"No, we’re mad at Dynah. You know, I’d be concerned you were going to turn into an apple at this rate if you weren’t pouring that into water."
"It’s too much sugar on its own," Silva chirped cheerfully, sipping from her bottle with a hum of contentment, taking a seat at the table. "And you can’t be mad at Dynah. Dynah’s just Dynah. You know what to expect going in. Let me guess, you were supposed to go to the fair together this weekend and now she’s going with some guy she met three minutes ago?"
Lurielle nearly choked on a forkful of her lunch, laughing at Silva’s words, and Ris sighed. Everyone had Dynah’s number, it seemed, except Dynah herself.
"Basically. We had out-of-town weekend plans and she dumped me. Do you want to take her place? All the fresh-pressed cider you can drink, on me. The room is already paid for and I’ll bet the leaves are beautiful in the valley right now."
Silva’s rosebud mouth opened, but her words never had a chance to draw breath. Tannar appeared in the door, his face lighting up at the sight of the girls, beelining to where they sat and pulling a chair from the neighboring table, straddling the seat and giving them a bright smile as he rested his arms across its back. The break room was mostly empty that afternoon . . . mostly empty, but not entirely. Ris watched Puldra, a troll from accounting, return to the neighboring table from the microwave, only to find the chair — in front of which she’d placed her lunch only several minutes earlier — missing. The troll scowled at Tannar’s back, forcefully yanking another from the other side of the table to her now-empty spot, not that he paid any mind. Ris sighed, shooting Puldra an apologetic look, hoping she’d not blame the entire table for the transgressions of one, for it wasn’t a good idea to make enemies with anyone in accounting.
The elf was new to their little work friend group, having elbowed his way in with the self-assuredness seemingly possessed by all men of their species: an assumption that the entire world was theirs for the taking and that they’d receive a thank you from anyone they might step on in their climb. Tannar’s pushiness was somewhat tempered by his dazzling smile and gregarious nature, and he’d unsurprisingly set his sights on Silva practically since his first day.
"An official meeting of the Lunch Bunch and I wasn’t invited?! Ladies, I’m wounded. Are we making weekend plans? Fallfest, right? Whaddaya say, Silva? Fancy a spiced cider and a spin on the haunted hayride on Saturday?"
Tannar’s interest in Silva was as unsurprising as Dynah’s eleventh-hour cancellation, but whatwassurprising was Silva’s lukewarm reaction to his attentions, considering Tannar was exactly the sort of match Ris thought Silva would be gaga over. He was a Summerland elf, like Lurielle, with a creamy ivory complexion and caramel-colored hair, a sharp contrast to their Silmë co-workers. His blue eyes sparkled and his bright smile was likely the result of pricey whitening treatments; his aftershave smelled expensive and the watch on his wrist probably cost more than her car — all the makings of a good catch in the Elvish community. He was friendlier than most privileged men of their kind tended to be though, and although Luielle disliked him on principle, Ris thought he seemed like a genuinely nice guy. As pushy and arrogant as one could expect from the upper echelons of Elvish society, but friendly with bright, kind eyes. She didn’t understand Silva’s seeming apathy, but didn’t want to add to the lectures she knew her younger co-worker regularly received from her family.
"Oh, that-that sounds so fun! I wish I could . . . but I have plans for the weekend. Are you and Khash going, Lurielle?"
"We might drop in to get some food and walk around for a bit, after mudball, as long as the rain holds out. We’ll see . . . I don’t want to put on real pants all weekend, that’s the only real goal."
"Not even for fried cheese on a stick?" Silva asked, taking another sip from her bottle before carefully capping it. "That’s my favorite fair food, I’m kind of sad I’ll be missing it. Well, that and the cider, but I don’t need the fair for that."
"You don’t need to wear pants to get fried cheese on a stick, Silva. That’s the beauty of fried cheese. Pants aren’t required to enjoy it."
Silva’s laughter tinkled like a delicate crystal bell, Tannar’s nostrils flaring at the sound as if he were memorizing the pitch and frequency before her attention turned back to Ris.
"Hopefully you can find someone to go with you? If I hadn’t already made plans, I would . . . I should get back before anyone notices I’m gone. Not that they ever do, but today will be the day."
Tannar’s bright blue eyes dimmed momentarily as Silva rose, brushing non-existent crumbs from her skirt, smoothing over the fabric in a graceful movement. "Something at the club?"
"Mmhm," Silva hummed, keeping her eyes downcast as she pushed in her chair. "No way out of it. I’m really sorry, Ris. See you all later!"
The click of her heels competed with the tinny voice of the video Puldra watched on her phone, and Ris watched Lurielle’s narrowed eyes follow Silva from the room before they turned to Tannar.
"So you haven’t joined the club here yet? I’m not sure you should even be talking to her without a membership. You’re just the help without it, you know."
She winced at Lurielle’s unnecessary barb, casting a quick glance at their co-worker. His long, ivory ears reddened, but Tannar straightened in his seat at the less-than-subtle dig.
"I belong to my parent’s club, obviously. I was going to wait until the end of the season and transfer my renewal, but maybe you’re right. Maybe if I apply this weekend, I can get a pass to whatever event they’re holding. Well, I’m supposed to be heading up to legal . . . have fun this weekend on your adventures, ladies. I want to hear all about them on Monday." He straightened out of the chair, returning it to Puldra’s table and earning another scowl from the troll before leaving the break room without a backward glance.
"Like there’s actually something going on," Lurielle muttered to herself once he’d left, and Ris turned to her friend in exasperation.
"You need to stop being so mean to him, he’sactuallynice."
"I can’t help it. He looks like every asshole who tormented me growing up. And besides, he’s only nice because he thinks he’s sniffed out a sure thing. The second she tells him to take a walk, he’s going to ignore us, just wait."
"Yeah, well,you’regoing to feel like the asshole when we’re bridesmaids at their wedding. He’s literally everything she’s looking for, so be nicer."
Lurielle mumbled something Ris didn’t catch before shifting back to the Dynah-caused conundrum at hand. "What are you going to do? Ireallydon’t like the idea of you going alone."
"Nothing’s going to happen, I’ll be fine. I might not even do anything but shop, to be honest. One trip to the buffet was enough for me.Ormaybe this time I’ll order off the menu. Find my own tasty weekend entrée."
Lurielle laughed, stretching her legs at the now unoccupied table. "Please be careful, okay? I don’t care what you ‘order,’ just don’t wind up in someone’s trunk. Look, if something happens . . . call Silva, okay? Just . . . please don’t ask me why. I don’t know what game she’s playing, just . . . just trust me. Promise me if something goes wrong, you’ll call her first.Andweekend entrées sometimes come home with you, you know. Don’t discount a doggy bag, just sayin’." She reached out for the top file in the stack Ris had set on the table, before the latter smacked her hand away.
"Don’t touch, these are confidential."
"Then why do you have them in the break room?!"
Ris smiled with a shrug, gathering up her stack of files before rising from the table.
