“So,” I hedge, “who’s taking over as QC’s project lead?”
“Joe,” he says, and I fight my groan. I’ll do it later on my break, not while I’m on a call with my manager. “I think he’d be a great replacement for Barbie. He’s been involved with many reports.”
“May I suggest Emily?” I reply. “Someone with an eye for detail? We could do a test run with her and see how the QC teamwould be under her. I can see someone like Emily creating pivot tables for all the data errors?—”
“That’s a good idea,” Ed says. “We should include pivot tables in these reports.”
I frown at my monitor. We do have pivot tables in the reports. It was the first thing Barbie did after she was onboarded. She tidied up spreadsheets with pivot tables to break down the large amount of data her team would produce. And there were many of them. She was always detail-oriented.
“I could give Emily… the notes from the conference’s leadership seminar,” I say slowly. “The big one on Friday.”
“Or Joe,” Ed supplies, oblivious to the fact that the leadership seminar was on Thursday. “You know, Carter, I’m glad the conference provided you with useful information.”
“You are?”
“To tell you the truth—and this stays between you and me—the conference was always meant to be more of a trip than business,” he says, which has me staring at my screen in absolute surprise. “The company can’t afford to give raises this year, so Frank and I thought we’d bring along our two favorite rockstars this year as a way to show our appreciation.”
I don’t know where to begin with this. Or what to respond with. Dead silence seems like the appropriate response at this point.
“Don’t tell Joe,” Ed adds. “The B&E Dream Team has been my most productive team by far, but who knows? Maybe Joe will exceed expectations.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose again. Joe is going to be a massive downgrade from Barbie. Any of her replacements will be. “Yeah. Maybe.”
“Oh my God,”she laughs. “He told you I resigned today? I just wanted to use up all my sick days since I can’t cash them out. I’ll be back on Wednesday so we can go over the annuity SOP one last time before you submit the update form.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. What kind of bot would I be if I didn’t provide any input?” she deadpans, then gasps. “Did you dig up my melon?”
We’re playing the farming game for the second day in a row. I’m still fishing at the pier. Barbie has been foraging for berries and digging through villagers’ garbage cans. I don’t see what this has to do with farming, but Barbie will say we have chickens if I bring it up again.
“I have no idea what happened to it,” I lie.
“You are a terrible liar,” she replies.
“All right, I didn’t realize the pickaxe could destroy crops. Will it please you if I buy your character ice cream from the stand?”
She bursts into a fit of giggles, bringing an answering warmth to my chest. I let out a sharp exhale and force myself to focus on fishing.
“Make it two,” she says finally. “I need one to cheer me up over my massacred melon and another to celebrate some really good news.”
“What’s the good news?”
“Okay, so, a while back, I contacted an old advisor from college and asked if I could put her as a reference on my application,” she says. “Well, she reached out to me this morning about this conservation certification course she’s starting. It’sa new program, collaborating with the local community college and aquarium.”
“Does this mean you’re no longer doing the internship?”
“No. I’ll be doing it alongside my internship,” she says. “It’s just… This issoclose to what I want to do with my life. I’m hoping that this will open more doors for me. Or at least make my resume look more impressive outside thepenguinsin a bold, size-forty font.”
It’s not hard to picture Barbie at some aquarium, clearly in her element, and shining brightly with happiness while she does something good and meaningful to make the world a better place.
This is the life she wanted. Dreamed of.In California, my brain reminds me, and, suddenly, my chest and shoulders are wound tight.
“I’m happy for you.”
“Thank you,” she says. “My sisters are, too. Bell’s taking me out for celebratory drinks during happy hour tomorrow.”
“Of the fruity kind?” I tease, wishing my voice wasn’t so roughened.
