by Lym Cruz
Exasperated, I sat up straight.
“What’s up with you?” Sienna asked. She stuck out her tongue, pointing to the sketchpad on my desk. “Is it the owner of the eyes you draw?”
A growl left the back of my throat.
I had two things I did well—besides helping drug dealers launder money—one was dancing and the other was sketching.
I tore off all the pages from the pad with drawings on them, crumbled the papers into a ball and threw them in the bin by my feet. Sienna was referring to the sketches I used to make of Melissa. They have been there for a while and I forgot to discard them.
“Why are women so complicated?” I posed the question to no one in particular.
“We’re not,” Stacie said, tilting to look at me. “At least I’m not.” Frank snorted but kept his head down. “Do you have something to say?”
“Nope,” Frank responded. “Not at all.”
“That sound you made was definitely something.”
Frank sighed and sat on his desk where we could all see him. He was a tall African-American with broad shoulders who, according to Sienna and his fiancée, had a smooth smile. “Y’all are never clear about what you want. If you’re mad say you’re mad. Don’t go around bitter-faced and murmuring in the corners, come out and say, ‘I’m pissed at you.’”
“We do, you guys don’t listen,” Sienna said.
“I mean, say it with words,” Frank explained. “Ver-ba-lize your feelings.”
Stacie pushed back her chair and stood upright. “Fine, I’m pissed at you.”
“Finally.” Frank lifted his hands to the heavens. “What are you mad about?”
“You lied to me, Frank. You said you weren’t talking to that Betty or whatever the hell her name is and last night she called at two in the morning. Her number is still programmed on your phone.”
Frank laughed wryly. “She called me and I didn’t answer. I was asleep. I didn’t call her back and I’ll block her number right now.” He picked up his phone. “See how easily things are solved when people communicate?”
“You’re only blocking it because I brought it up.”
“So?” Frank said, raising his shoulder as if he’d heard the most absurd thing in the world. “It’s what you want.”
“What I want? You should want it… Just forget it.” Stacie sat back down and covered her face with her hands.
“See what I mean?” Frank shook his head. “She said, ‘forget it’, but this convo isn’t even close to being forgotten.”
I laughed. “Stacie has a reason to be upset.”
“No, man.” Frank furrowed his brows, on a head shake. “Don’t indulge her. I don’t see a reason.”
“What I mean is why are some women nasty to others for no apparent reason?”
“PMS,” Sienna blurted.
“Or they were having a bad day,” Stacie said matter-of-factly.
“The whole flux of hormones makes some really cranky, then there’s pregnancy, and—”
“Or having a bad day,” Stacie repeated firmer, cutting her off.
“Y’all should wear a label. That way we’ll know which version we’re getting when you wake up in the morning.”
“Ha. Ha. Ha,” Stacie huffed.
“Is this about the girl in your drawings?” Sienna pressed. She’d asked me who it was countless times and I never answered, regardless, she never missed an opportunity to inquire.
I narrowed my eyes, shaking my head with disapproval. “Let it go, Sienna. There’s no girl.”
“Well, that’s good to hear.”
“Get back to work,” Vinnie yelled from his office.
“Aye-aye, captain,” we choired, teasing him.
The week zoomed by. Before I knew it, Sunday had arrived. I drafted pictures of landscapes as a way to pass time. My house was depressingly quiet. So quiet I heard the hands of the clock on the kitchen wall move. And the water drip from the broken faucet in the kitchen.
Days like these made me realize how much of a loner I’d turned into. The few friends I had, I pushed away since I met Rowan. The fewer people I got attached to the better. I stopped going to Vella and spent my free time in this house that I shared with my father. He was a trauma surgeon and was currently somewhere in Europe attending a forum. But even when he was home he was never at home. Therefore, his absence wasn’t felt.
Monday morning, I received a call from Vinnie; he informed me that he wouldn’t make it to the office today because he had something to take care of. Again, he wouldn’t give me any specifics and that had me suspicious. His absence also meant that I had to conduct the interviews on his behalf.
Three interviewees later, and I was no closer to finding our newest employee and the young man leaving the office wasn’t a fit either. I looked at the cubicles from the transparent walls that enclosed Vinnie’s office and both Stacie and Frank shook their heads disapproving.
“Fuck,” I muffled.
Vinnie should have been here, conducting these interviews himself. The process was tiresome and Rowan kept calling me. Although I had gotten rid of half the money, he kept pressuring me to move faster. And since I was busy with the interviews, I asked Sienna to make a few deposits for me. She didn’t know what the money was for and she never questioned me either. I hated involving them in my under the table dealings, but I couldn’t do it all alone.
I looked at the next application and my eyes squinted hoping the name on the paper would change. My brain stuttered for a moment and every part of me paused while my thoughts caught up with what I was reading.
“How’s it going boss?” Stacie said. I glanced up with a look of horror or shock. I still couldn’t believe who the next candidate was. “That bad? Just hang in there.”
At 3:23, a light knock caught our attention. I lifted my gaze and there she was. Christina.
She strolled in and was greeted by Stacie. She had a smile splashed on her face that fell the second Stacie showed her the office and our eyes locked. It was as if the impact had knocked every wisp of air from both of our lungs. Her mouth hung with lips slightly parted and her eyes were as wide as they could stretch. And I struggled to inhale. To exhale. To do anything.
“It’s okay,” Stacie said, encouraging Christina who was rooted on the spot to proceed. “You don’t have to be nervous.”
Christina cleared her throat, squared her shoulders and took one small step forward. Frank gave her a sly appreciative glance that went unnoticed by Stacie. Nodding, he gave me a thumbs up and I reminded myself that I had to be professional and unbiased.
Christina wandered in, stood facing me with her hands knotted in front of her and forced her lips upwards. “Good afternoon Mr. Collin, I’m Christina Garza. I’m here for the job interview.”
She seemed different today. Her thin lips were coated in a light brown shade and her long black hair was up in a high ponytail. A long-sleeved blouse was tucked neatly into a tight, black, knee-length skirt that did her hips justice and heels that gave her petite form an additional three inches.
“Please have a seat, Miss Garza.” I pointed to the chair opposite to me. “As explained in the email the position is for a bookkeeper and assuming you’re familiar with what the job entails, I’ll skip that lesson and tell you that we are a small firm as you can see, and our work goes beyond the description on paper. We’re all hands-on and do what is needed to ensure the well-being of the company and client satisfaction.”
She nodded and I continued, “I’ll ask you some basic questions and if at any moment you wish to ask some yourself feel free to jump in at any time.”
She nodded again. The only thing I wished for was that she would be terrible and answer the questions poorly, contradicting her impressive student record.
I looked out and all eyes were on us. I shifted and sat up, my back against the chair. “You’re inexperienced, why should we appoint you for the position?”
“For my dedication and effort. Once I put my mind to something
, I’ll go all the way to achieve my goals, which will benefit the overall development of the firm. All I need is the opportunity to show how passionate I can be.”
“Let’s assume it’s your first day on the job, you’ve got all the paperwork out of the way and I sat you down in front of our accounting software, what’s the first thing you’ll do?”
She looked up as if the answer was dangling from the ceiling and crinkled her nose then pinned her dark eyes on me. My pulse raced with the intensity of her stare. “I’d want to review your balance sheet, profit, and loss. I’d want to get a sense of whether the books are accurate and if so, how accurate they are. If not, I’d need to work with you, the previous bookkeeper or even the owner to look at the receivables and make sure I get everything up to speed that way I’ll be confident and able to produce accurate financial statements.”
She didn’t even stumble.
“Suppose you did the review and you found that the records were off by a very small margin what would you do?”
“There should be zero tolerance for any differences in reconciliations. Everything that went through the bank should be accountable for, even if it takes more time to find it.”
The following questions she answered with brilliant ease. She was smart and the more she spoke, I perceived how much. Having exhausted all the technical questions I asked the last, “Tell me about yourself? Why do you think you’d be a good fit for Collin Books?”
Her lips twitched but she wasn’t able to make out a sentence. I cocked my head and waited.
Silence.
Her hands trembled and she closed her eyes, taking in air. The question was simple. I didn’t care for the answer because she did brilliantly but her reluctance to answer was strange therefore, I repeated the question, “Tell me about yourself, Christina?”
Silence.
“You know what?” Christina said, slipping out of her professional mode, giving a glimpse of the Christina I knew. “Let’s cut the bullshit and stop pretending we don’t know each other.” She rose from her chair, placed both her hands flat on the desk and leaned on them. Her blouse lowered and it wasn’t my intention to look, but her breasts were right there in plain sight, held up by a thin black bra. She had an impressive rack. “If your judgment is going to be based on our previous encounters then let me know right now, so I don’t waste my time.” She stood and crossed her arms over her chest, lifting her breasts.
I leveled my gaze to hers. “Why should I hire you?” I maintained my tone even and expression blank. This had nothing to do with anything but right now. “Tell me about yourself.”
Her lips set to a firm line and her jaw hardened. I didn’t understand why it was hard for her to answer the damn question or why I cared that she wouldn’t answer. For a moment, I’d even forgotten she was the same drunk girl from the club and the lunatic from the bookshop.
“You know what?” Whenever she asked that question nothing good followed. “Fuck you, Ezra.”
I was right.
“Honestly, Christina what’s wrong with you? What the hell triggers your rage?”
“You do,” she yelled.
“Me?” I yelled back, grimacing.
“Yes! You make me uneasy.”
“How? I barely even know you.” I shook my head and murmured aloud what was meant to be an inner thought, “Is it PMS or another bad day?”
Frowning, she paced closer and put her palms flat on the desk again but this time I didn’t lower my eyes from hers.
“Yes actually, I am on my period.” The look in her eyes was almost terrifying. “I started my day by waking up in a pool of my own blood. Is that how you’d like to end yours? ‘Cause I’d love to crack your skull open and watch you bleed.”
Jesus.
“Hey,” Frank stormed in. “How about we call it a day. Christina, right? Let me grab you a glass of water or something, we can all leave this office alive today.” When she didn’t move, Frank held on to her forearm and guided her out.
I couldn’t understand that girl. One moment she was fine, then the next moment she wasn’t. Before, our most recent encounters the only conversation we ever had was in the vein of: “Hi, how are you?” I swear that was it. How could I trigger her rage? She was the one who infuriated the hell out of me.
Stacie hovered around the door of the office, laughing. “What did you do to that poor girl, Ezra?”
Shrugging my shoulders to my ears, I shook my head. “Nothing.”
“You did something,” Stacie said in between laughs. “Nobody gets that upset over nothing.”
“I’m not hiring her,” I muttered mostly to myself.
“That is a smart decision,” Stacie joked. “But if it were up to me, I’d hire her just to watch the two of you interact daily, though. I mean she seems smart, she’s feisty and hates your guts. It would be a bloodbath.” Stacie laughed even louder, continuing to entertain herself with my misery.
By the end of the day, I was left alone finishing work that I’d put on hold with thoughts of Christina lingering at the forefront of my mind. I searched for an indication of what caused today’s outburst and found nothing. She was like a puzzle with a thousand pieces, except the more I tried to figure her out the more confused I got.
My phone chimed and Melissa’s picture showed up on the screen. I let it continue ringing wondering why, she of all people, would be calling me.
Out of curiosity, I took the call. “Melissa?”
“Yup, it’s me and I need to talk to you. It will only take a minute.”
“Now?” I couldn’t contain the surprise in my voice.
“Yeah, um, I’m on I-5 North, getting off Cesar Chavez.”
“I’m still at the office but I’m guessing you were on your way here anyway.”
She chuckled. “I’m not exactly sure where that is though.”
“I’ll text you.”
“Thanks, see you soon.”
I sent her directions and waited. My wait wasn’t long until she knocked twice and poked her head in. I invited her in and offered her a seat. She declined any refreshments saying she wouldn’t take up too much of my time.
Melissa glanced around the office. She was in a long-sleeved, black dress and flat shoes that popped out from under her dress when she crossed her legs.
When she didn’t say anything, I began, “You needed to talk to me?”
She shifted her attention to me. “Christina.” Her eyes narrowed, and she recoiled almost as if waiting to be stricken.
Of course, it had to be that. “Nope, nope, and no.” I shook my head resolutely to accompany every word.
“Ezra, come on, please. She needs a job.”
“Good luck to her finding one.”
She sucked in a breath, collecting her thoughts. “She told me the interview went badly. She wasn’t expecting to find you here. I know she might have done or said some things, but she didn’t mean them. Christina is going through something. I don’t know exactly what and she won’t talk about it either. I figured if she had a job to focus on it could help her deal with whatever is going on with her.”
“I’m sorry, Melissa, but I can’t. This is my family’s business and I won’t jeopardize it by hiring your friend. That girl is a loose cannon and I can’t trust her.”
“She’s not like that and the only person she’s been lashing out on is you.”
“And yet you want to trap her, every day, in an office with me for eight hours. It’s not going to work out. Why don’t you give her a job?”
“Don’t you think I’ve tried? She doesn’t want my help. She wants to do it on her own. Ezra, she’s been on dozens of interviews, applied to every accounting job listed and nothing. I wouldn’t be asking you this if it weren’t important. Give her a chance, three months trial, if she screws up then fire her and you won’t hear a word from me.”
Three months? That was way too long for her to screw up.
“She’s smart,” Melissa insisted, “and you know it. Ezra,
please. She’s a great person.”
“I’m sure Hitler’s mother thought he was a great person too, and look at how that turned out. You’re her friend and you want to see the best in her. Too bad I don’t see the same qualities.”
Christina was bright—no doubt about it—but being smart wasn’t enough.
I felt sorry for Melissa, with every passing second of my denial her eyes grew sadder.
“For the sake of our friendship, Ezra. Please give her a chance.” Her phone beeped and she answered it, holding up a finger to me. “Andrew, seriously, give me a few minutes. I’m alive and well.” She hung up and put on her sad face.
“No. I’m sorry, Melissa.”
I wanted to help Melissa for the sake of our friendship—or what was left of it—however, I wasn’t sure about Christina. I scratched my head avoiding Melissa’s pleading eyes.
“Please, Ezra,” she repeated it like a tune. After realizing the approach wasn’t getting her anywhere, there was a swift change in her tone from imploring to businesslike. “Okay, let’s be practical about this.”
Her words piqued my curiosity. “Go on.”
“I’m part owner of a large tech company. I’ve got connections that might benefit you and your firm. If you help me, I’ll owe you big time and if you ever need a favor, I won’t blink. I’ll agree to whatever you want. No questions asked.”
“No questions asked?” I echoed hoping she’d understood what she was offering.
Melissa was a powerful woman, connected to powerful people and in my situation those alliances were valuable.
“Fine,” I replied after a few minutes of thought. “I’ll hire her but one step out of line and she’s gone.”
“Fair enough. All I want is that you give her a chance.” We shook hands, sealing our deal. “One more thing, don’t tell her I was here. She’d kill me if she knew.”
“I don’t think she’ll believe the job was given to her because the interview went well.”