Jack (Secret Revenge #1)

by Robin Edwards

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  Chapter 1

  “Would you look at her? Thinks she’s the queen of the goddamn world with that stupid hipster haircut. God, every time I see it I want to gouge my eyes out with the nearest pointy object.” Miranda sneered across the office at Lily, their new head of HR, who was carrying files from the Artistic Director’s office to the photocopier.

  Jenny rolled her eyes. “She’s not that bad, Miranda. Besides, I have a haircut like that and you still love me.”

  “No, you don’t,” Miranda argued. “You have a faux-hawk. She has, like, a side-shave-curly-top thing going on.

  “Right,” said Jenny. “Totally different. Ah, go on, admit it. You’re just jealous because you wanted to cut your hair short too, but she did it first, and you’re too stuck up to do it now.”

  “I am not!” Miranda protested. “And I never wanted to get my hair cut like that. Who wants to look like Miley Cyrus?”

  “Well, to be fair,” Jenny replied, leaning back in her chair, “quite a few people, I would imagine.”

  Miranda glared at her friend. “What grown ass woman wants to look like Miley Cyrus?”

  “I think it suits her,” said Jenny, skirting Miranda’s question. “She looks totally rock ‘n’ roll.”

  “This is an office,” Miranda sniffed. “We shouldn’t look ‘rock ‘n’ roll’, we should look professional.”

  Jenny chuckled. “Technically, this is a theatre. And in the theatre you get all sorts.”

  “Yes, sure, fine, on the stage! But we’re the bureaucracy behind the scenes. We’re not artists.”

  “First of all, I resent the fact that you don’t consider what I do to be art. And second of all, technically, Lily does play in a punk rock band down at McGuire & Sons on Saturdays, so.”

  “It’s 2016. Does anyone still listen to punk rock?” Miranda asked witheringly.

  Jenny shrugged. “They’re pretty good, actually. The pub’s usually packed for their shows.”

  “Oh, you go often, do you?”

  “Beats going for cocktails with the other girls from HR,” Jenny replied. “Besides, one of the bartenders there is super cute.”

  Miranda cocked an eyebrow at the other woman. “Ohhh, I seeeeee,” she drawled. “You want to screw her, don’t you?”

  “The bartender?” Jenny asked, feigning innocence. “Yeah, totally.”

  “No, I mean Lily. Don’t pretend like you don’t understand what I’m saying,” Miranda chucked an eraser at her cubicle mate.

  Laughing, Jenny dodged the eraser, which ended up landing in her coffee mug, sinking down into the cold dregs of her morning coffee with quiet glugging sound.

  “Miranda, who doesn’t want to tap that? You would, if you didn’t know her. Hell, I bet you would if you got to know her a bit better too.”

  “Never, in a million years, would I ever willingly touch that woman’s body,” Miranda replied, crossing her arms.

  “Well, you’ve got to admit she’s hot, though,” said Jenny, waggling her eyebrows.

  Miranda huffed, toying with her stapler. “Okay, fine,” she said after a minute. “She’s fucking gorgeous. Even with that dumb haircut. Still wouldn’t do her though. She’s totally stuck up.”

  “You guys just got off on the wrong—oh, shit. Here she comes!” Jenny swiveled back towards her laptop, reaching for her coffee as she pretended to be doing work.

  “Hi, guys,” said Lily, smiling (patronisingly, Miranda thought) at them. “I’m just going around to make sure that everyone that’s coming has signed up for next week’s Halloween party. I want to get the food order in before we head off for the weekend.”

  “Already did it,” Miranda replied, not looking up.

  “Me too. No need to worry about us. If there’s free food involved, we’re always first in line,” said Jenny.

  “Awesome, thanks. Do either of you have any food allergies I should know about?”

  “Isn’t it your job to keep track of that kind of thing?” Miranda asked.

  “It is,” said Lily, her smile growing tight at the corners. “But, as you know, this is the first event I’ve organised since I was hired and, unfortunately, Carrie didn’t leave me any notes on allergies when she left.”

  “We eat everything,” said Jenny, smiling at the other woman.

  “Great,” said Lily. She looked like she was about to move on but then hesitated. “Didn’t I see you at McGuire & Sons last week?” she asked Jenny.

  “Yep, you did. You guys were great.”

  “Thanks. I thought that was you. You were hitting on the bartender.”

  Jenny laughed. “Guilty as charged.”

  “Any luck?”

  “I wish. This is my third try – but, this time, I made her laugh twice, so I feel progress is being made.”

  “Good luck,” said Lily. “She’s crazy hot.”

  “God, I know, right?” Jenny responded, resting her elbow in her desk and her chin in her hand and looking up at the ceiling dreamily. “I don’t suppose there’s any way she could be at our Hallowe’en party, is there?”

  Lily laughed. “I’ll put it under Special Requests and see what I can do.”

  “Thanks,” said Jenny. Then, with sly glance at Miranda, she said, “By the way, I just wanted to say that we love your haircut.” She gestured to Miranda and herself, “We were just talking about how good it looks.”

  Miranda glared at Jenny, though, luckily, she was facing away from Lily and the other woman couldn’t tell. “Thanks,” Lily smiled. “I really wanted to try something new. 30 is fast approaching and I felt the need to relive my youth a little, before it all goes up in smoke.”

  “Nah,” said Jenny, waving a hand. “I’ve been on the other side of 30 for a few years now and, trust me, life’s still pretty good over here.”

  “Really?” Lily asked. “I always thought you were younger than me.”

  Jenny grinned. “Don’t flirt with me, Lily. You know my heart belongs to someone else.”

  “Right, sorry,” Lily joked. “Far be it from me to get in between you and your bartender. Anyway, I’ll leave you guys to it. Have a good weekend. Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow night at the bar?” she smiled at Jenny.

  “Very possibly,” Jenny replied.

  “And don’t forget to wear a costume next week!” Lily called as she headed down the hall.

  Once she was out of earshot, Miranda heaved a disgusted sigh. “Ugh, she’s so arrogant. Oh, 30 is fast approaching! Oh, I’m so hip! Oh, look at me!” she twittered in a high falsetto that sounded nothing like Lily’s voice.

  “Ah, give her a break. She’s not that bad.” Jenny took a sip of her cold coffee, only to get a mouthful of eraser. Spluttering, she coughed the eraser, and the rest of the coffee, out onto her desk.

  “Ew,” said Miranda.

  “See?” Jenny wheezed. “This is what happens when you throw things in the workplace. I almost died!”

  Miranda rolled her eyes. “I’ll go get some paper towels.”

  “And call McGuire & Sons. Tell the bartender I’m dying and I have to tell her something before I pass on to the next world.”

  “We’re the advertisers, not the actors, Jenny. Calm down!” Miranda responded as she went to the bathroom.

  The Galapagos Theatre for Woman in the Arts was a mid-sized theatre in the up-and-coming
east side of Vancouver. According to its mandate, only one show a year could be written by a man and all production crews, from director to stage hands, needed to be made up of at least 85% women. Needless to say, the majority of the people running the place, from the box office staff to the Artistic and Musical directors, were mostly women as well. Working at the Galapagos was one of the most coveted positions for women in the Vancouver theatre scene and for good reason.

  The pay was good, there was a generous maternal leave plan, and the shows were always of the highest quality. Not to mention, it was housed in an old, turn-of-the-century theatre with beautiful wood work and elegant, if creaking, red velvet seats.

  The only problem with that, Miranda thought to herself as she fiddled with the taps in the women’s washroom, was that sometimes the plumbing left a lot to be desired. Finally, with a groan, the tap let loose a sudden spurt of water that quickly reduced to a faint dribble. Rolling her eyes, Miranda dampened some paper towels and shut off the protesting tap, hurrying back to Jenny.

  “Thanks,” said Jenny as she wiped coffee off her desk. “So, what’s your plan for the party, anyway?”

  “What do you mean my plan?”

  “Your costume! We’ve got to go all out. I don’t want the actors one-upping us.”

  “Do you think we’ll really have to wear masks?”

  “Well, the email said it was a masquerade.”

  “Yeah, but…”

  “And that anyone without a mask would be given one on arrival.”

  “But still…”

  “And if they didn’t accept the mask, they’d be refused entry.”

  “Fine, fine. I just hate wearing my contact lenses,” Miranda pouted.

  “You haven’t answered my question,” Jenny pointed out.

  Miranda shrugged. “That’s because I don’t know yet. You know how I am with costumes.”

  Jenny laughed. “That I do. Which is why I figured you’d already have something planned.”

  “She only just sent out the email on Monday. That’s less than two weeks to prepare. She clearly doesn’t understand that a good costume takes time.”

  Jenny rolled her eyes.

  “And what are you going as?” Miranda asked.

  “Madame Hooch,” Jenny replied immediately. “She speaks to me as a fellow Jewish lesbian.”

  “You mean the Quidditch coach from Harry Potter? I don’t remember anything saying she was Jewish or a lesbian.”

  “Pffff,” Jenny scoffed. “It’s so obvious. You just gotta read between the lines a little.”

  “Right,” said Miranda, who had only read the series once, when she was a child, and could barely remember the lines themselves, never mind what was between them. “Well, I don’t remember her wearing a mask. So what are you going to do about that?”

  Jenny frowned. “Shit, you’re right.” She thought about this for a while, absentmindedly patting at the already dry coffee stains with the wad of paper towels. “I guess I’ll have to go as Professor Trelawney. She wore giant glasses. I can get some of those enormous plastic sunglasses from the dollar store. That’s basically a mask, right?”

  “You amateur,” Miranda replied, shaking her head.

  Jenny laughed. “It’s a shame, though. Trelawney is, like, the only straight woman on staff.”

  Miranda quirked an eyebrow at her friend. “You just assigned each character a sexuality depending on how much you liked them, didn’t you?” she accused.

  “Ehhh,” Jenny grinned, “there’s a definite possibility of that, yes.”

  “What about the headmaster? The old guy. What was his name? Bumblybore?”

  Jenny threw the soggy eraser back at Miranda. “Dumbledore, you uncultured slob. His name was Dumbledore.”

  “Dumbledore, Bumblybore. They’re similar. But didn’t he have a beard and glasses? At least then your face would be better hidden.”

  “Oooh, true. And he was definitely gay. Rowling even came out and said as much afterwards, so I’m not even making this up. Miranda, you’re a star. That’s a great idea!” Gnawing her lower lip, Jenny crossed her arms and squinted at Miranda. “But seriously. We need to find you a costume.”

  “We also have actual work to be doing,” Miranda pointed out.

  “Pshaw,” said Jenny. “We work for a theatre, Miranda. What could be more important than the costumes? I mean, except for the script, of course. And the directoral—”

  “Jenny.”

  “Right, yes. Your costume.”

  “No, our work.”

  “Costume.”

  “Work.”

  “If you don’t have a costume by Monday, we’re spending the entire day choosing one,” Jenny compromised.

  “Agreed,” said Miranda. They shook hands on it and turned back to their computers.

  A few minutes passed before Miranda spoke again. “You’re googling costume ideas right now, Jenny, aren’t you?”

  “No! I—yes. Yes, I very definitely am. What about going as Pippi Longstocking?”

  “No mask.”

  “Goddammit. You’re right. This mask thing makes it hard.”

  “See?”

  “I should never have doubted you.”

  “Apology accepted. Now work, Jenny.”

  “Ugh. God, fine.”

  A few more minutes passed.

  “I can see your screen, you know. You can forget about that right now.”

  “What? I think you’d look great as Boy George!”

  “Jenny!”

  “Fine, fine. I’m doing work…”

  Chapter 2

  The next night Jenny went to McGuire & Sons to try her luck with the redheaded bartender one more time. She got there earlier than usual and Lily’s band was only just setting up. When she caught sight of Jenny at the bar, Lily smiled and mimed smoking a cigarette, raising her eyebrows in an invitation. Jenny nodded and left her beer with the bartender, heading for the door.

  Outside, the air was brisk and the cloud cover overhead made Jenny glad she’d brought a waterproof coat. Not that she ever went anywhere without one between September and July. In Vancouver, the joke went, it rained 366 days a year.

  “Hey,” said Lily, wrapping her jean jacket tightly around herself as she used her teeth to pull a cigarette from its package.

  “Hey,” Jenny replied, taking her lighter out of her pocket and lighting the other woman’s cigarette.

  “Want one?” Lily asked, offering Jenny the pack.

  “Nah, I quit a few years ago. I just carry the lighter around to start conversations with cute girls,” she winked.

  Lily laughed. “Speaking of which, how’s our favorite bartender doing?”

  “I think I’m growing on her,” Jenny said. “She remembered me from last week. Plus, she told me her name!”

  “Oh ho! That is progress. And?”

  “Kezia.”

  “That’s pretty.”

  “I think so. Once I met this girl – drop dead gorgeous, funny, the whole nine yards. And then she told me her name was Cindy and I just couldn’t go through with it.”

  Lily coughed on the smoke as she laughed. “Seriously? Because of her name?”

  “It was like a bucket of ice water on my libido, I kid you not,” Jenny insisted. “It was tragic.”

  Lily shook her head. “You’re crazy.”

  “No, I’m selective. There’s a fine line.”

  Lily smiled. “If you say so.”

  For a moment they stood in silence, watching the traffic go by. Then Lily asked, “How long have you worked at the Galapagos?”

  “Mmm, almost five years now? Miranda interned there after she finished grad school. Once they’d hired her, she convinced them to hire me too. We did our masters together and I’d been getting all these shitty jobs at other theatres. Ushering and stuff like that. Totally lame. But it stands to reason that she got snapped up straight out of school. Of the two of us, she’s definitely the brilliant one.”

  “Mm,” Li
ly said noncommittally.

  Jenny looked at the other woman out of the corner of her eye. “You don’t think so?”

  “Well,” Lily shrugged, “I don’t really know her. She just seems really…I don’t, arrogant.”

  Jenny laughed. “She says the same thing about you.”

  “Me?” Lily looked appalled. “I’m not arrogant. I’m just quiet.”