Echo

by Crafter, Sol

  Cole bit his lip. It hadn't taken him very long to realize that Mark Etty really wasn't very good at his duties. He spent too much time playing around, then dumped all the work he didn't want to do off on Cole. He should have been frustrated about it, but he'd pretty much gotten used to things being the way they were.

  He'd always just kept his head down, something that had carried him all through school.

  "Now they're bringing in the company president's son to handle things." Mark snorted derisively. "Like that doesn't just scream nepotism." He flung the pen in his hand at the wall. "They were just looking for some excuse to mess with me so they could bring that guy in." He stood up and stomped toward the door with a last, "Dickless!" left behind him.

  Cole stared out the door for a moment, then heaved a sigh and got up to walk over and quietly close it. The "click" was a comforting sound.

  He walked back to his desk and went back to skimming through the report, his highlighter marking any pertinent information.

  He couldn't help wondering what was really going on and how it was going to affect him, but since there was nothing he could do about it... He just kept his head down and worked.

  * * *

  Anderson was shocked by the lazy group of people he found. Every time he asked them for specifics on a report they were supposed to be handling, the answer would always be: "Heath does that."

  Finally he'd had enough and went in search of the mythical "Heath." He really wanted to meet this paragon of work that seemed to be doing everything in the entire department, leaving his co-workers free to squander company resources.

  When he opened the door with "HEATH" in the nameplate, he was surprised to find out just how small the office--closet--was. And sitting behind the heavily piled desk was Cole.

  "You're Heath?" he demanded in shock.

  Cole looked just as surprised to see him. He held a highlighter limp in one hand and his eyes were wide at the abrupt intrusion. "You're Heath? Yes, Cole Heath. What are you doing here?"

  "I got sent to take over this whole failing project," Anderson said.

  "I got sent to take over this whole failing project. You're the boss' son?" Cole blinked. "I mean... I'm sorry, Mr. Bester."

  "No, I'm still Anderson to you." Anderson stepped carefully into the office, closing the door behind him. He felt a bit claustrophobic, but he didn't want anyone wandering by getting the wrong idea. Or the right idea as the case might be. "How have you been?"

  "How have you been? I'm fine," Cole said, then lowered his eyes. His fingers twisted together nervously. "You didn't call."

  Anderson winced. "I was going to call yesterday, but I found out about this instead. The whole taking over this department thing was kind of sprung on me last minute. Then when I get here, no one knows anything. Have you been doing all the work for this whole department?"

  "Have you been doing all the work for this whole department? I don't know," Cole shrugged. "When I come in I just do the work that's left in my IN box. Then I go home."

  "Those utter bastards." Anderson shook his head. "I can't believe they would do this to you... to anyone. There's a reason why there's fifteen people in this department, and they just dumped all the work on one guy. It's practically criminal."

  Cole lowered his head miserably. He looked so confused, as if he didn't know what was going on. And he probably didn't.

  He'd just come in each day and done all the work left for him. And comparing the closet he worked in to the rather lavish offices his coworkers enjoyed... it really pissed Anderson off.

  "Look, some stuff seriously needs to be straightened out around here," Anderson said. "Go home for the rest of today."

  Cole was incredibly pale. "Go home for the rest of today. Am I in trouble? Will I be fired?" He looked like he was about to cry, his teeth gnawing at his lower lip to keep control.

  "No, no, nothing like that," Anderson assured. "You've done way more than your fair share and now I've got to figure out what your coworkers have been up to. You'll get a full day's pay. Come back tomorrow and hopefully I'll have this all sorted out."

  With every sign of reluctance, Cole stood and gathered up his backpack. He looked really worried, but Anderson had the feeling that nothing he said would make it better. Not until Cole came back tomorrow and found his job still waiting for him.

  He watched him leave with dragging footsteps. Cole's shoulders were rounded and his dark head was bowed. Every line of his body screamed out uncertainty and fear. It made Anderson want to call him back, but he couldn't.

  He just watched him go.

  * * *

  Unable to resist, Cole knocked on Mary's door. When she opened it, he said, "Why didn't you tell me that Anderson was my boss?"

  She looked surprised. "He's kind of my boss too, but it's not like he rubs it in anyone's face or anything. He's just a nice guy."

  "He's just a nice guy. Except that nice guy took over the department I work in and sent me home." Cole shook his head. "I'm probably going to be fired."

  Mary laughed and opened the door all the way. "Get in here and talk to me. And I highly doubt you're going to be fired. He probably would have said something to you."

  She gestured for him to sit on the cream-colored couch. "Do you want a soda or something?"

  "Do you want a soda or something? Sure, that's fine," Cole said, watching her go into the kitchen. He raised his voice, "So you don't think I'm going to be fired?"

  Mary came back out carrying two glasses of cola, ice bobbing against the surface. "I highly doubt it. If he was going to fire you he wouldn't have just sent you home for the day. He would have kept you around to suffer the misery of cleaning up your mess. Then he would have fired you."

  Cole gave her a flat look. "Then he would have fired you. Thanks, that really comforts me. I'll probably go in tomorrow and get told to clean out my desk." He flopped backward on the couch. "My life is full of suck."

  Mary made a "tsking" sound with her tongue. "You're always so negative. I just don't understand how such a cute boy could be so filled with doom and gloom. Are you regular?"

  "Are you regular?" Cole echoed, then exploded, "What kind of question is that?"

  She laughed and shook her head at him, her green eyes sparkling merrily. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I just couldn't resist." She reached out to pat his hand. "Basically, you worry way too much. What will be, will be. I personally don't think you're going to be fired. But until you know anything for sure, you can't drive yourself crazy.

  "If I was you, I would take a hot bath, put on my most comfortable pajamas, and watch a couple movies or something." Mary sipped her soda. "You need to relax."

  "You need to relax," Cole echoed, "which is easy for you to say. And a hot bath? Really? Did I become a girl at some point and just not notice?"

  "Hey, it doesn't matter who you are. A hot bath always feels good. And no one said you have to tell the guys at the gym or whatever that you occasionally indulge in a hot bath. That's between you and your tub."

  Cole shook his head, then quickly drained his soda and stood up.

  "Leaving so soon?" she asked.

  "Leaving so soon? Yeah, I figure I might as well get my resume in order just in case," he said.

  Mary sighed. "Your negativity is baffling. You're a handsome young guy with your whole life ahead of you, but you spend your time moping around like someone killed your kitten. It's kind of disheartening."

  "It's kind of disheartening. I'm sorry I'm such a downer," he said. He gave a half-hearted smile. "Usually it takes a ton of alcohol to get me so mopey. I guess your soda was stronger than I thought."

  She swatted at him. "You're cute when you're silly. Get out of here."

  He got, heading over to his place.

  This was the earliest he'd come home on a weekday since he moved in. It was actually kind of eerie to be in his apartment now, like he was doing something he wasn't supposed to do.

  Cole shook his head and turned on the TV first thi
ng. He needed some kind of noise to break the uncomfortable silence. Then he went to change out of his work clothes. He could never relax with them on and he always felt like he was about to be yelled at and buried under a pile of paperwork.

  He must have fallen asleep because he was drawn, stumbling, out of his chair by the ringing of the doorbell. It was instinct that had him sleepily walking to the door and squinting through the peephole.

  Through the fish-eye lens, Anderson actually looked rather ridiculous. Large head, small body; it was like one of those caricature sketches. Cole half-expected him to be wearing over-sized skis.

  He opened the door with a feeling of dread. "What are you doing here?" It was probably a very rude way of addressing the man that was his boss.

  Anderson gave him a charming smile and held out a plastic bag. "I come bearing gifts of food. Can I come in?"

  Though a part of him was yelling that he should slam the door, Cole wordlessly stood aside.

  He caught a whiff of expensive cologne and take-away food when Anderson stepped inside. The man looked around curiously.

  "Nice place," Anderson said without a trace of irony. He probably lived in a palace somewhere and had servants that catered to his every whim.

  "Nice place. Why are you here?" Cole asked again, hoping the different wording would net him an answer.

  Anderson sighed and his shoulders slumped a little. He looked tired and from the suit he still wore, he'd come directly from work. His red and black striped tie drooped loosely around his neck. "Mary called me and told me you were freaking out. I figured I'd come by in person and tell you that you're not fired."

  "And tell you that you're not fired. And the food? You just accidentally brought that along?" Cole raised a skeptical eyebrow.

  Anderson shrugged. "There's no accident to it. I was going to call you and invite you to dinner, but things kept interrupting... but since I'm here anyways, I thought 'Why not?' Besides, I figured you might be hungry."

  "I figured you might be hungry," Cole echoed. He wasn't sure if he was supposed to be angry or not. "You basically decided we were going to have a date without asking me? You don't think that maybe that's just a bit presumptuous?"

  "'Presumptuous' is my middle name," Anderson said, then shook his head, "no it's not. Honestly, my middle name is Herman. Please don't spread it around."

  He walked over to sit the bag on the coffee table. "Seriously, I figured you might appreciate some dinner."

  Cole opened his mouth to say something, but the loud gurgle his stomach made precluded speech. He could feel his face burn with embarrassment.

  He'd been sent home before lunch and the clock on the wall said it was nearly six. He was actually pretty hungry.

  Anderson's laughter was sudden and bright. He opened up the bag and took out two styrofoam takeout containers and two forks.

  "Don't call it a date if you don't want to. This is just food and you need to eat food to survive." He opened the containers side-by-side on the table and poked a fork in each serving of glistening lo-mein noodles, the vegetables cooked to perfection. "I didn't know if you ate meat or not, so I went with the safe vegetable bet. I hope you like noodles." He looked at Cole through his ridiculously long lashes.

  "I hope you like noodles," Cole echoed, his tone irritated. He could feel his irritation melting away with the presence of Anderson, which kind of made him more irritated. "Everyone likes noodles. And I'm not a vegetarian. I love meat."

  Anderson's lashes lowered almost coquettishly. "Good to know." He sat on the couch and patted the spot next to him.

  Cole felt his face burning and almost raced into the kitchen to grab two cans of soda from the fridge. He pressed one against his cheeks, hoping the chilly aluminum would help him regain his cool.

  He is totally flirting with me, he thought. What do I do?

  He went back into the living room and nearly flung one of the cans into Anderson's hand before sitting on the couch. He imagined he could feel a line of heat all down his left side and his cheeks were probably bright red.

  He leaned forward and grabbed the remote control, changing to an episode of "Doctor Who" on BBC America. It was one he'd already seen, but he was willing to pretend to be interested. Besides, it was a David Tennant episode, his favorite doctor.

  "You know what I don't understand is why BBC shows so many American shows," Anderson grumbled. "Like 'Battlestar Galactica' and 'Star Trek.' They're great shows and all, but I tune in looking for stuff like 'Upstairs, Downstairs,' 'Coupling,' 'MI-6,' or like 'Wire In the Blood.' They had episodes of 'Ab Fab' on Logo, for God's sake."

  Cole raised an eyebrow at him.

  Anderson flushed under his attention. "Yes, I admit that I'm a nerd. Sometimes I even play WoW for days and I paint figurines."

  "I paint figurines. Okay, so you're a bit more nerdy than I ever thought you would be, but I don't mind. I think it's kind of cute." Cole felt the tips of his ears burn super hot and he shoved a forkful of noodles in his mouth.

  "So I'm cute, am I?" Anderson's blue eyes glittered almost too brightly and he sounded incredibly pleased. "Well, I'll take that. You're pretty cute too."

  There was a hot guy sitting in his living room eating Chinese food and flirting with him. Anderson looked like he totally didn't belong with his thousand dollar suit, his perfectly coiffed hair and the semi-awkward way he had to bend his knees to accommodate Cole's second-hand furniture. Yet he talked sci-fi shows and video games and he called Cole cute.

  It was baffling and strange and Cole really didn't know what to do. So he ate lo-mein noodles and discussed the merits of the various Doctors with a man that didn't seem to care about his echolalia.

  It was weird, but good.

  * * *

  After an exhausting day dealing with a kind of incompetence that he hadn't really believed could exist in real life, then having a wonderful dinner experience with a man he thought he might really like, Anderson called his father.

  "They had one guy doing all the work," Anderson said. "They were just dumping everything off on him, and they weren't even nice enough to give him a good office. He was working in a closet."

  "Why didn't he complain to HR?" George asked.

  "He didn't even know that what they were doing was wrong. Everyone has treated him like crap since he started at the company. Looking at his file, he's been pretty much used as everyone's bitch boy from his first day."

  "Why did people think they could take advantage of him?" George asked curiously.

  "Cole has a speech condition called echolalia. It's related to Tourettes. He repeats the last thing someone says to him, and he's really shy because of it and seems to have a hard time talking to new people."

  "Cole? You're on a first name basis with this guy?"

  Even knowing his father couldn't see him, Anderson felt his ears burn. "He's Mary's next door neighbor. I met him the other day. He's a nice guy."

  "A nice guy,huh?" There was a healthy dose of amused suspicion in George's voice. "Why do I feel like there's more to it than that?"

  "I have no idea what you mean," Anderson said, trying hard not to think about earlier. "The issue at hand is a bunch of grossly incompetent employees that have been dumping all of their work on one man for close to two years."

  George was pragmatic. "Fire them."

  Anderson groaned. "You know how I hate doing that."

  "There's no real choice here. We've been paying those idiots top dollar to screw around. Talk to Landry in HR and have them all fired. No severance packages for anyone."

  Anderson felt a wave of distaste, but he knew there was no real choice. Bester International could not keep employing a bunch of people that did nothing but sit on their ass all day. Playing some online farm game did not count as productive behavior.

  "I'll talk to Landry," he said glumly.

  "Good," George said. Then, in a much lighter tone, "Are you seeing anyone?"

  "Dad!"

  "What? I'm an old man and
I'm just getting older."

  "You're not old and you know it. And no, I'm not currently seeing anyone."

  "Hm."

  Anderson groaned. He could always tell when something was going on in his father's mind. "Are you going to make it to the company picnic?" he asked in an attempt to change the subject.

  "Of course I'm going to be there. When have I ever missed the picnic?"

  "Never," Anderson said, relieved that his dad seemed to have accepted the subject change.

  He wasn't ready to share Cole with anyone else just yet. He wanted to keep him all to himself.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Going to work made him nervous. There was just this sense of impending doom when he stepped in the building. And even though no one was probably paying any attention to him, he felt like everyone was staring at him.

  Then he got to his section of the building and he realized everything was going to be completely different. It made his heart do that nervous stuttering thing in his chest and his hands felt sweaty.

  Everyone he knew was gone and a bunch of new people were unloading stuff into desks and carrying boxes into offices that no longer had nameplates.

  "What's going on?" he nervously asked a woman sitting at what used to be Bill Hueng's desk.

  She looked up from where she was busily arranging pens in a hot pink cup. "This department got a complete overhaul and we're replacing the former employees."

  Cole felt all the blood drain from his face. "We're replacing the former employees. I thought I wasn't going to get fired. Why didn't anyone tell me I was fired? What am I supposed to do?"

  A warm hand landed on his shoulder, squeezing. "You're not fired," Anderson said, standing next to him to survey the activity. "I told you you wouldn't be and you're not. You're about the only one we kept."

  "You're about the only one we kept." Cole turned to look up at him. "Why? I don't understand."

  "Come with me to my office." Anderson's hand almost reluctantly left Cole's shoulder and he strode toward what used to be Mark Etty's office.