Natalie was flustered, which I could tell by the way her long eyelashes fluttered. Her eyelashes are nearly twice as long as mine and much darker in color. Also, she doesn’t hide them behind glasses the way I do. She started babbling about how she could make that money back easily, and that it’s an investment.
But it’s not true, and I said as much. I have carefully collected data. I love numbers because numbers don’t lie. And the numbers show that most of these lunches don’t result in twenty-five sales or more. The stores usually agree to stock a small amount of the product to see if it sells. On average, they purchased one case, which is sixteen bottles. So every lunch loses money for us.
When I finished talking, Seth was stroking his chin. He’s always clean-shaven at the beginning of the day, but by the afternoon, he always has some hair on his jaw. As he stroked his chin, he kept saying, “Interesting, interesting.”
Natalie wasn’t convinced though. She started talking about how in the short term, the sales might not justify the expense, but in the long term, it does. Except that’s just wrong. And I told her so.
“Well,” she said, “maybe once you’ve made a sale, you’d be in a better position to weigh in.”
I didn’t understand what she meant by that. I had a good idea to save the company money. I could tell Seth thought so too. And anyway, how could I make a sale? I’m an accountant.
So I suppose it wasn’t a complete success. Natalie didn’t seem to agree with me, but that was only because she hasn’t looked at the numbers. I tried to show her later, but she waved me off. Seth told me he was going to think about it though. I reminded him that he could save the company tens of thousands of dollars.
Of course, you’re the first person I want to tell about what a great job I did! You’re the only person who gets it. Even my parents didn’t really care about any of my achievements. When I first moved out of their house, I would sometimes call to tell them about how things were going for me, but I don’t do that much anymore. And then of course, that heart attack took my father, and now that he’s gone, my mother has become even more critical of everything I do. You think she was bad before? She’s much worse now.
For example, if I told her about the meeting, she would probably agree with Natalie. She would say that Natalie knows what she’s talking about better than I do. So I should keep my mouth shut because nobody wants to listen to me anyway.
You’re the only one who doesn’t criticize me. When we were in high school, every day my mother would pick on me. Why did I wear clothes that looked like they belonged to an old lady? Why did I always cut my hair so short? How come I never smiled? But when I showed up to school and saw you, you always had something nice to say about me. For example, when I got that turtle charm for my backpack, you were the first person to notice it and tell me how much you liked it. You never asked me why I never smiled, because when we were together, I actually felt like smiling.
I wish you would come to visit soon. I miss you.
Usually, I love being at home at night. I do live alone, but you know me—I appreciate quiet. There’s nothing worse than too much noise. I live in a small two-bedroom, one-bathroom, single-story house in a quiet neighborhood in Quincy. Remember how much my mother hated my room when we were kids? Yet another thing she loved to pick on. She hated my turtle figurines and turtle posters. She thought I should put up posters of boy bands “like normal kids.” But in my own house, I can do whatever I want. When you come here, I’ll give you the grand tour.
For the most part, my furnishings are simple—a sofa purchased at a discount furniture store, a coffee table, a television. I have two bookcases, one of which is filled with books, and the other is filled with turtles. Turtle figurines, stuffed turtles—you name it. The centerpiece is a large ceramic turtle I purchased a couple of years ago that’s about the size of a basketball. You don’t have to worry about me being burglarized because if I had an intruder in my house, I could clock him on the head with that turtle and do some serious damage.
Also, I don’t live entirely alone. I’ve got Junior. Well, her full name is Mia Junior. Yes, that’s right, I named her after you! She is a Mississippi Map turtle. Turtles make great pets, and you know I’ve always wanted one.
Every night, I feed Junior a few of her turtle pellets. That makes up most of her diet, although sometimes I’ll purchase some dried crickets to provide her with a little variety. Three or four times a week, I’ll add in some leafy greens. Junior isn’t a big eater, but I want her to have a well-rounded diet. I can’t wait for you to meet her. I think you two will really hit it off.
Sincerely,
Dawn Schiff
To: Dawn Schiff
From: Mia Hodge
Subject: Re: Greetings
I’m so proud of you for kicking butt at that meeting. George is excited for you too! Don’t let yourself get intimidated… you are way better than that!
And don’t worry—I will be there to visit you before you know it. Let me check my calendar and get back to you about some potential dates.
XXO
Mia
Chapter Thirteen
PRESENT DAY
NATALIE
When I get back to my cubicle, my phone is ringing. I’m not in the mood to talk to anybody, but I do have a job to do and maybe this will get my mind off everything going on. And when I recognize Carmen Salinas‘s number, I know it won’t be an unpleasant call. Making a sale today would give me a lift.
“Natalie!” Carmen gushes when she hears my voice. “I heard about what happened at your company! About that woman who went missing. Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.” I swallow a lump in my throat. “It’s just been a long day.”
“I can’t imagine! Do they have any idea what happened to her?”
Despite everything, I almost laugh. Leave it to Carmen to call in search of gossip. But she’s not going to hear any of it from me. “I’m afraid not.”
“Oh my…” Carmen lets out a long sigh, and I can almost imagine her toying with the many strings and beads that she always wears around her neck. I’ve never seen that woman wearing less than five necklaces at a time. “I don’t even work there, but the whole thing is making me stressed out. I can’t even imagine how you must feel!”
“You should take a few capsules of LoStress,” I tell her. “That product works miracles for anxiety. We’ve gotten nothing but great feedback.”
“You know what, honey? I think we’re fresh out. Do you think you could bring by a case of it later today?”
I can read Carmen’s mind. She’s hoping to pump me for more information about Dawn’s disappearance later today, not that I expect to know anything more. Unfortunately, our stock is low at the moment, and LoStress is always a big seller. I’ve personally sold more of it than anyone else at the company. It makes me feel good that I’m helping people reduce their stress. How many people get to say that they truly help others at their jobs?