My happy evaporated like drops of water in the Texas sun when I heard the condescending tone of Victoria Morris, the clinical director of the after-school program, behind me. For a second I considered just ignoring her, but I knew that would only make her that much harder to deal with later and I could not afford drama with staff right now. I turned and tried my best to at least look civil, because with this woman pleasant was simply not a possibility.
Victoria, or as she liked to be addressed, Vicki “with an i,” was an interesting character. Today she was dressed in a white cotton tunic with multicolored floral embroidery on the collar and hem. Vicki liked to wear “ethnic” fashions, and she made sure to let us know it was her way of seeming more approachable to our clients, “you know, because it’s something familiar.” One just had to make sure never to ask her where the shirts were from.
Never mind she couldn’t tell between students who came from Mexico and those who came from Central America, and loved to make sweeping statements about “them.”
I schooled my face into some kind of a smile and put my phone away as she approached. “Did I forget something?”
She waved a hand in the space between us and shook her head. “Oh no.” Her tone was sickly sweet and it was very hard not to roll my eyes at her. “I was just wondering how things were going with the consultant? If there’s anything I can do, let me know. If he wants to meet clients, I can call them up and tell them to be ready for Monday.”
I literally did a double take, because she could not be implying that she was calling clients on the weekends.
“Vicki, I don’t think that’s appropriate.” I sighed and regrouped. “The consultant already did a visit.” Fuck, now she would be pissed that I never told her Rocco was coming. “We are not having him walk in on clients during therapy.”
She narrowed her eyes at me, as ifIwas the one who was out of line. “Just make sure you remember to bring him around to the other programs. Some of us like to get a little credit for our work too.”
Oh, that’s what she was after. I knew she’d be pissed that Gail asked me to deal with Rocco even though she had zero reasons be involved. For one, I was the person who oversaw the whole program and she only ran the counseling services. And for another, unlike Vicki, Gail was actively trying to keep the foundation from getting shut down. I would have to mention to Gail that Vicki was not only willing to break confidentiality to parade clients around for a consultant, but that she was apparently calling clients on the weekends.
I held up a finger at her to look at my phone, which was buzzing in my hand.
And I could not help the smile that appeared on my face when I saw the message.
Rocco: A home-cooked meal sounds great, especially Dominican.
“Oh, got a hot date or something?”
Vicki had problems with boundaries, which was only part of the reason I regretted not pushing back when she’d first interviewed. Gail had insisted her extensive experience and connections in the Dallas public school system made up for all her other issues, but I wasn’t so convinced. On the surface she claimed to be ride or die for the program, but sometimes I really wondered about her. Especially when she seemed bound and determined to trample on my last nerve.
I cleared my throat again and tried once more to keep the gathering I was dying to give her inside myself. “No, I’m just meeting friends for dinner.”
I kept my eyes somewhere around her forehead, because if I had to look at her smug expression, I was not sure I could keep it together.
“Don’t want to make you late. I still have some loose ends to tie up here. Some of us will put in those extra hours when needed.”
I was not letting Vicki ruin my evening.
I showed her my teeth in what I knew did not even look remotely like a smile and pointed toward the parking lot in the direction of my car. “Don’t work too hard, Vicki. You’re going to put the rest of us to shame.”
I took the fact that I managed to unlock my jaw to say that as a win and walked off after wishing her a good night.
I’d barely gotten into some comfortable clothes, cute ones, because I didn’t need Rocco seeing me looking like a slob, when José and Salome arrived.
I didn’t stop moving around the kitchen and just called out to them while opening cans of coconut milk and pigeon peas. “It’s open! Come on in.”
I smiled as I heard them roll into my apartment like two Spanglish-speaking tornados.
José came over to give me a kiss on the cheek as he unloaded the bottles of wine he’d brought.
I gave him a dirty looked as he pulled back. “You had to invite Rocco to that chat, didn’t you?” He clicked his tongue like I was talking nonsense. José had only been at Sturm’s about nine months, but he’d been working as a web designer in the fashion industry for a minute. He was not fazed by anything.
He waved his hand as if the fact that we were fraternizing with the enemy was no big. “It’s not like any of us are anything other than employees. He’s doing a job and so are we.” He lifted a hand, palm out. “At the end of the day, it’s not like any of us can do anything other than do what we’re supposed to and let the bigwigs figure this out.”
He wasn’t wrong and I wasn’t in the mood to argue, so I switched to a lighter topic.
“Ooh, are those the new Guccis?” I asked as he nodded and tapped his toes and heels together like a Puerto Rican Dorothy.
“Si, Nena.” He grabbed the wineglass I’d gotten for him from the cupboard, still admiring his white leather hi-tops with the green and red stripes. They matched perfectly with his skinny black jeans and fitted black Balmain long-sleeved shirt. “You know I can’t resist that employee discount. Not that you do either. Are those sweats that make your ass pop like Cardi’s from the new LV knits collection?”
He actually slapped my backside as Salome cackled from a stool on the counter.
