She pulls out a chair and sits, clearly finished with her pitch. I munch on bread while I mull over the report. Projected earnings, demographics of the competition, X-Stream TV viewers, and our customers are laid out in colourful graphs and charts. There’s even a section on mitigating risks. Her numbers will be spot-on, I know.
“Why do you think Jacardi pulled out of this?” I ask. “It doesn’t make sense, given these numbers.”
“That’s the one thing I don’t like about it. The only thing I can think of is that because they’ve added our customers to their base, maybe they want to distance themselves from the younger crowd.”
“But why not go for both?” I scratch my head.
“Good question, but we don’t have time to do any digging. We need a solution in”—she glances at her watch—“three minutes.”
Sighing, I sit back. These are the moments when I most miss my father. He would have known exactly what to do. I flip through the pages again, realizing how much work must have gone into the report. “Was this how you spent your weekend?”
“You weren’t going to come up with anything better, so I thought I’d crunch the numbers for you,” she says, adding, “You know, since you’re being a stubborn ass about it.”
“I could have come up with something better,” I tell her, sounding exactly as defensive as I feel. “Easily.”
She crosses her arms. “Well, did you?”
“No,” I answer, knowing how defensive I sound.
Jaquell gives me a satisfied grin. “Look, I know you better than you know yourself, Theo. You only rejected this plan because Markos brought it to you.”
“Can you blame me?”
“Yes, I can. Did he mess up? Absolutely. But that doesn’t makethisa bad idea. So pull your head out of your butt and admit that Carolina Armas is the answer to your prayers right now.” She checks her watch again. “One minute.”
Hijo de puta. I hate like hell what I’m about to say. “Did you make copies of the report for all the board members?”
“Of course.” She stands and starts for the door. “I’ll be back with them in thirty seconds. Finish eating and wipe your mouth. You have crumbs in your stubble.”
5
Is Stabby an Emotion?
Nora
Somehow I manageto make it through the first part of the morning without murdering Kat. Instead of getting straight to work, I had to take her to the laundry services building to scrounge up a uniform for her—polo shirt and shorts, like the rest of the resort staff. Event planners and office staff wear suits, so at least my outfit doesn’t match my sister’s,à lachildhood family photo shoots.
The trip back to the office takes forever in the blistering heat, what with Kat stopping to gawk at everything along the way—especially anyone with a Y-chromosome and muscles. She somehow manages to get “snaps” from three guys by the time we return to the air-conditioned heaven I call the office, at which point I find myself sounding exactly like a parent. “You shouldn’t evenbeon Snapchat. No good can come of it.”
Needing to regroup, I set her up at my desk to read the employee handbook and fill out the intake forms while I gather my things and go into one of the conference rooms. Only instead of thinking clearly, I wind up stewing over this massive betrayal on the part of my mother, whom I shallneverforgive. Then I worry about what Kat is doing so I get up to find her, only to discover she’s abandoned the manual in favour of chatting up the FedEx guy with Rosy, who would definitely leave her husband of forty years if the FedEx guy gave her the nod. Or, more accurately, if his tight shorts did.
Oh God, Rosy is going to be the worst influence on her.“Hey, Kat, have you finished the employee manual already?” I ask pointedly.
She rolls her eyes. “Not yet,boss, but if I’m not working quickly enough for your liking, you can always dock my pay.”
Rosy seems to find that hilarious, which is odd since she doesn’t tolerate insubordination from anyone else.
I wait for the two of them to stop cackling and for Kat to realize I’m serious. When she finally does, she says, “I better get back to the milestone.”
“Grindstone,” I correct her. “You mean grindstone, and I’d hardly call reading a twenty-page manual hard labour.”
“Okay, you caught me.” She raises her hands in surrender. “I used the wrong word.”
“Are you going to dock her pay for that too?” Rosy asks, chuckling until she starts to wheeze.
I bark out a laugh as well, then say, “Okay, back to it!”
When we arrive at my desk, Oakley (who works ten to six) has arrived and is wearing a smug look. “Oh, Nora, you’re here. I thought you got replaced by a younger version of yourself.”
