“Oh man. It’s whatever. There’s this new project I’m leading for one of our new pieces of software. We’re kind of behind schedule, but I think it’s because none of our engineers are following the schedule.”
“Isn’t that your job, though?” Mia asks.
“What?”
“To make sure your team follows the schedule?”
He scoffs. “I’m not an office manager, Meems?—”
“I mean, clearly not, with what you’re making,” I decide to step in. “But seriously, Mia’s right. Isn’t it your job to like, define the scope and the specifications of the project to your entire team? Requirements and stuff, like deadlines? You’re in charge, right?”
He looks at me with narrowed eyes.
“Do you forget I own my own business, or…” I start, with no intention of finishing.
“Honestly, we forget that it’s a real thing, sometimes,” Grant chimes in.
Mia scowls, ready to eat his face. She’s never liked him.
I decide to save his life and cover Mia’s mouth with my hand. “Well, I own my own business, asshole. Besides,” I say, turning back to Leo, “this is common sense. Teachers do this every fucking day. Plan, execute, assess. Come on.”
“Not with billions of dollars on the line, they don’t?—”
Mia takes this opportunity to bite one of my fingers on the hand covering her mouth.
“Fuck, Meems?—”
“Nope, just the well-being, education, and livelihood of actual living, breathing, children, most of whom will never have the opportunity to work at these billion dollar companies,” Mia fires back, as I shake the pain out of my hand.
“Relax, Meems,” Leo says to her.
“Me?!” Mia is outraged.
“Her?” I say, in disbelief.
“Whatever,” she says, stomping away, Andrea (that’s her name!)following behind her.
Leo blows out a breath. “You’re right. I don’t know why I’m arguing with you about this.”
I shrug. “You should probably tell Mia that.”
Grant and Mike wander back to the bar to get more overpriced drinks.
“How’s Meems doing, anyway? Did she ever contact that guy from the bar in Wildwood?”
I’m uncomfortable thinking about it. “I mean, we don’t really talk about that stuff,” I tell him, shifting on my feet.
“Right. That would be weird.”
“Extremely,” I say, while Mia’s blue eyes and flushed chest, mouth agape appear in my brain again. I find her across the bar. She and Andrea are cracking up, Mia’s shriek of laughter piercing the ambient buzz.
“But you haven’t seen him around your place or anything, right?”
“Hell no.”
“I don’t know why I’m still thinking about it,” Leo muses, taking a sip of his fancy gin drink, which I’m pretty sure is just straight gin poured over a shit ton of ice. “He would probably be good for her. I assume he makes a lot of money. Could probably get her out of that shithole you guys live in.”
“Hey,” I fire back, now uncomfortable andveryirritated, for several different reasons that I can parse from that statement. “That’sourshithole, and there are plenty of good dudes out there who don’t make tech or finance money, asshole. What the hell is wrong with you tonight? You’re being a huge one percent dick.”
