Something I did with Lincoln.
Those days were fun. It's how we ended up together. And now the irony is that I'm working doing almost the same job, at the place where he works.
I had only seen Tobias in passing once I came in and headed up to Level B.
He'd pulled me aside briefly, his voice all clipped efficiency as he explained how everyone is too busy with Auralis, how the internal dispatch routes are falling behind.
"We need someone reliable," he'd said, fixing me with that intense gaze. "And who better than someone who spent years delivering packages across Hudson Vale?"
Anyway, now I push my transport cart down the gleaming halls, Morris the cat sitting smugly on top of it, his eyes blinking slowly as he closes them, smiling to himself from his perch.
“What areyousmiling at? You need to be earning your keep too, mister. Look at you sitting up there thinking you're special.” I laugh, shaking my head at him.
My route takes me right through Lincoln's department. Today, I'm bringing Tom Mavidson's tablet, along with a few otheritems. I have my trusty walkie-talkie clipped to my belt too, so communication can flow effortlessly if anyone needs me.
I've actually made a few friends in the department on level B, a lot of them I hadn’t met before. They’re cordial and I find my smiles coming easy, something that clearly Lincoln hasn't missed, as he's always staring at me. Whenever he does, I avert my eyes and try to pretend he's not there.
Why should I give him the time of day?
After some small chit-chat with a couple of the workers at their cubicles, I head back to my cart. I pet Morris as I stock the cart, preparing to deliver stuff to other departments.
There's a gentle hand on my shoulder from behind.
“Hey, what's up? Do you need something?” I ask Lincoln formally.
“Just wanted to see how you're holding up. How's your first day?” he asks.
He looks genuinely interested and also a bit morose. He's trying to butter me up.
“It's all right. People are nice.”
“That's because you haven't gotten to know them yet.” He chuckles nervously.
I don't.
“Anyway, I got to get going. Got stuff to do,” I say, giving him a cursory smile, one that I don't feel on my face.
“Yeah, of course. If you need anything or… I… just let me know,” Lincoln offers, looking unsure.
This is clearly bothering him, us being distant. It's been five days since the blowout of our argument on the sidewalk before the ride picked us up.
After we got home, neither of us spoke to each other, and we stayed in our rooms. On the bright side, we can't get divorced because we're already divorced, even though the irony is that we're fighting like a married couple.
At this point, I don't even know why I'm living in his house. Oh yeah, that's right. Money.
Even though I'm very busy, I have fun, and every time I have to come back up to the department, I'm met with smiles. Part of me wonders if the CEO threatened anybody or maybe the department thinks they need me.
My job is one that's very replaceable, at least so I think, but one of the things I do not miss is that whenever I make it back up to level B, Sarah and Lincoln, whenever they're not in that little testing room, are always together.
Sarah is always on his ass, making sure that one part of her body or another is touching him. If they're talking to another co-worker or relaying whatever it is they're mentioning about the robot, Sarah's shoulder is always brushed up against his arm.
If she's showing something to him on her tablet, he leans over her, his chest almost pressed up against her upper back, making them look very intimate. And it's clearly very obvious to anybodywho can see that the two are more than just coworkers, and it makes me uncomfortable even though it shouldn't.
My shift is from 7:00 a.m. to 3:00 p.m., which is perfect because I'd be leaving right around when the building starts buzzing but before overtime kicks in.
I have a little over a couple of hours to go, but now it's lunchtime.
I had carried a little container with me, one that I placed in the fridge on level B since the break room there is bigger.
