Oh, shit. He was using my fake phone call against me. Judging by the delight on his face, he had figured out it was bogus and was now fully prepared to humiliate me with it.
“New account?” Soph asked. She looked so hopeful that I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t pretend that I’d had a client and lost them or even more outrageously admit that the entire call had been a sham to keep Carson off my back when I was fifteen minutes late.
See? This is the thing with lies; they’re like the law. You can never truly escape them. This is why I never lied and why I’d been kicking myself ever since that awkward moment at the elevator. I’d have been better served to let Carson rat me out for being late that day, but I’d panicked. Well, lesson learned. Still, I couldn’t disappoint Soph. I decided I’d better find a new client and fast.
I forced my face into a big grin and said, “Well, we’re still working out the details but I’ll loop you in as soon as there’s good news.”
“Excellent,” Soph said.
I don’t think I imagined the triumphant look she sent Miguel. I glanced at Carson. He looked annoyed. So there was that. Mercifully, the meeting ended shortly after that.
As we exited the room, I waited for Carson to leave and then asked Luz and Booker to follow me. They exchanged a look and then nodded. Once the three of us were inside my office, I closed the door. They took the seats across from me as I sat behind my desk. I folded my hands and considered them. I wasn’t sure how to go about asking them what I needed to know, but it was clear I needed information, and from what I’d observed, they were my best access points.
“Contrary to what was said in the meeting, I never received any information about Schneider Pretzels.” I paused then glanced at both of them, and they exchanged another meaningful look. “From what I’ve observed, I don’t think either of you are surprised by this.”
“Carson is trying to sabotage you,” Booker said.
“He wanted to be creative director and pitched a complete hissy fit when he didn’t get it,” Luz added.
I nodded. “He’s let his feelings be known to me. That’s fine. He doesn’t have to like me, but I won’t stand for his sabotaging the work.”
“You should tell Miguel and Sophie,” Luz said.
“I would,” I agreed, “but there seems to be a difference of opinion about Carson in-house. Miguel wanted him for my job but Soph convinced him, sort of, to hire me instead.”
“But Carson’s not qualified,” Booker said. He raised his hands as if imploring the gods to help him understand why Carson would even be considered. “He’s not the best graphic designer, and he has terrible management skills. Being a creative director is all about solving the client’s problems, new business pitches, and bringing innovative ideas to the table. He has none of that. He just wants to quaff beers on the golf course with clients and then offload the rest of the work onto his assistant.”
“So exactly what he does now but for a bigger check,” Luz said. “Working for him is a nightmare.”
“Why haven’t you told Miguel and Sophie?” I asked.
“Because Carson said he’d get me fired if I went over his head, and he’s tight enough with Miguel that I think he’ll do it,” Luz said.
“You could leave,” I said.
“No, I love my job, I love my team, and I really believe Vasquez Squared is going places. Why should I leave because of him?”
“Fair point. All right, so that I can be prepared, in what way is he awful?” I asked. “Other than what I already know?”
“Do you remember when you were in school and you had to do group projects?” Luz asked.
I nodded.
“There was always one team member who didn’t do any work, but in the end took all of the credit?” Booker added.
I cringed. “He’s the slacker.”
“Exactly,” Booker said. “But he’s even worse, because he overpromises and then underdelivers, as in delivers nothing at all, and everyone else has to scramble to make it right with the client.”
“What he did to you today, he’s done to me, too. I almost lost my job because of him,” Luz said.
“He hasn’t pulled that with me,” Booker said. “But if he’d been promoted to creative director, I would have quit.”
“How have Miguel and Soph not noticed this?” I asked.
“Oh, Sophie knows,” Luz said. “I think that’s why you’re here.”
“As for Miguel.” Booker paused and shrugged. “His bro code runs deep, and he simply can’t see his old fraternity buddy clearly.”
“All right,” I said. “Thanks for sharing all of that with me. I know it’s uncomfortable to talk negatively about coworkers.”
Luz smiled at me. “In this case, it’s a relief. I was a little worried you’d get taken in by him, too. Half the staff despises him—”
“The ones he’s screwed over,” Booker jumped in. Luz gave him a look, and he pressed his lips together.
“And the other half adores him,” Luz said. “It can be hard to know where the loyalties lie in regards to him.”
“Thanks for the heads-up,” I said.
She nodded and I glanced at both of them. “So do either of you have a minute to get me up to speed on the pretzel company? I have to come in fully prepared with guns blazing for tomorrow.”
Thank heavens they did, and we spent the next hour brainstorming. I worked through the day, taking a break for lunch, which I spent tracking down Sophie.
I did a sweep of the office, checking with Nyah first to find out if she had any meetings. She did not. Then I checked the restaurant upstairs, the staff lounge, and the break room. No sign of her. Hmm. On a hunch, I went to the bathroom.
Vasquez Squared had four unisex bathrooms, two on each side of the building. I got lucky on the second door on which I knocked.
“Just a minute,” she said.
“It’s me,” I called. “Open up. There’s nothing I haven’t seen in there.”
I heard a snort and then the sound of the door unlocking.
The bathrooms had all been designed as multipurpose lounge rooms. Seriously there was a divan and an armchair in the front room, with the facilities, sink and toilet, behind another door at the back. Soph had wanted nursing moms to have a private place to pump or nurse as she and Miguel had agreed babies were welcome in the office until they were moving on their own power. And the lounger was big enough for a person to catch a nap if they’d pulled an all-nighter, which was a frequent occurrence in the graphic arts.