He’s still quiet for a moment, and my eyes fall shut, teeth clamping in severe exasperation for all of theever-blazingincompetence around me.
I wanna be done.
I just want to see my Angel.
Fuck all of this other noise.
“Well, the thing is that we’ve been trying. I mean,reallytrying hard. I’ve made over a dozen calls, I’ve personally spent hours upon hours trying to get into it and I just can’t seem to… I’m just saying, whoever designed the thing is—”
I growl over his floundering, “Are you telling me that some of the best hackers in the world areunableto figure out a PalmPilot made of trash that was whipped together by a twenty-year-old gamer from Thousand Oaks inprison? Is that what you’re telling me right now??”
He goes quiet again.I’m seriously about to throw this phone.
“It’s sort of ingenious, if I’m being honest,” he mumbles.
And now he’s fanboying. Lovely.
“Impenetrable,” I roar. “That’s what you’re saying, si? You can’t get into it?? Because I wasassuredof your abilities, Tomasito. Lying on your resume isn’t the sort of thing you want to do with me as el jefe…”
“N-no, sir, I’m not saying that,” he’s panicking. I pout. “I can get into it, I swear I can! I just need some more time—”
“Time’s up, Mr. Robot,” I snarl. “I want into that devicenow. If the problem is that you’re distracted, I have ways of managing that.”
“H-huh…?”
“I’ll send you some supervision.” I straighten in my seat. “Maybe that’ll help keep you motivated.”
I hang up while he’s still talking, immediately dialing Yari.
“What’s up, boss?”
“Have Max send some guys to Tomas’s house. Wherever he is… find him. Tell them to sit on him until he understands the severity of this job he swore up and down he could complete.”
“You got it,” Yari confirms, and I have to momentarily appreciate the one damn person in my life who understands the concept of doing his fucking job.
He and Kent are it, I swear. The only ones who aren’t complete morons.
It’s so hard to find good help these days…
My mind spins back into the red, and I have to compose myself before I blow a goddamn gasket.
Woo-sah…
Inhale, exhale.
“Anything else?” Yari asks, distracting me from the rage about to swallow me up.
“You’ve set everything up for tonight?” I climb back up to the positive side of things, rather than the aspects of this job that will have me slicing people open at the middle.
In due time…
“Yup. All good,” Yari chirps. “Chrystine is working on the menu now. Theater is set up. Everyone’s been instructed to stay left.”
I can hear the glee in his voice, which quirks my lips. And rolls my eyes, because it’s not a goddamnrom-com.
So I’m going on a date… what’s the big deal?
Stranger things have happened, I’m sure.
