Chapter Six
The next week of work would have been a mess but I was coming into my own as an office manager. I think I handled the circumstances surrounding Malia's death well. My memo went out. None of the other managers had a problem with the wording. They let it go out without alterations and without altercations. Apparently, for most of them it was the first they heard about what happened to Malia. I didn't litter the memo with details but said she was murdered. The team downstairs probably wouldn't have known who she was, even if they saw the news report. I put a personal anecdote about working with Malia and how you could always rely on her commitment--the usual spiel. I ended with remembering Malia as a friendly colleague and hoping law enforcement brought the perpetrators to justice. I painted Malia in as best a light as I could. Some of it was true though. On Friday, I did my presentation on the changes to the company 401(k). It went well. I followed the same rules I followed in marketing. Be heard. Be Seen. Be quick. Be seated. Overkill is suicide. Plus, the senior managers were upset about me calling the meeting in the first place. So I gave them all the information they needed, then gave them their time back. I knew the presentation worked because a handful of employees I never met came to me and thanked me. They were enrolled in the 401(k) since joining the company but had never had it broken down for them so well. They were grateful. Because they were busy, they didn't have time to read the literature. That’s the world of insurance.
Camille came to me after the presentation. I was already back in my office. I guess she waited at her desk until I came back. She was nice, as always. I told her I regretted not being able to work with her as much, because of my new promotion. She said she was proud of me. It felt like coming from a kid sister. I still had the lingering image of Camille as the sister I never had. If I had a sibling at all, I always thought of my brother or sister as being younger than me. I guess that's why my mind liked to play with the idea. It made me feel sad that we didn't have time for that relationship to blossom. I had a feeling we would've grown close. As office manager, I had the ability to change things going forward. She told me she'd like to invite me to happy hour, after work. It was Friday afterall. We didn't hang out at all after I got my promotion. We were due. She told me she'd wait around for me. I usually sat later than her, so I could understand her wanting to get out of the office at the usually time. I checked all my emails. I responded to the ones that were urgent. I sent an email to Olina, the bitch-of-an HR Manager. I basically asked, not told, her that I thought Camille was a great fit for my old job. I reminded her that Camille was technically still a temp. Putting her in my old position would make her permanent. I even offered to train her. I liked it. My situation was sweet 'n sour. I was getting paid more. I was getting the new job down. But Malia was murdered and Longboard probably had something to do with it. But he wasn't around. If he did kill Malia, he was smart enough to jump town.
I was glad Camille was downstairs waiting and sipping a mochaccino. It was only twenty minutes past six. But I didn't want to walk down to the garage alone. I hadn't seen Longboard in about a month. But I didn't want to. Between Longboard and Malia and the blackmail, I wanted to steer clear. Malia had been murdered. It most likely had something to do with Longboard. Didn't want to think about it. All of it was beyond me. Camille had her legs folded and was wearing the same cork heels she wore at Osmi.
"You ready to go?"
"Yep," said Camille.
"Do you know where you wanna go?"
"I know a bar but I don't know if we can make it for happy hour," said Camille.
"OK. I usually go to a place that's not far. We can make it."
"Then let's go to your place," said Camille.
"Awesome. I would've had to take you there sooner or later--nice vibe."
"Sounds good," said Camille.
"How 'bout you follow me out. That way we can stay later if we want to and you can just leave home from the bar--no coming back to grab your car."
"Good idea. I love rolling with a pro," said Camille.
"Don't we all." Ginger Snap wasn't that crowded, ever. That was part of its collective charm. There were a few dudes in suits seated at the bar. The bar was for the neophytes. They where the ones who thought Ginger Snap was about sushi and sake. The sushi and tempura was good. But if you stayed downstairs, you missed the upstairs ambience. And upstairs was all about ambience. We found a booth in the back left corner. Camille suggested it. I liked the fact that my promotion didn't intimidate her. She was cool with taking the initiative. It didn’t matter that I was senior management and she was a temp. She just wanted to hang out. All titles were left back at the office.
"Ok, there's one thing about this place that's not so handy for the inebriated. You actually have to go downstairs to the bar to get your drink."
"Oh wow," said Camille, "That could be dangerous."
"If you're a professional drunk you never spill your drink."
"That's true," said Camille.
"But to be honest, I've never seen drunks up here on the second floor."
"Really?" said Camille.
"The ones up for that kind of play usually stay downstairs."
"What do they sit at the bar getting drunk?" asked Camille.
"That's exactly what they do."
"Makes sense," said Camille.
"I don't like sake but apparently they have a very good one they sell downstairs."
"I bet they do," said Camille, "I could see some business types coming here to celebrate and getting shit-faced."
"Possible. Usually you see a dude in a suit with loose tie looking like his dog died."
"I guess sake is more of a drink for when you're down," said Camille.
"You know you might be right. I never actually thought of it that way."
"So what would you drink when you're feelin' the life?" asked Camille.
"That's a good question. I'll show you. There's the drink menu."
"Some of these drinks I've never even heard of," said Camille.
"Sounds like you like this place already."
"It's got a nice atmosphere," said Camille, "And all the stuff on the wall looks actual."
"It's all legit, everything. A lot of it was picked up at auctions and garage sales around O'ahu."
"Do you know the owner?" asked Camille, "I mean how did you find this place? You seem to know a lot about it."
"The owner is originally from Japan and so is my grandma so I think their parents were friends."
"So your grandma's family were friends with the owner of this place," said Camille.
"Yeah, I think it was started by the parents and now their son runs it. I think the son was friends with my grandma since middle school or something like that."
"That's so cool," said Camille, "Do your parents live on the Island?"
"No they actually left for my dad's job and moved to Florida. I was in high school when my dad's job transferred him. I chose to live with my grandma because I didn't want to change schools. They're both remarried with step kids. I don't actually speak to them that much."
"Oh," said Camille.
"It's not that I don't have a good relationship with them. We send birthday cards and emails and phone calls. But the time difference is six hours and we don't see each other that much because of the distance. So I would say we don't try to over exaggerate our relationship. I go pick them up from the airport when one of them flies in. But I've made a life here for myself on O'ahu. It's where I grew up."
"Are you glad you stayed instead of going to Florida?" asked Camille.
"I am. I got to dodge my parents' divorce. I just had to update the situation in my head. If I had gone, I would have had to live through it."
"You have a way of staying positive that's just so wow," said Camille.
"Hashtag LOL."
"I'm serious," said Camille, "You just seem to roll with the punches. Maybe it's a Hawaii thing."
"I thought Californians were pretty chill."
"They are," said Camille, "But then we have our zillas."
"What zillas?"
"Well I'm a nature-girl," said Camille, "I'm green. I shop with my canvas bag. I use energy-efficient bulbs. I do my part, right? But I had friends in school who would like write go green on someone's Ford Excursion or like a Jeep Wrangler or something. OK, we all know those things are gas-guzzlers but you don't have to be all about hostility. You know, I mean I understand being passionate for a cause. But some people are like aggressive about the environment."
"You've got those here."
"Yeah but here I can actually understand it because Hawaii has a history as a kingdom and you wanna respect that," said Camille, "But I mean if someone drives an Excursion, maybe they have a big family and they're kids are into hockey and they need just need hella room. You don't know enough about someone to start scribbling on someone's truck with shoe polish."
"That's some bullshit."
"That's the thing about Cali," said Camille, "Cali has so much going on that it attracts a lot of talented people. But there's that chip that so many people have on their shoulder. Like the actor types down in LA and the tech-types in the Bay Area. It's just that idea that Cali would be one of the world's leading economies, without the rest of the US. People get weird with that. They can't handle it."
"That's funny. They can't handle it."
"They can't," said Camille.
"You know what you wanna order?"
"This one sounds good, Island And..." said Camille.
"What's in it?"
"Pineapple juice, Triple Sec, grenadine and coconut water," said Camille.
"Hmm...that sounds interesting."
"Served in a hurricane glass," said Camille.
"Fancy on a Friday."
"I gotta bring some Cali swag," said Camille, "Every now and then."
"Good for you. Don't let the Island take you over. You do you."
"I'm trying," said Camille.
"I can see that. I'll be right back. It's called Island And...right?"
"Yep," said Camille, "But can you tell them to give me the drink without the Triple Sec? I don't feel like alcohol just yet."
"OK." I went downstairs to get drinks. I came back up gingerly. Camille's drink had an umbrella in it. I never had luck with umbrellas in drinks. They always fell in or out. I walked slower up the stairs than usual. It meant I was gone for a while. The cool thing about it was that Camille waited. She wasn't texting. She wasn't fooling with some app. She was just sitting at the table waiting for me to come back. And the same thought came to my mind. Maybe Jessie really found the Holy Grail by being into girls. A dude wouldn't have spared a sec. As soon as I was out of sight, he would have shot a text to his boy. Even on a date, dudes needed a wing-man.
"Here's yours."
"You ever have a drink that looks better than the picture?" said Camille.
"Oh yeah, all the time. But it's usually like the forth or fifth drink."
"Ha, that's true,” said Camille, “My problem is I'm usually not standing by the forth or fifth.”
"Really? You went to college, A.K.A. drinking school. I figured you could hold it down."
"I'm just small, like five feet and a half inch. I've got plenty upper body but no muscle," said Camille, "I'm top heavy. I'm genetically predisposed to do a face-plant after one too many drinks."
"Oh damn. Wait. I don't mean to offend but are your boobs real?"
"Yeah, they are." said Camille, "I get that a lot."
"Good for you."
"But yours are real too," said Camille, "They're nice. Mine are just all over the place."
"I'm actually rocking the silicone but I wish I were on the real side."
"Well, you have to plan a lot with these things," said Camille, "When I was interviewing for Key Way, I wore a minimizer because I didn't want to look like a Pro-miss."
"What's a Pro-miss?"
"It's something we say back home like She's not a little miss, she's a Pro-miss. It's promiscuous and Miss put together," said Camille.
"I like that, a Pro-miss, a Pro-miss. That's funny. But I get that. It's a lot of work when you're well-endowed."
"It really is work," said Camille, "I like that you put that word in there."
"I can only imagine. I mean with these things, the bra is mostly for posterity. They pretty much keep themselves in line."
"So I guess your tatas are well-trained," said Camille. It made me laugh.
"What drink did you get?" asked Camille.
"It's called an Even Split."
"I'm guessing you've had it before," said Camille.
"Sure. This is my jam. Wanna try?"
"Sure, but just a sip," said Camille, "Tastes like a banana split."
"That's the general idea. How's yours?"
"It's good," said Camille, "But I think I like yours better."
"Grab one next round."
"Sure," said Camille.
"I wanted to tell you I sent off an email to Olina, the HR Manager, about getting you into my old job."
"That's great," said Camille.
"Do you feel like sticking around?"
"Yeah," said Camille, "Paying rent is a wonderful thing."
"Agreed."
"But," said Camille, "There's something I wanted to tell you."
"Sure, what's up?"
"I'm pregnant," said Camille.
"OK. Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"
"Well," said Camille, "That's what I want to talk to you about."
"OK. How far along are you?"
"Like four weeks," said Camille.
"OK. Do you want it?"
"I do," said Camille, "But there's a but."
"What's the but?"
"I don't have a boyfriend and I slept with the same guy twice and it happened," said Camille.
"Were you on birth control?"
"I was but I stopped," said Camille, "Because I went on antidepressants about two months ago. So I was told by the doctor and the pharmacist that I should stop taking it while on antidepressants."
"You always seem so cheerful. Why were you on antidrepressants?"
"I just started having panic attacks a few months ago," said Camille.
"Related to what?"
"Well this is my first job after college and I really wanted to get picked up to be full-time," said Camille, "But no one was saying anything about making me full time. So my mind started to go. I was thinking OK, I just got an apartment but I might have to move back home to Cali. But I've been out here all this time. And I didn't know what I'd do. Because I have friends who've already been hired on full time. It was just overwhelming because the thing that I didn't want to happen seemed like the most likely thing to happen. And I was working so hard all this time."
"You have been working hard."
"Well that's the thing," said Camille, "I wanted to be proactive. That's what the lady in career counselling said. She said the people who get hired are proactive."
"I would say she's right. But you are being proactive. You show up on-time all the time. You work hard. You do everything that's asked of you. Why would you think they wouldn't take you?"
"Well no one mentioned anything to me," said Camille, "So I tried to be proactive in another way."
"What way?"
"I went to talk to David about maybe being able to get in as an adjuster on his team," said Camille, "I told him I'd been around for about four months as a temp but I didn't know if they'd make me permanent. But I wanted to stay with the company."
"You mean David Addox."
"Yeah, him," said Camille.
"What did he say?"
"He gave me his card and told me to send him an email with my CV," said Camille.
"Did he contact you?"
"Yeah," said Camille, "He asked me to drop by his office and introduce myself so he would know who I was. I dropped by during my lunch hour. It was a Tuesday or Wednesday."
"OK."
"I get
an email on that same week on Friday to come to a happy hour with some of the adjusters," said Camille, "He said it would be a good idea for me to meet some of the team to see who I'd be working with. So I go and hangout. It's mostly dudes but there are like two other women there. No one really talked to me at length. How long you been with the company? That sort of thing."
"So what did David say?"
"He was cool," said Camille, "He was like, Do you really wanna work with this group of clowns? And he was being all funny. Then he invited me to lunch on Saturday..."
"Wait. Wait. You're pregnant. You said you don't have a boyfriend. So, is David the guy you've been sleeping with?" Camille looked off to the side. A breath went in. She held it. Then it came out. Her held tilted down then came up. She turned her head back to me.
"Yeah, but it was just twice," said Camille.
"Camille, life goes by the One Time Rule. It only takes one time to get yourself stuck in knee-deep."
"Yeah," said Camille, "I dismissed one thing for sake of another."
"It often happens like that. Don't beat yourself up. You focus hard on something you really want and you ignore the laws at play."
"Yeah," said Camille, "Plus he's married. Apparently he's estranged from his wife."
"He says. I think they all say that as a way to justify it to themselves."
Choppy (Desk Surfing Series Book 2) Page 7