Page 30 of Colin Gets Promoted and Dooms the World
Before I could respond, we arrived at the cafeteria, a huge space filled with the muffled cacophony of silverware and conversation. Most employees tended to self-segregate by floor when they ate there, so each circular table was a little island inhabited by a particular culture. The people in Client Services, for example, wore expensive suits, talked exclusively in corporate jargon, and literally never looked up from their phones, while the freaks who worked in Research and Development sketched plans on napkins and tinkered with objects of unknown (but probably sinister) function while everyone else kept their distance.
I hurried to collect a tray ahead of Deborah—yesterday I’d watched her hold up the line for five minutes while she asked the cafeteria employees questions like “Was this meat slain in battle?”—and, once I had my pierogies, I walked toward the table where Lydia was already sitting with two other people. She gave me a smile as I set down my tray in front of an empty chair, then returned to blotting a dark stain out of the frilly cuff of her blouse with a napkin. On the other side of the table, a white woman with long blond hair smiled as well before taking a dainty bite of the fruit on her plate. Next to her slouched an Asian man of about my age scrolling endlessly through his phone.
“Colin, this is Tamsin and Jianguo,” Lydia said in her low voice, nodding to each in turn. “Tamsin is the executive assistant for Ms.Obiakaeze in Transportation, and Jianguo works for Mr.Venables in the Repository. Colin is Ms.Crenshaw’s latest assistant.”
I smiled shyly at the others as I sank into my chair. Jianguo grunted without looking up from his phone, but Tamsin gave me aconsidering look. “So you’re up on thirteen,” she observed in what I thought was an Australian accent.
“I am, yeah.”
“I’ve heard that Crenshaw is seriously scary.”
I thought about it as I speared a pierogi on my fork. “She is,” I agreed. “What’s Ms.Obiakaeze like?”
Tamsin swept her hair back over one shoulder. “Fine, I suppose. I thought there would be more travel, working in Transportation, but all I do is draw up schedules.” Her lips curved into a moue of displeasure. “It’s not very exciting unless a visitor goes on a rampage or accidentally engulfs someone. Even then, I just end up doing a ton of paperwork.”
Nibbling a pierogi, I tried to look sympathetic.
“Take last week, for example. Two idiots from Human Resources fell through a gateway to the Stygian Maw.”
I choked a little and reached for my water.
“I have no idea what they were even doing in Transportation to begin with, and then they fall into literally the worst realm in existence.” Tamsin rolled her eyes. “I had to submit atonof paperwork after that. Plus, Kettering’s assistant kept calling me and demanding answers, as ifIwould have any.”
A shiver went through me, a hint of foreboding, just before she looked over my shoulder and added sourly, “Speak of the devil.”
With a hint of familiar cologne, Sunil sank into the chair next to mine, teeth bared in a wolfish, unfriendly smile. My fork fell from fingers gone suddenly numb, clattering onto my plate.
“Look who it is,” Sunil said. “Harris, the CEO’s bitch-boy.”
Tamsin’s pointed features lit up with something like glee as hergaze flicked from Sunil to me and back again. “You two know each other?”
“Oh yeah,” he agreed without taking his eyes off me. “I was his boss until a couple of weeks ago.”
“You weren’t my boss,” I mumbled, staring at the table.
“What’s that, Harris?”
Trying to calm the butterflies raging in my abdomen, I turned to look at him. “You weren’t my boss,” I repeated, more clearly. “Ms.Kettering was.”
Sunil snorted and turned to his plate. “Whatever, bro.” Grabbing his chicken sandwich, he took an enormous bite and then chewed while looking around the table, somehow managing to look attractive and confident while doing so. “Hey, Tamsin,” he said around a mouthful of food, “you ever find out what Abbott and Friedrichs were doing on the fifth floor?”
“For the last time,” Tamsin replied, sounding irritated, “I have no idea. They wereyourpeople. Maybe keep better track of them.”
Sunil swallowed and then sat back in his chair with a scowl. “Well, it’s really fucked things up in HR. And on top of that, I have another analyst who keeps screaming whenever anyone walks up behind her. Kettering is riding my ass.”
A vicious, deeply inappropriate reply bubbled up from somewhere inside me, but before I could speak, Lydia said, “Oh, there’s Deborah!” and lifted a hand to wave the other woman over.
“What are you doing?” Tamsin snapped softly. “We’ll have to listen to more stories about her years in the Abyss. I don’t know about you,” she added, turning to me, “but I find her so boring now.”
Boringwas not a word I would have applied to Deborah. Turning my head, I watched as she caught sight of Lydia and veered in our direction, dropping her tray onto our table with a bang beforeslinging herself into a chair. Her eyes darted from one of us to the other, then to the rest of the room as she hunched over and started eating ravenously. The rest of us watched in an uncomfortable silence, apart from Jianguo, who had yet to look up from his phone. Unspoken, though probably foremost in all our thoughts, was the understanding that any one of us could suffer the same fate she had, or worse. The life of an executive assistant was not without its perils.
Shuddering delicately, Tamsin popped a cube of melon into her mouth and chewed as she studied me. “So how did you land a spot with Crenshaw?” she finally asked, clearly doing her best to ignore Deborah. “I’d do anything to work for the CEO.”
I shrugged uncomfortably and kept my gaze on my pierogies. “Just lucky, I guess.”
“C’mon, you can tell us,” Sunil said, leaning toward me with a feral grin. “Who’d you blow to make that happen?”
From his other side, Lydia murmured disapprovingly, “Language.” Then she licked the napkin she was holding before scrubbing vigorously at the bloodstained cuff of her blouse.
