Best,
Vincent
* * *
TO-DO List (Home Version)
Grocery shopping
Buy cacti and snake plants
Vacuum and wash floors (same day so as to actually get on with washing)
Clean out dryer lint holder thingy
* * *
Two Days Later
I barely slept last night. I’d drift off, only to be woken by stress dreams, most of which ended with Carolina and Theo naked and laughing at me. Not a great start to what will undoubtedly be one of the most stressful days of my career. The Survivor Challenge is filming today. I was out at the island all day yesterday with the crew, helping however I could with the setup. We were there for close to twelve hours and are heading back out in twenty minutes.
Another tropical storm is brewing, and it looks like it will arrive by tomorrow morning. Filming must take place today, or I’ll be stuck with all of these terrible people to look after for another several days while we wait for the storm to pass. And by all of these terrible people, I mean Carolina and Theo. Vincent too. Actually, Vincent’s not that bad, but he’s like the human version of a mosquito, always buzzing around making noise and irritating people. But other than the three of them, the rest of the crew and contestants have been okay. Well, that’s not really true either. Several of the crew members are pretty high maintenance, now that I think about it. Case in point: Barry, the Banana Boat fan.
But I could deal with all the Vincents and Barrys in the world for the rest of my life if I can only get what’s-his-name and what’s-her-face off my island forever so I can forget all about them.
Picking up my coffee mug, I tip it back, only to discover it’s emptyà laAunt Beth and her martini glass. It’s probably for the best. Do I really need to add more caffeine to my already-anxious state?
My desk phone rings, startling me.
“Nora? It’s Fidel. We’ve got a big problem.”
I press the receiver closer to my right ear while Fidel tells me that the booze order that was supposed to have arrived yesterday still hasn’t shown up. He called the guys at the warehouse to see if maybe it had arrived on the island but hasn’t been delivered yet, but it turns out they have no record of an order coming in this week at all.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
“There has to be some mistake. I sent the order last Wednesday.” I try to sound calm while I scramble to open my email. “Let me find it.”
I consider clicking on the sent items but realize I need to go directly to drafts. And there it is, the email to Jaquell, sitting there, waiting to be sent. Kat added a message to it before forgetting to press send.
Jaquell,
Thanks for this!
Nora
Son of a bitch. Kat didn’t send the order.
I let out a hiss of air, like a bicycle tire that’s just been slashed. “So, um… yeah, the mistake is on our end,” I tell him.
“Are you kidding me?” Fidel asks, sounding as pissed as I would be if the situation were reversed.
“I wish I was,” I say, momentarily considering selling Kat down the river. “I am so sorry, Fidel.”
“Nora, this is bad. As of this afternoon, I’m out of vodka, whiskey, dark and light rum, and Rojas Breezies.Breezies, Nora. Do you have any idea how popular they are?”
“I… I can guess.” I rub my forehead with my left hand.
Fidel lets out a long sigh. “You’d better come to the main office right now so we can figure out what to do.”
