awaiting his confirmation of what he and Ryan had done.
Logan’s eyebrows pulled together. “If that’s what Ryan decided, then I’m one hundred percent behind him about Outbreak.”