by Camy Tang
“Lex, I’ll have to call you back.” She headed up a couple floors to where the programmers’ cubicles crowded the office floor like Tetris, and just as colorful. Computer science guys tended to have the weirdest, funnest, wildest games for their desks. No simple basketball hoops over the trash cans for these guys. They had Space Invaders jaws over their trash, which chewed up any incoming bogeys that the sensors detected.
“Hey, Venus.” She caught a bright pink and green Nerfball in the shape of a pair of antlers that was thrown at her. It had “Down with Ms. PacMan!” written on it.
She threw it back to her senior graphics designer. “You’ll get in trouble, brandishing that in here.” The gamers still slavishly devoted to old-school vintage games would lynch him. Or at least spill soda on his keyboard.
“Bring it on.” He growled and struck an Incredible Hulk pose.
She hurried to the back of the large room, past more cubicles. Men stared at her. They usually did, now. They hadn’t even seen her before the weight loss, despite the fact there had been more of her to see.
A part of her slumped in the cynical observation that she had to work her tail off to earn respect whether she was fat or skinny, only to find she didn’t get it either way.
She entered a cluster of cubicles inhabited by her programmers. “What’s up, guys?”
“Check it out.” Jaye—a senior programmer, one of her oldest friends, and her secret business partner—pointed to another programmer’s screen. They all crammed into the cubicle to look.
While staring at the screen, Jaye jostled her elbow and whispered, “Venus.”
She turned her head slightly. “What?”
“Yardley came to talk to me today.”
Cue the creepy, urgent music from Saw. “About?”
Jaye pressed his lips together for a second. His breath whistled through his large Roman nose. “Said we might have a new development tool to work with. Something that will integrate all areas of game development, be compatible with all programs.”
Venus stared ahead but didn’t see the monitor anymore. “Did he say where that tool was coming from?”
“No. Evasive about it, but seemed pretty certain we’d have it in a few weeks. Clear he didn’t know I’m working on it with you.” Jaye cleared his throat. “You wouldn’t want to give Yardley our—?”
“Are you high? Of course not. We’re partners in this.” They had been the Dynamic Duo ever since they thought up the Spiderweb years ago, when they’d been working together at a startup company.
“Thought so.” He turned to glance down the aisles between the cubicles. “Wanted to give you a heads-up. Don’t like where this is headed.”
“I’ll try to fix it.”
“Might not be able to fix this one, Venus.”
“So, what do you think?” One of the junior programmers turned and stared at Venus through his green Lennon glasses, waiting for an answer.
She’d completely missed the problem they’d been showing her on the screen.
“Venus!”
She was almost glad for the interruption, until she turned to see Edgar hustling down the aisle between cubicles straight for her. Lovely.
“Hi, Venus.” His round face pulled into a childlike smile. She almost couldn’t tell how false it was. “Where are the weekly update reports?”
“I gave you the ones I drew up from last week.”
“Where are this week’s?”
“That’s your job now, Edgar.” She pitched her voice like Vietnamese iced coffee—sweet and bitter at the same time.
His smile stayed in place, but his hand came up to finger his thick, curly brown hair. “I, ah, just sent you an email.”
“About?” She rested her weight on one hip, keeping her face neutral.
“Let’s go to your office so I can show you. It’s all in the memo.”
“I’m taking care of something here. I’ll join you in a minute.” She turned back to the gaggle of programmers.
“I need you now, Venus.”
His tone had been light, but the words made her shoulders slam out and back into steel rods. She felt a growling deep in her gut, a tiger that wanted to come roaring out of her mouth. He had not just reprimanded her in front of her programmers. She turned to him.
Her gaze should have blasted him colder than arctic winds from a frozen tundra. He kept smiling, although his hazel eyes seemed to glow like coals.
They stared each other down, him with steam and fire, her with chilly disdain. Her feet were killing her, but at least her stilettos raised her five-nine stature above Edgar’s average height.
“I could reassign one of your programmers.” His smile still had that gentle, reasonable curve that belied the fireballs coming from his eyes.
She heard soft intakes of breath from the programmers behind her, unwilling witnesses to the showdown. This particular group was a fantastic team, one of the best she’d ever worked with. Any reassignment would be a demotion for the unlucky guy.
She had frozen into an ice statue, vibrating with the resonance of her anger. The resonance grew louder, and she started to visibly shake. If she didn’t do something, she’d shatter into a million pieces. “You’d do that, would you?”
“I would.” That soft, childlike smile. She wanted to slap it off his face.
“I’ll go with you.” Her voice had gone low and dark. She leaned in close enough for his expensive cologne to clog her lungs, for his pupils to dilate as she blocked out the light from the windows that surrounded the entire floor. “But if you order me or threaten my programmers again, I’m going to break your nose.”
His smile didn’t change. He wasn’t afraid because he didn’t believe her. He only saw a woman with too much pride and arrogance for his taste.
His loss.
She turned and led the way down the aisle. He was probably staring at her rear end, but she didn’t want him in front of her—didn’t want to watch his confident swagger. She might be tempted to connect her pointed toe into his behind.
Back at her office, she sat at her desk to check her email. He followed and closed the door, his hands in his pockets, a picture of leisure.
He’d sent it right after she’d left her office. Re: Responsibilities. Venus, this is Edgar.
Well, duh.
I’m very excited to have you on board and know that with your help, we can take the company to the next milestone… Yeah, yeah. She skimmed the feel-good fluff.
Detail of your responsibilities: Weekly update reports…scheduling programming projects…liaison between programming managers and VPs…
Everything she had been doing as acting Game Lead. She looked up at him.
“What do you think?”
“I think you’re on crack.”
His smile widened, but his eyes grew harder. He suddenly looked ages older than his twenty-odd years.
“I’m doing the exact same things I did as acting Game Lead, in addition to my normal duties as Programming Lead.”
He spread out his hand in a conciliatory gesture. “Well, you do everything so well—”
He was an idiot if he thought she’d buy that line. “In case it didn’t occur to you, I am no longer acting Game Lead. You are. Ergo, these duties should fall on you.”
Edgar shoved his hands back in his pockets and turned to stare at something on the ceiling, releasing a long sigh. “There’s always a transition phase—”
She was going to smack him if he kept using that voice, as if talking to a six-year-old. “I gave you my latest reports and schedules. You have everything you need to take over smoothly.” Just try to talk your way out of this one, slimeball.
He turned his focus back to her with that horrible, simple smile. “Venus, Venus.” His condescension shuddered down her back like the Banshee Demon’s screech in level three. She jerked in her chair as he continued. “As Game Lead, I have many duties assigned to me, and it’s my job to delegate.”
“These particular duties bel
onged to both me and the former Game Lead, and now to you.” What makes you so much more special than either of us?
“Yardley has given me other things more pressing.”
Oh, excuse me. His smugness, exuding from him in waves, made her cough. “Since your new responsibilities are so important to your reputation, I’m sure you want to make sure these things are all done well, and you’d want to take them on yourself to ensure that.” Edgar was all about how he looked to others. She was sure to appeal to his vanity.
“You’re so encouraging, Venus.” His smile actually showed teeth, now, but the way his mouth opened, they looked like fangs. “But that’s why I’m delegating those duties to you. I know how capable you are. I can trust you to do the job and do it well.”
“Not if I have to take up the reins as Programming Lead again. I’m sure you remember all the things you had to do as one of my junior programmers, don’t you, Edgar?” She couldn’t stop the hardness of her voice as she spoke.
The moron chuckled. “You’re more than capable, Venus.”
That was it. Her ire erupted like Diet Coke and Mentos. “Well then, why aren’t you capable enough to handle the duties I did as acting Game Lead, now that you are Game Lead?”
His amiable mask cracked. He gurgled in his throat. “I have other duties—” His smile was strained now, and it looked like he was opening and closing his fists in his pants pockets.
“Like what? Golfing, online poker, surfing the Web?”
“It’s from Yardley, and you don’t have clearance to know.” His anger flashed out at her like a poisoned dart.
“I have a right to know since I’m taking over all the responsibilities you’re too incompetent to do yourself.”
He sputtered a few moments, his breathing coming hard and heavy. “Yardley is going to hear about this.” Saliva showered through his clenched teeth. He turned and whipped open her office door.
She shot to her feet and toward the door. “Feel free.” She slammed the door behind him and almost caught his suit jacket.
She started pacing the small floor space. She was breathing too fast; she needed to calm down. She tried staring out her one small window into the company parking lot, but she saw Edgar’s new Lexus parked across two stalls in the shade of the only tree in the entire lot, and it made her want to go down and key it.
She couldn’t work for him. She’d commit homicide first. And she’d like it.
But she wasn’t ready to start her own company.
Like she’d even have the time to work on the Spiderweb with all the extra junk she’d have to do for Edgar.
She was drawn to the window and Edgar’s double-parked sedan like someone who couldn’t stop picking at a scab.
Did she and Jaye have the guts to start their own company, to strike out on their own? She’d always been able to count on others in her team to support her, to help her take the brunt of any mishaps. She always took responsibility for her team members—that was her job—but she’d never been in a position where everything rested solely on her shoulders. As a cofounder of her own company, she’d fall on her own. And to rise, she and Jaye would need a good team—how could they find the right people? They didn’t have the contacts. How could they keep from making any mistakes in judgment?
They needed someone with more experience and with contacts. Someone like Grandma.
She couldn’t believe she was considering it.
Grandma was such a cool customer. Venus couldn’t quite make her out. She didn’t like when Grandma pushed her—Venus delighted in defying her, actually—but other than that, she didn’t really know her. She supposed Grandma didn’t really know Venus either.
Going to Grandma for help was playing with fire. Venus didn’t like taking the risk of whatever Grandma would demand in exchange. She didn’t like being bullied. But did she have a choice? Staying here while she worked on her own project wasn’t going to fly. They intended to work her like a dog or force her to quit.
Her back snapped like a whipping ruler. She didn’t like being manipulated. She determined the course of her own life. She made her own decisions.
Problem was, they had the upper hand.
Is this what they wanted? To lose her? Weren’t they shooting themselves in the foot? She’d improved productivity when she’d stepped into acting Game Lead. Did they really think she’d continue all her duties without the title?
She’d face Yardley. He’d always struck her as reasonable and competent—until yesterday’s decision, at least. She’d lay out her duties, tell him what Edgar told her. Ask him if he really expected her to do this. Facing him that way was more aggressive than even she liked to get, but she couldn’t cower in the corner while they screwed with her life like this.
And if he didn’t give her the answer she wanted to hear? Was she willing to quit?
She took a deep breath, feeling her lungs stretch and fill, tightening against her ribcage, pushing against her diaphragm.
Yes. She was willing to quit.
FIVE
Yardley’s admin looked up at Venus over the large flat-screen computer monitor on her desk, her kohled and turquoised eyelids blinking slowly. Insolently. “I’m sorry, Venus, Yardley’s down in meeting room B with some investors.”
Okay, not the best time to walk into a meeting. “How about afterward?”
“He’s scheduled to meet with Edgar at four, right after the meeting.”
The admin had given her the runaround yesterday, but Venus wasn’t in the mood to play that game today. She strode around Tiffanie’s desk and peered at the schedule on the screen.
“What are you doing?” Tiffanie tried to blank the screen, but not before Venus caught sight of an eBay auction she was watching.
Venus stared hard at her. “You’re the reason Yardley sent that memo about not doing eBay during business hours. I thought it was strange…”
“I don’t…this is the first time.” But Tiffanie’s eyes blinked so rapidly, one of her fake eyelashes came loose at the corner.
Venus crossed her arms and looked down at her with as stern an expression as she could muster. “Schedule me for ten minutes before Edgar. He can wait.”
Tiffanie sullenly grabbed her mouse and made the appointment.
“No, don’t send it to his PDA right now.” The last thing she needed was for Yardley to be forewarned he was about to be attacked. “Send it right at four, when my appointment is scheduled.”
She turned to wait in one of the chairs situated around Yardley’s office, then checked herself. She’d walked through Human Resources and past a few VPs’ offices to get here. They might warn Yardley she was waiting for him here.
She’d waylay him as he got out of that meeting.
She marched out the way she came and headed downstairs to meeting room B. She turned the corner and—wait a minute, the meeting room door was open. She peered inside.
Empty.
What? What was the time? Three forty-five. They’d ended early. That meant Yardley would be walking the investors out the front door. She hustled toward the lobby.
No one. She turned to the receptionist. “Did you see Yardley?”
“He went upstairs.”
“Back to his office?”
“No, he was talking with one of the VPs and they mentioned stopping off at the third floor.”
She hustled up the steps. Halfway, she took off her killer heels and ran the rest of the way, grimacing as she slipped them back on at the third floor landing. She burst into the hallway and walked at a fast clip around the offices. Edgar’s office, some empty ones, the copy room, the lunch area, her office… No Yardley.
One of the interns was copying something at the copier. “Did you see Yardley?”
“He got a call just as he stepped off the elevator. I think he headed toward his office.”
Back into the stairwell, up another flight of stairs. Her steps dragged as she got onto the landing. Too much walking in new shoes. She’d treat herself
to a soak in her foot massage spa tonight…oh wait, Trish was still in the hospital. She glanced at her cell phone. No text message from Lex. Still in labor? What was she carrying, twins the size of melons or something?
She ran back down the hallway toward Yardley’s office. His admin caught sight of her and called out, “He was here, but he just went back downstairs. ”
This was not happening.
Her cell phone rang. She considered ignoring it—talking to Yardley was more important. She hustled back toward the elevator (no stairs for her this time), but the incessant ringing finally made her reach into her jacket pocket and pull it out.
Yardley.
“Hello?” Why would he be calling her? Not that she was complaining.
“Venus, where are you? I’ve been looking for you. We need to talk.”
She stood there, in front of the elevator doors, wondering if she wanted to cry, scream, or faint.
“Venus?”
“I’ll meet you in my office.”
“Good, I’m headed there now.”
She strolled into her office hopefully looking composed and unruffled and not as if she’d just run up and down the stairs. She sat at her desk and discreetly slipped off her shoes. “I made an appointment with you at four, but this is good timing.”
Yardley sat in one of the leather chairs opposite her and smiled that blinding, I’m-a-Harvard-grad-and-I-want-you-to-know-it smile. “I wanted to talk with you yesterday, but I was too booked.”
He could have had Tiffanie email her to set up a meeting today, but she didn’t mention that glaring fact. “What did you want to talk about?”
“You mentioned you made an appointment—what did you need?” He smoothed his Italian silk tie—burgundy, today.
“Edgar mentioned he had extra responsibilities from you that didn’t allow him to do the normal functions of his new position.” There, that was somewhat tactful.
“He does have some new responsibilities, yes.”
“Then you’re aware he’s forcing me to continue doing everything I did as acting Game Lead, in addition to my old duties as Lead Programmer?” She pinned him with a hard look.
