Page 23 of The Grump I Loathe
“And then bam!” Eddie cried. “The escape pod hits the side of the ship. And bam again! Juni falls through the ceiling. Flux is pissed. And Juni’s all like ‘nothing to see here.’”
Wait…I frowned. She was talking about work?
Eddie’s hands shot into the air, explaining with her usual dramatics, and the team was lapping it up, big smiles on their faces. My thoughts drifted to Ali. She was passionate about gaming, and her enthusiasm could be contagious, but people had never looked at her likethat.
“At the same time,” Eddie continued, “Flux realizes it’s a distraction, and we set the escape plan in motion. Let’s infuse some comedy into this sequence because the next sequence is going to be an emotional gut punch.”
A strange twist flitted through my chest as I watched Eddie. I couldn’t help but be impressed with her for the way she drew people in and crafted the story, using her whole body to bring the world to life. The way she moved when she talked—hands gesturing, hips swaying slightly as she turned—had me transfixed like a damn idiot. When she leaned over the desk to point at something, I had to make a very conscious effort to keep my eyes on her face and focus on her words.
I had to admit she was good at her job. I just wished she’d channel all that into more productive means of working. I let my gaze linger for a second longer—a second too long—before wrenching my eyes away.Coffee! That’s what I wanted.
“Hey, boss!” Eddie called before I managed to slip away. “Where’re you running off to? The party’s right here. You can sit if you like.” She pretended to dust off a spot on her desk. “Unless you’re worriedyou might actually enjoy yourself so much that you crack your scowl.”
I gave her a flat glare. Why did everything have to be a production with her? I stalked forward and smiles around her faded, several people making the wise decision to edge back to their cubicles.
That strange tightness in my chest returned as Eddie crossed her arms, staring up at me with pursed lips. There was something so challenging about the look. Something that made me want to reach out, drag her into my arms and?—
“Before everyone heads out for lunch, make sure you log off and lock your computers,” I said, defaulting to boss mode. “I hope you haven’t already forgotten about the training we did on digital security.”
A few guilty faces peeled away. My gaze returned to Eddie. “Why did the entire floor need an explanation of a scene only a handful will have a role in implementing?”
Eddie opened her mouth to answer, but I cut her off. “That answer belongs behind closed doors,Edith.”
The rest of the lingering team got the hint and scattered like rodents fleeing at the first sign of trouble and leaving the two of us alone. With everyone gone, I got a good look at the walls of her cubicle, which had been covered in brightly colored art and drawings and sticky notes.
“Admiring my wall of inspiration?” she asked.
My eyebrow arched. “Is that what you call it?” To me, it looked like eye-searing chaos. How could she concentrate on anything when her desk was soloud?
“I had to putsomethingup, or I would’ve died of boredom in this concrete tower.”
“Concrete tower?” I gestured across the floor. “There’s literally a luxury lounge area and gourmet snacks in the kitchenette.”
“Yes, where everything is also gray or black.”
“What does that matter?” I knew I didn’t have a great sense for interior design. Grace had helped decorate the house we’d bought after the divorce, and I was happy with whatever made her happy—even if it included more pink than I might have thought was necessary.
But at work, it was more important for things to be functional. I always had the easiest time working in an unfussy, uncluttered space with neutral colors. Wasn’t that the same for everyone? “This is your workplace, not your living room.”
“It obviously does matter what things look like,” Eddie argued, “or all games would still look likePong.”
“The advancement of graphic design and the walls of your cubicle aren’t the same thing.”
“And yet they both spark joy,” Eddie pointed out.
“This conversation is not sparking joy,” I growled. On the wall I spotted a picture of a rat holding a piece of cheese. Underneath, it said,Have a gouda day!“What is that?”
Eddie gave me a wicked grin. “Mr. Cheesers. The team mascot.”
Mr. Cheesers? Christ. I rubbed at the tension headache building behind my eyes.
“You good, boss?” Eddie asked. “Not having an aneurysm, are you?”
“Just trying to figure out how I always end up sucked into your dimension of nonsense.”
She smirked. “Maybe you like it.”
“I definitely donot.” I might.
