“Hi, guys,” I said uncertainly.
“Hey,” Mark said. “It’s standard practice, us scaring the hell out of new co-workers.”
“It’s always his idea,” Matthew said.
His brother chuckled and elbowed him. “Yeah? Who was it who said he’d go and hide while I came in to tell our new receptionist about lunchtime?”
Matthew laughed. “Okay, I confess. We had to.”
Laughing delightedly, I held out my hand to the brother I hadn’t met yet. “Hi, Mark. I’m Amelia.”
“Hi, Amelia,” he said. He squeezed my hand warmly, and I saw a twinkle in his eye. He seemed to be more playful than Matthew, who struck me as a quieter type. I smiled back.
“Nice to meet you.”
I sat down again, and Mark chuckled.
“See you around,” he said. “We usually have lunch on-site. In the yard, on nice days. Like this one.”
“Great,” I said. “I’ll join you now.”
They were chuckling as they went out, and Mark clapped Matthew on the back. Evidently, playing tricks on people was something that had not lost its appeal, no matter their age.
I couldn’t help smiling.
As I tidied up the last of the clutter on the desk, planning to tackle the rest of the receipts after lunchtime, it occurred to me that I had nothing to eat. I had not, after all, planned on being employed today. I felt my stomach twitch with hunger, and I realized that I had to do something about the situation before I lost all ability to think straight.
I wandered out into the shop.
“Miss!” A young man said. His eyes were round with surprise and a certain appreciation that, in spite of myself, I appreciated. I smiled.
“Hello,” I said. He wasn’t one of the mechanics I’d met. He was a thinner, pale-blond man where the other Brands were stockier and had the same pale brown hair, touched with blond in the sunlight. This guy gave me a nervous smile. He seemed younger than Matt or Mark, though that might have been his manner.
“Hi,” he replied. “Um… can I help you? Reception’s that way.”
I grinned, and a voice spoke from behind me.
“She’s just come from there!” Matthew laughed as he walked up behind us. “She’s working here.”
“Really?” The tall young man stared at me, and I had to laugh.
“It’s not so strange, is it? I mean, somebody has to take calls around here,” I said to him with a sweet smile.
“Oh!” the young man looked relieved. “You’re the secretary! Hi! Welcome.”
“She’s the receptionist, Adam,” Mark said, coming in from outside with an oily rag in one hand. “And this guy is Adam Barnes, Amelia,” he finished, fixing Adam with a firm stare.
“Hi,” he said again. He held out his hand nervously.
I shook it. “Amelia Rose,” I said firmly. His hand was also surprisingly strong, though nothing like that of the boss. I steeled my thoughts against visiting thoughts of him. He was none of my business.
“We’re just heading out to the store,” Matthew said. I was already starting to notice differences between his twin brother and him. Not only were they dressed differently, but their faces were subtly and noticeably different. This difference reflected, I thought, their unique personalities. Matthew was sweet and quiet, and Mark had a lively, almost bad boy character.
“There’s a store nearby?” I was genuinely surprised. When I had walked to the shop this morning, I had not noticed anything except parking lots and abandoned, run-down buildings.
Mark laughed. “It is a surprise, I guess. But there’s a store around the corner. We always go there. Us, and the guys from the warehouse. I think we’re about all the people who ever go there.”
“Probably. Have you ever seen anybody else eating sandwiches like the ones we ate yesterday?”
I had to laugh as Mark launched himself at his brother and cuffed the back of his head. Matthew gave a playful yell. Adam was laughing as the two young men, still horsing around, walked out through the door. I followed them out, thinking they had forgotten about me, but Matthew turned around and waved at me to join them.
“Come on… it’s not really that bad. They have some stuff in packets there that isn’t actually poisonous.”
Mark gave me a winning grin. “Say, you have some money, right?”
I nodded, touched to see both Matthew and Mark reaching into their pockets to suggest they would cover my lunch. “Thanks, guys. It’s okay,” I said softly as I pointed to my purse.
As I followed the three men outside and across the parking lot, I was surprised to find that my eyes were a little misty. I really was moved by their generosity. Not just because it looked like they had very little money of their own to spare, but because they were being genuinely nice. Why was their older brother so rude? I thought somewhat sadly.
I hope I do not have to see him too often.
I wondered if he also went to the store to buy some lunch, or if he made his own arrangements. Maybe he didn’t eat human food. What did Incredible Hulks eat?
I wanted to laugh. I glanced around and noticed Matt, Mark, and Adam were getting ahead of me. I half-ran to catch up to them, looking around at the shop as I saw a silhouette in the doorway. Was it him?
“Hey, Amelia. You look stressed,” Mark said.
“Not really,” I replied. “Just wondering if the boss is going to join us?”
“Oh! Carter?” Mark chuckled.
“We won’t tell him you called him the boss,” Matthew added.
“No. His head’s too big as it is,” Mark chuckled.
I wanted to laugh, but I wasn’t sure if it was appropriate—after all, I wasn’t family. Nevertheless, I couldn’t stop myself from smiling. Adam grinned.
“It’s not easy, thinking of him as the boss. He’s one of us, see.”
I nodded, but inside I was far from sure. I followed them into the store. I could see that all of them were very at home here, and they all clearly had a strong working relationship with Carter. I myself saw his arrogance. And his dismissiveness. And I didn’t like those qualities in anybody.
We ate our sandwiches in the sunshine in the yard by the wall. After lunch, we went inside to resume our work. I could still taste the tomato and cheese from the sandwich I’d eaten. I was already starting to feel at home here.
“Amelia?” a voice said from outside the door. I tensed up.
“Yes?” I answered.
“Could you check this letter?”
I frowned. He looked away uncomfortably. “What is it?” I asked. I guess editing his correspondence was another one of my job duties.
“It’s a request,” he said, still not meeting my gaze. “For a spare part.”
“You have to request them?” I asked, somewhat surprised. Why did he not just fill out a form, or order them over the Internet?
“Well, this one’s a special one.” He waved the letter, typed out, in front of me. “Read it. You’ll see what I mean.”
“Fine,” I said, taking the piece of paper. “It would be easier to correct it if I knew why you had to write it.”
He shot me a look as if I had asked him for a raise, and then he turned around and walked out.