Page 15 of My Secret Snowflake
“No,” I say quickly. Too quickly. Iris pulls back. But I’d just taken a huge bite of gnocchi when Melody told me she thought we should just be friends. All taste left, and the bite became a huge soggy mess of dough in my mouth that was impossible to swallow. Like my mouth was a cement mixer. I haven’t had gnocchi since.
“How about StuffIt on 10thAvenue?” I ask. “I’ll sign up in the meantime. Will you help me pick gifts for whomever I get?”
“I love that place. Definitely.” She gets up to leave. “Let’s meet in the lobby at one.”
Ifinishthelastof my edits on this contract and send it back to my counterparty. An email from Ernest pops up, asking me if I’m free for lunch today. I let him know I’m meeting Iris instead.
My phone rings.
“Iris?" Ernest asks. "The stunning dark-haired woman in the cybersecurity department? How’d you score that?”
I frown. That’s a little crass.
“She’s friends with Rupert’s girlfriend.”
“The librarian?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, so this is a friend thing?”
“Yes,” I say.
“Can you introduce me to her?”
Is Iris interested in Ernest? Because he is clearly keen on her. Is that why she noticed he and I have been eating together in the cafeteria lately? I should do some due diligence on Ernest, given that Iris is Lily’s friend. Part of the same friend circle. Like I’d do due diligence on anyone my sister dated.
“I thought you were dating someone,” I say.
“I was, but it didn’t work out. Mother didn’t like her. Is Iris also a bookworm?” Ernest asks.
“I don’t know. I don’t know her that well,” I say. “Why? Do you consider yourself a bookworm?” Books would be a good gift.
“Not really, but Mother is very fond of reading romances.”
Not sure how that relates, but okay.
AtStuffIt,IrisandI each order a tinga de pollo burrito and sit with our drinks at a table against a bright-turquoise side wall. Colorful Mexican tiles adorn the counter in the center of the restaurant. Mariachi music plays on low volume in the background. It smells of frying tortillas and simmering tomatoes. Several customers sit at the counter.
“I thought nobody knew about this place. I never see anyone from the company here,” I say. It’s one of the best deals in the neighborhood. Maybe Bob is right that I need to meet more colleagues.
“I usually pick it up and eat at my desk. And the production guys regularly order from here for delivery.”
We compare notes on other affordable options in the neighborhood, and I manage to impress Iris with one that she didn’t know of before. The waiter places our two plates down in front of us. We’re both silent as we take some time to eat our lunch.
“What made you want to work at Dream Company?” she asks. “Zeke mentioned you were very well-respected at Capital.”
“My job there was great, especially my boss, but this seemed to offer more opportunities for promotion,” I say. “Bob said he plans to retire in two years, so he’d train me and then I’d take over as the GC. There was no way I was going to become the GC at Capital anytime soon. My boss would be first in line, plus both the Capital GC and Associate GC are in their late fifties, so they could be there for another ten years. Why did you come work here?”
“Raphael recruited me. I met him at a competition—he was one of the judges—and he seemed like he’d be a great boss. And he is. We work well together, and he gives me much more responsibility than I might have in another job. Especially since as the company grows, the information security team will grow, and I’ve been in since inception.”
She doesn’t know. Yet. I think the L’Etoile news is still confidential.
I bite my lip. I finish the last of my chicken burrito. A group of young people walk in, and Iris waves to them. She notes that they’re from Production Design.
“Who’d you get as your Secret Snowflake recipient?” she asks.
“Someone named Anita?”
