“Welcome to the fish bowl.” With a flourish, Deb opened a glass door into a glass-walled room, bordered on three sides by cubicles and on a fourth by a walkway running between the conference room and a wall of windows.
Whoa. Was this all mine? It wasn’t huge, but it was...a room. A space. For me. At least whenever I was working on this project. Since no one was using the walkway, I had the illusion of my own windows, looking out on—well, yeah, looking out on the building across the street mostly, but some legit natural light was getting through too.
I sent Deb a very accusatory look and said in my best accusatory tone, “Are you trying to seduce me, Mrs. Robinson? With your windows?”
“Yes, Declan. You’ve figured out my master plan. I’m giving you temporary access to a room with windows in the hopes that you’ll never leave me.” She pushed in a stray chair and gestured to the room. “It’s not huge, but I decided you needed a home base and nobody wants to have a meeting in the fish bowl, so it goes mostly unused.”
“What, people don’t like the feeling that they’re in an aquarium?”
“I have no idea what the designer was thinking. Every other conference room has at least three solid walls.”
“Maybe it’s the punishment conference room!” I grinned at her. “You can put the troublemakers in here so they can’t get away with anything.”
“Perfect.”
“Hey!”
She smiled. “The opposite tends to happen. This room is something of a psychological dead zone. I’m not entirely sure why, but it’s as if people go out of their way to not-notice it, possibly projecting that they wouldn’t want to be stared at if they were stationed here.”
“That’s neat.” I looked around with a greater appreciation for the fish bowl. “What I’m hearing is I can get away with anything in here.”
“Is that what I said?” The smile stayed on her face, so at least we were playing. “I have someone getting you a laptop and since you’ll be responsible for it, I’m also giving you a key to this room. You’ll have to sign for that downstairs in Admin.”
I blinked. “A key?”
“It seemed the simplest way to ensure no one would disturb your workspace.” She shrugged. “We don’t have a lot of high value theft around here with all the cameras and security measures, but I’d still rather not leave a laptop sitting in an unlocked room.”
“Um. Yeah, makes sense.”
She stared at me for a long moment. “It’s a temporary assignment. Don’t be scared.”
“You’re giving me a key, though.” I waved my hands around in a somewhat freaked-out fashion.
“Declan.”
I braced for a pep talk about how I could leave at any time after the event, and no pressure, and she was there to support me. I looked at Deb, feeling my heart speed up in anticipation of nodding pleasantly while she mouthed inane inspirational quotes at me.
“If you don’t return the key by end of business the day after the event, you’re fired. Does that help?”
Not a pep talk. I exhaled. “Actually, yeah. It kinda does. Temporary key holder exclusively for this project, got it.”
“Good.” She walked to the far right corner. “I grabbed you a small file cabinet and a garbage can. We can requisition anything else you need. I threw some random office supplies in the file cabinet, but you know where they’re kept if you need more.”
“Got it,” I said again.
“Good. You got my email about hours and time codes?”
I was super tempted to say Got it one more time, but I was a temporary key holder now, and needed to compose myself as such. So I saluted and said, “Aye, captain.”
“Let me know if you have any questions. Oh, good, here’s Jack.” She went to open the door for the guy walking up.
Pale pale skin, dark dark hair, barely taller than Deb, and I liked his smile for the split second I saw it, before he spotted me. The smile slid off his face like egg yolk slides down a window. Not that I’ve thrown a lot of eggs at windows. But that’s how I’ve always pictured it: a slick, messy slide.
Unsmiling, this guy was totally Dire Man on Barstool Who’s Played “Piano Man” on the Jukebox Seven Times in a Row.
“Jack, this is Declan. Declan, Jack.”
We eyed each other. I had no idea why I suddenly felt defensive, but I did.
He turned back to Deb. “Are you pranking me? He’s a kid.”
Her eyes narrowed. Even though I was smarting from being called a kid, I had enough presence of mind to wince at Deb’s expression. Dire Jack’s only reaction was his face going very still for a second before resuming animation on its way back toward me.
He sighed as if my very presence was a tremendous disappointment. “Do you know anything about the event we’re planning?”
“I, um, don’t think we’ve gotten to that yet?”
“It’s the annual stockholders’ luncheon,” Deb explained to both of us. “Around here we refer to it as ‘The Spring Fling,’ but don’t let anyone important hear you call it that.”
Eep. “Okay.”
Deb studied us for a long moment. “Jack will be reporting directly to you, Declan.”
Boss say what?
“I expect you to collaborate on this event and divide your tasks according to your skills and strengths. Since you have prior supervisory experience, you are the lead coordinator for the Fling. Don’t hesitate to contact me if you have questions or concerns about this or the rest of your job duties.”
Jack’s mouth tensed. Which, um...yeah. Because he was at least five years older than me and now I was kind of his boss somehow? Yikes.
“Got it, captain,” I told Deb, thinking, Oh my god, how am I going to get anything done with this guy hating on me so hard?
She might have withheld an eye-roll. I couldn’t be sure. “I suggest you start by grabbing a desk calendar and stealing a whiteboard from one of the other conference rooms. Declan needs to be briefed about the event and caught up with where you are in the planning, Jack.”
Jeez, he’d already started planning and now I was being brought in? This was the worst. Maybe for both of us.
“Understood.” Jack’s voice was tight like he was clenching his teeth.
“I’m so pleased. Both of you will have keys to this room, but you will be the only ones with keys to this room. If anything happens, you’re sharing responsibility for it.”