Page 10 of From Fling to Ring

Gilly pipes up. “Yeah, Petal, just chalk it up to the thong panty that’s torturing Lucy’s buttcrack.”

Petal holds her hands up. “TMI!” she yells.

I catch Tyler’s eye on the way out and he looks away quickly.

Nice.

Why the hell did he ask me to dinner if he can’t even look at me? He couldn’t possibly be interested. I am so not in his league.

Although, that’s what Petal thought about Rake at one time, and look at them now, so lovey-dovey it could make you sick to watch. But Rake didn’t give off the major player vibes Tyler does. And he certainly never looked around a party for someone hotter to talk to.

I’m not offended. I’m really not. In fact, I’m grateful to the guy. He just gave me an idea for a new assignment, something way bigger than just an interview with a little weekly paper.

4

LUCY

Because we have to be at work early, I make sure to get to the office by eight-fifty, baked goods in hand. Lucky for me, there’s an old-school donut shop on my block, the kind that isn’t outrageously expensive, and which gives you your purchases in one of those pink boxes I love so much.

I am the first one in the conference room, so I set the donuts in the middle of the table, as well as a pile of napkins next to it, and take first pick.

I just love a chocolate old-fashioned.

With the smell of fresh baked goods floating through the office, the conference room fills and before long, the pink box is empty.

That’s a good thing, though. I don’t want to be chowing on leftover refined flour and saturated fat all day.

Michaela bustles in, long hair billowing, her perfume filling the room. Notwithstanding the turd she laid on me yesterday, I sit up straight in my chair, pen poised on paper, ready to jot down anything important. Sarge, seated just across from me, is amused like he pretty much always is. I don’t blame him. He’s been at this so long, he’s as cynical as they come. Me, on the other hand? Corny as it sounds, there are days I still come to work with a spring in my step.

“Welcome, everyone,” Michaela says. “And thank you to whomever set aside this donut for me.” She points at the jelly-filled concoction I put in front of her regular seat.

Yes, that was me. But I say nothing.

“I want to thank you for getting here on time. I know we’re not used to early mornings around here, but I wouldn’t have asked you to come in if it weren’t important.”

She takes the time to look around the table, greeting each and every one of us with her gaze. It’s one of the things I like best about her, and if I ever get to be the boss of anything, I’m going to do that too, look my employees in the eyes and make them feel special.

“I’m going to dive right in, if nobody minds. I recently met with our accountant—I’d like to never think about such grown-up matters, just like you probably would not. It’s a drag. But duty calls and so we discussed, among other things, the paper’s expenses, circulation, ad revenues, etcetera.”

The two people who run our ads department are huddled at the end of the table. They know something, I have no doubt, because they are avoiding looking at any of us.

“In a nutshell, folks, we’re spending more than we’re taking in. As you know, the pandemic reduced our ad revenues a great deal, and we are still trying to make up for that loss. Even as we’ve shifted to mostly online, we’re still in the red.”

She looks around the room at the now-pale faces. Sarge, stuffing the last of his donut in his mouth, is the only person who looks like he could give a crap about anything.

“Soooo… what does that mean for you, you might be asking?”

Michaela pauses, but we all know where she’s going. It’s simple, logical, and straightforward.

If you are spending more than you are taking in, you need to either spend less… or take in more.

Basic math.

And I bet she’s on the path of spending less, which means some people on the staff will be going bye-bye.

I know this from the looks on the faces of the ad sales guys. Pretty sure she’s wrung out of them all she can get. So, without increased revenue, somebody or somebodies sitting at this table are gone.

I shouldn’t jinx myself, but I sincerely doubt my head is one of the ones on the chopping block. Yes, that sounds arrogant, but Michaela loves me. We are kindred spirits. I imagine always being at her side, no matter where she works. Especially if she can promise me no more assignments having to do with old naked men or dirty bathrooms.

---