How Not To

by Devin Sawyer

  “You can call me Evan,” he offers and moves to take a seat across the table from me and he pats Ari affectionately on her shoulder as he passes her, but my blood’s already run cold as realization rocks me. Evan. The same one from that summer. I look over to Ari who I can tell is trying to avoid my eyes and look natural, she looks anything but that at the moment, because she knows what I’ve just realized who he was. So much for not getting into our past. What a warm fucking welcome. Are they fucking? Is he her side piece now? Because I clearly saw a photo of a different man sitting in her office just yesterday. Evan and I have never formally met, but I remember clearly who he is—dollar movie theater man. More of the team strolls into the room, and I am further introduced, but my gaze feels locked, my brain frozen in time. I assess him all these years later. While he’s probably not a bad looking guy in women’s eyes, all I can see is an overgrown kid with his headphones. Who the fuck goes into music when you come from his affluent background? I’m sure this kid has a legacy to take over some day and he’s fucking around in the music biz. My eyes glance over Ari’s body and I have a feeling I know what convinced him to stray. The meeting eventually starts, and I unsuccessfully make an effort to stay on task, attempting to chime in with input at all the appropriate times, despite my distractions. I set up my security at the first few locations they have blueprints for, all the other specialties pitch their ideas as well with Ari leading the way with suggestions on music, and food and design. I follow as much as possible, not wanting to miss something that might put one of us at risk, like blocking doors and windows.

  When the meeting concludes I hang around the conference room again and I offer to help Ari put up the paperwork and materials she had out, but I have my own reasons for helping. My anger is tempered, and I feel more out of control than I have in years. In the last two days, my body has been back and forth between anger and want. Back and forth between wanting to know her and wanting to run from her. I feel disrespected that she didn’t have the decency to warn me that I might run into even more “old faces,” as if seeing hers yesterday hadn’t been enough to process.

  “What the fuck is this, Ari? A fucking game? You could have warned me about that.” I’m engrossed in what feels like rejection and manipulation. This was not how things should have started off, this is exactly what Barb said to avoid, but I wasn’t expecting things to be thrust in my face.

  “It slipped my mind that you knew, or knew about, Evan I guess. I’m sorry, but he’s the best in the area and he’s great at working with our crazy schedule and last-minute demands.” She sighs, flustered. “And I trust him.” She emphasizes this last part to me and I feel wounded by it. I’m not sure if she’s trying to indicate she doesn’t trust me or just that he’s been there for her when she needed him. I don’t fucking like it either way. “You have an office here,” she tells me, her voice a little more controlled than seconds before. “It’s small, but I’ll take you to it and you can pull yourself together in there. I’m sorry that was sprung on you. It was not my intention.”

  I disregard her statement, not ready to open myself up again. I am out of my mind to take this job. I want to pin her in a corner, I want to run, I want to touch her, hold her hand, and I want to yell at her for not waiting. This relationship is anything but professional—this is a calamity.

  I follow her out of the conference room down a hall to a large open room filled with cubicles, but she ducks off to the side where a wall is lined with smaller offices. I notice that some of the other vendors have their own in this same area.

  “It’s just a desk, computer, and a printer, nothing large. You’re welcome to work from home if you need to, but John encourages working here at the office, it helps build morale. I think we could all use a bit of that right now. If you need anything let me or Allison, my assistant, know and we’ll either find it or get it for you.”

  I nod my head with a sneer still glued to my face and walk in. I don’t bother telling her that all I need is the old Ari back, or even a chance. My discomfort subsides minimally as she leaves. I set up my laptop on the desk and open it. I pull up my email and type something quick out to Gavin. We don’t talk much, but we email each other frequently. He’s still got the shop. I don’t tell him about Ari because I don’t want to worry him or Dad. There’s nothing like a twenty-eight-year-old man hiding secrets from his family again and it continues to make me bitter as I brood in my closet of an office. I am lucky to even be this hidden away. I lose myself in my work after that. I make plans for which men will cover which events and their roles. I communicate with Grady as needed on all the men and get his opinion on many things. It probably would be easier to have him here most days anyway. Toward the end of the day, I send John an email and CC Ari in it mentioning that I’d like to have my head of security present for future meetings and that I’d like to clear that with them, see if there is any paperwork to be done. John emails me back first a few minutes later, even though he is supposed to be on vacation and clears Grady, saying that he’s welcome and Ari can set him up at a cubicle if he needs one. I forward the emails to Grady and let him know he can start attending next week, or sooner if he prefers. Right now, the guys have a short hiatus to spend time with their families following the Thanksgiving dinner celebrations we worked last week. The twelve men were spread between two different celebrations that day and everyone worked. I know it’s time to hire more bodies to give my current guys a break, but being a fairly new company, it still makes me nervous to employ more people. I feel lucky to have a company that’s bonded together so well. We’re a popular agency with young military veterans just getting out, still feeling the need to protect. We love hiring those guys because they pass the firearm test no problem and outside of that it’s a week and a half of training.

  A knock at my door shakes my focus and I see Evan leaning against the door frame.

  “Hey man, mind if I come in for a second?”

  He enters my office and starts to shut the door before I can even respond. I know he must be around Ari’s age, but I feel like the boy in front of me looks like he’s never had a care in the world. I don’t allow myself to even wonder what an easy life might have been like.

  I wait for him to talk and lean on the side of the desk, folding my arms over my chest in an impatient manner.

  “Look, man, I finally remembered how I knew you. We haven’t met before but finally the name clicked, and then there’s the way Ari was acting all weird in the meeting.”

  I don’t bother to tell him I had spotted him once before when he was on a date with my soon-to-be girlfriend.

  “I remember Ari after that summer. She was in rough shape for a long time but she’s come back to life working here. I don’t want that to go away again, so I hope that we can all make this a flawless holiday season for her. She deserves it.”

  “Yeah, well I have a fairly successful new business, and I plan on keeping it that way, but thanks for the pep talk, Ivan.” I fuck up his name on purpose and laugh internally because it’s childish but watching him get all butt-hurt over it is worth it.

  “It’s Evan.” He doesn’t yell, but his voice is firm. “Look bro. I’m not the enemy here okay? I’d like to work together amicably. Maybe we could even be friends if you get that bitter look off your face.” I hate the way he says “bro” like what he really meant was “hey asshole.”

  I feel my heart rate spike and my agitation at the thoughts running through my head begin to overwhelm me.

  “Did you fuck her?” I finally get the words out. The ones I thought of for months, years even, and my pride takes a hit, because now I’ve revealed my weakness. The way I imagined her running into his arms to heal her heartache. He’s the only guy I knew at her school, his face was the only one I could imagine and it’s haunted me. I wanted to appear neutral, aloof, but that is proving impossible anytime I’m in the vicinity of that woman.

  “Is that what this is about? No. Okay? I never did. Not for lack of trying,” h
e scoffs. “But I was only ever a shoulder to cry on, and then a good friend. I was there for her over the past years.”

  I hate that he’s admitted he tried. I want to ask him about her. I want to pick his brain about how she was those years and what she was really like. I want to fill in all the holes in my past. My few interactions with her have only been surface talk, but I want to make him the enemy more than I can swallow my pride.

  “I’m here, man. Everyday. Come find me if you wanna talk or if you want guidance. We are family here at Eventor. And even though we got off on the wrong foot, I’m not going to hold any of it against you. It’s got to be rough to come back after all these years, and I won’t pretend to understand what you’ve been through in the meantime. I only know what she’s been through and that’s enough for me to reach out and let you know that IF you decide this place is worth it, I’m here to help.”

  He walks out and closes the door behind him. I stew in my silence and run my fingers through my hair. I only thought I had met my demise all those years ago sitting in a jail cell.

  Chapter 19

  Ari

  My phone vibrates on my desk and Brad’s name lights up the screen. I discreetly ignore the call. I was avoiding Brad, unsure of him, unsure of us. He had been texting each night, trying to plan a date, but I pushed back that this was the busiest time of year around the office and I didn’t have time. He hasn’t called as much since then, and that hurts. I wanted him to fight a little harder, but that was unfair of me to expect, especially as I continue to avoid him. I don’t even know how to begin to explain the mess I’m in.

  Torren’s return was haunting me. I could feel Torren in the office. I could feel his eyes on me, his presence, everywhere I went. A shiver runs through me. I have spent every night since his return in a panic. At ten each morning we gather for our daily meeting and review the agenda that John put together. He calls the shots and I implement them. It’s been a fairly smooth working system so far. Until today, when I announce that John wants us to do a team building event scheduled for this afternoon. There are groans across the boardroom. He’s required these occasionally in the past when we are gearing up for a big event. He wants all of the staff to be on the same page and bonding well with each other. Last time it was a capture the flag event, before that it was team bowling. This time he’s booked one of those escape rooms, a zombie theme. I inwardly groan, but at least the guys now seem slightly more intrigued. I provide everyone the address and tell them to be there by three. For the rest of the day, I stick to my office. I attempt to ignore Torren’s presence, but I feel as if he walks past my office a billion times a day on purpose.

  When two-thirty hits, I clean up my desk and head out to the escape room center. There’s a much larger crowd this time and many people I don’t recognize, Torren’s men are here and Joyce has her different catering teams here as well. She seems a little standoffish and I hope that this event gives us a chance to get to know each other a little better as she’s one of the new vendors as well. The escape room caps teams at eight people due to space limitations, so I have to do a head count and decide that we will need five teams. I draw up numbers one through five and tear them up. I snatch the cap off Evan’s head and throw them in.

  “Alright everyone, pick a number and that’s your team. They only have space for two teams at a time so teams one and two will go in first, the rest will wait across the street at Miller’s taproom. When the first groups finish, they will wait over there for the rest of us to finish. Capiche?” I get a slew of nods and complacent remarks. Everyone picks a number and I’m left with the final slip of shredded paper. Team four.

  I yell out for each team to gather in a different part of the room and groups one and two are led to their starting place. I go to stand by my group which I just so happen to notice has Torren standing with my other team members. Shit. Allison is there too, and I sigh a breath of relief that I’ll have her on my team.

  We all head across the street to the bar to wait for our turn. I order one of the one hundred and thirty beers they have on tap. It’s actually a pretty impressive place with photos on the wall of the people that have tried them all. We grab a large picnic table outside that has outdoor heaters all around it. I don’t make the team do icebreakers like John suggested because I can only handle so much team spirit in one day. We drink, we talk, we get to know each other, and we laugh. That’s pretty solid comradery if you asked me. I get to know some of the workers from everyone’s teams. We don’t see them in the office as much and it’s a good opportunity to learn the names of everyone that will be working the events. I’ve made my rounds with a couple of the laborers we’ve hired for setup and breakdowns, as well as Torren and Joyce’s teams. By the time the third team gets called over we’ve all had a few drinks and I’m less confident in our ability to outsmart the other teams due to drunkenness. The first two definitely had the upper hand. I’ve just ordered my fourth beer when my team gets hailed over and I can’t leave the bar with it, so I do the only sensible thing and chug it before running across the street to catch up with them. The alcohol buzzes through my veins.

  Upon arriving back at the escape room, we are given the basic guidelines. There’s been a virus outbreak turning everyone into zombies, we are being sent into the lab to find the cure. There will be a slew of puzzles and each one unlocks the next clue to the file cabinet where test subjects and cures were stored. We have one hour, or our brains are devoured by zombies. Simple enough. We are handed lab coats and the timer starts.

  We rush in and quickly take in our surroundings. A large room is filled with fluorescent lighting, a desk with a computer, various other random objects and a table in the center of the room and our first puzzle sits there. Multiple sets of numbers and we need to decode the next number in the set. We start searching the room for clues, numbers or even letters that might give us the next set of hints. I try the computer, but the screen is locked and requires a passcode. The same amount of numbers as the clue we are currently trying to solve… well, at least I know what to do with it when we find it. I check all the drawers in the desk, but they are locked, except the last one. I find an envelope.

  “Hey, hey guys, I found something.” We huddle around the table as I pull a paper from the envelope and read off a letter from one of the last surviving scientists. He records the outbreak of the virus and how he ran out of time to complete the antidote. At the bottom, there is a number six written in bright red marker. We scour the room for more numbers and Allison finds the number one on a coffee cup that looks like it wasn’t even washed before the virus took over and a seven etched into the desk, and then two of the other workers each find a seven and two around other objects of the room. We take the numbers and run over to the computer and try them in different orders. After various attempts, Torren discovers it, it’s a date. 07/26/17. No one knows what the date means but when Allison types it into the computer we hear the noise unlock the screen and we jump for joy. He looks awfully arrogant and proud of himself. I try to ignore him further as we’ve wasted fifteen minutes finding the first clue. We navigate into the lab files and discover that to get to the antidote, we must access the fridge. I assume the chemicals are stored in there for mixing. We all look over to the fridge and notice the thick chain and a combination lock wrapped securely around the handle preventing us from opening it, and we are back to square one. A defeated sigh leaves the team in unison as if we thought it would be this easy. On the fridge are three different elements from the periodic table written in the same marker as the previous numbers we found scattered around the room, so we know it means something.

  “Search for the periodic table,” I yell over to Torren at the computer.

  “Look up these elements. Lithium, Arsenic, and magnesium.” He finds them, and the team gathers around to dissect the meaning. Are these the items we will need to mix? How are we supposed to get our hands on these or even recognize them?

  “We need these elements. Search
the room for them,” I yell out to the team and we all scatter, lifting things and looking under everything in the staged room. Torren stays put, staring at the screen, studying it intently.

  “It’s not the elements,” he says under his breath.

  “What? Why don’t you help us search?” I inquire, annoyed at his good-looking face staring at the screen, brows pinched in confusion.

  “It’s not the elements. It’s not that easy. Plus, you would never mix those things.”

  I continue to lift mock papers on the desk, looking in the trash bin. “How would you know?” I roll my eyes and am annoyed at his lack of support. So much for team bonding.

  “Because they’re toxic. They would poison you before you even made it to the zombies. Now, will you listen to me?” he snaps. I stop what I’m doing, a little shocked. I haven’t seen him annoyed with me ever before. If I didn’t feel so insulted right now, I might actually care that he could be right. But mostly, I just think he’s being an asshole. I walk over to him until I am almost chest to chest with him.

  He whispers to me, “You don’t always know what’s best, Ace.” He accentuates my old nickname.

  “Yeah, well excuse me if you haven’t been the most reliable source either,” I snap back.

  “Okaaaay, why don’t we try whatever Torren’s idea is and go from there? I’m not trying to die during team bonding,” says Hector from catering, whom I met only an hour earlier over at the bar, breaking up our tenuous moment.

  We continue to hold our stare, neither one of us breaking from it or backing down. I can feel the other’s eyes on us, seeing first hand our tension. Torren rolls his eyes in exacerbation but doesn’t stray from my gaze.

  “The chemicals aren’t real, Hector, they just wouldn’t work. I’m thinking we associate their numbers on the periodic table to the lock. Someone stand over by the fridge and I’ll call them out to you.” He leaves me, breathing heavily, and annoyed as hell, to return to the computer screen.