by Camy Tang
Venus tried not to raise her eyebrows. Jaye rarely brought up the R-word. Not that she talked about God much to him. “I asked him last night. He said his sister went to church there and knew they always needed more youth staff.” Who woulda’ thunk Gerry was Christian? Not Venus. But Drake had also mentioned how Gerry had been going since her divorce, and that it had seemed to help her.
Nancy swooped in and removed Jaye’s empty plate. “Go ahead and work, guys. I’m going to clean up. But Jaye”—she motioned with her head toward their son—“will you take him so I can clean up that mess?” Jaye Junior had gotten more food on himself, the floor, and his tray table than inside his tummy.
Jaye swiped at Junior’s mouth, while the baby started squalling and pitching his head back and forth. “Come on, dude…doesn’t like it when we wipe his mouth,” he explained to Venus.
Mental note: wipe her own child’s mouth early and often to develop good sense of hygiene. It could work, right?
“Got the bugs out of the Spiderweb? No pun intended.” Jaye tried to get at a piece of carrot that Junior had shoved up his nose.
“Not yet. I still can’t figure out why the tool won’t work with the MoCap data you got for us. I’ll work on it. It depends on how much time I have in the next month. I’ve only been at Bananaville for a few days.”
“Need more data to test it. Guessing it won’t be a good idea to use the MoCap studio at Oomvid.”
No, they certainly couldn’t use her former employer’s equipment to test software they’d tried to steal from her. “Options?” They’d been lucky to get the original data from some friends who had worked at a studio and done the sessions for them for free, but the friends had since left the studio.
“Rent someplace. Got friends who might know the guys who own that small one in South San Francisco.”
“I’ve been thinking about the business side. Grandma said to be prepared, and she meant more than just the demo. So I’ve done some market research on our game idea.”
“Unique enough for the market?”
“We’re both going to have to see if we can hear anything about what’s in the pipeline. Right now, the all-female cast isn’t a completely unique idea, but has audience appeal. We need a good designer and animator.”
Jaye screwed up his face, but Venus couldn’t tell if it was because he was trying to get pureed squash out of Junior’s hair or because he was thinking of where they could find a good animator.
“Whoever we choose has to be top notch. We don’t want to get into that same fiasco that ProvoTech did a few years ago.” Fiasco was a nice way of putting it. ProvoTech had hired someone who turned out to be a complete amateur, and the time wasted had made ProvoTech the laughingstock of the entire game industry for months.
Jaye groaned. “Remind me of my year in purgatory, why don’t you?”
“I told you not to work for them.”
“Already used up your quota of ‘I told you so’s.”
“So how are we going to find an animator who’s both legit and good?”
Jaye finally cleaned his son’s dinner off his person. “I’ll do some research. Got to be a few who’d make good team members.”
They spent a few minutes chatting about other things until Nancy could take Junior from him. They spent the next few hours on work. Jaye tested the program that Venus had brought with her, making comments on problems.
After they were done, they ended up playing SOCOM: Disaster against each other, as usual. Nancy didn’t mind because unlike Jaye, Venus could hold a conversation while playing.
“Ha ha!” Venus took out one of Jaye’s men. “So, how’s Jaye’s mom?”
Standing beside the couch and watching, Nancy gently rocked Junior. “Not so well. She insists she’s okay, but his sister says she’s moving slower and she’s a little unsteady on her feet.”
“She still won’t move out here?”
“Nope. It would make it so much easier. Jaye’s sister went to the doctor last week because she’s always tired. Doctor said it’s stress because she has her kids, and then she has to go over every day to check on Mom. At least here, we and his brother could split the time.”
Venus had a fleeting thought about her own mother, and what she’d have to do when she needed more care. The family would expect her to care for her mom, even if said mother had been a royal pain for most of her life.
She blew up a tower. “Ha!”
“Do you miss it? The gaming competitions?”
Venus positioned herself to take out the fort wall. “No.” She rarely talked about those days. Usually she changed the subject, but maybe because she wasn’t working for a game development company at the moment, she felt more comfortable answering Nancy’s questions.
“But you won so much money, everyone loved you.”
“Everyone hated me. They wanted to beat me.” Venus also suspected they’d hated her because she was a girl, she was overweight, and she’d beaten them, but she couldn’t exactly prove it. “They were all relieved when I retired. And then I got a job at TrekPaste and met Jaye.”
“And the rest is history.” She laughed and bounced Jaye Junior. “Jaye says you’ve worked for your boss before.”
“Drake? Yeah, at TrekPaste. We both worked for him.”
“You must enjoy working for him.”
Jaye snorted.
“What?” Nancy sounded confused.
“At TrekPaste, I got into a fight with Drake and quit.”
“A fight?”
“We disagreed about…” What could she say? She couldn’t blurt out the truth that she’d thought he had the morals of a sociopath. “…respect. It was his company, so I quit.”
“That’s a bit extreme.”
“Even for you,” Jaye piped up.
“Not really I have to work for people I respect, but who also respect me. He didn’t respect me, plain and simple.”
“He didn’t respect you? Why’d he hire you?”
He’d hired her because he had admired her programming abilities. She’d been promoted because they recognized her leadership abilities. But he’d stopped regarding her as just a programmer as soon as she shed all that weight, because suddenly she wasn’t just his employee; she’d become someone he could use. Venus laughed off Nancy’s question. “He respected me until he got a taste of my temper.”
She trounced Jaye, as usual.
“Why do I bother?” Jaye flung his controller down.
“You say that every time.”
“You’re even talking the whole time we’re playing.”
“It’s that extra X chromosome.” Venus got up, gave Nancy a kiss on the cheek. “Thanks, Nancy Great dinner.”
“You don’t come over often enough, Venus.”
“I’m usually too busy Like your husband.”
Nancy rolled her eyes. “At least it’s better than when he was working for startups.”
Venus pulled on her trench coat. “Jaye, I’ll try to get the bugs worked out by the end of the month.”
“Kind of fast. Sure you’ll have time?”
“Pretty sure.” She paused at the doorway “I’ll get Bananaville’s technology together in no time.”
Monday was not the day for her coffeemaker to give up the ghost.
The smoke rising from it clued her in. She yanked the plug out and turned on the fan over the stove before the smoke triggered the fire alarm. Great. It was only a few years old.
And now she had to drive while uncaffeinated.
She almost got into two accidents on the way to work. Well, three if she counted the incident at the light. She was in the right turn lane, there weren’t any cars coming, and she expected the Honda in front to make the right turn, so she gave a little gas. Then she had to jerk to a halt when she realized the Honda wasn’t moving.
See? She drove terribly without coffee.
She’d just turned on her car alarm when Esme came racing out of the doors into the parking lot. “The Web director
just quit!”
Venus stopped, wobbling a little in her four-inch heels. “Now?”
“I just got in, turned on my email, and there it was. She sent it on Sunday.”
Venus had a fire to put out, and she hadn’t even entered the building yet. “Where’s Drake?”
“He’s not coming in today.” Esme skipped next to Venus to keep up with her longer stride. “He had to take his mom to the doctor.”
“Is Gerry out too?”
“No, she’s in and she’s a bit upset.”
That was an understatement. She heard Gerry’s raised voice as soon as she opened the glass door into the lobby area.
The first thing she saw was the backside of a tall, gray-haired man in a fine blue suit. At seven thirty in the morning? Why didn’t anyone do things during normal business hours? He hovered near the receptionist’s desk while Darla smacked her gum and listened to the telephone. She kept her eyes glued to her computer screen, and Venus already knew she was playing a computer game while on the phone. “Sorry, she’s not answering her phone. You’ll just have to wait.”
This was too much like déjà vu. Venus approached the man and stuck out her hand. “Venus Chau, CTO. Is there anything I can help you with?” She pasted a smile on her face while dreaming of coffee. Another few minutes.
He shook it. “Bruce Whittaker. I’m here to see Gerry Yu.” He winced as Gerry’s voice rose a notch. Venus wondered who she was yelling at. Luckily, the bend in the hallway prevented them from hearing her very clearly.
“Please sit down, Mr. Whittaker, and I’ll get Gerry for you.” She turned and headed out of the lobby area and down the hallway, trailed by Esme.
A sharp rap on the door stopped Gerry’s hollering. Venus entered without waiting. “Bruce Whittaker is here to see you.”
Gerry’s hair had turned into a bird’s nest, possibly from pulling at it. Venus didn’t really blame her.
The cowering website programmer standing across from her desk had smudges under her kohled eyes and gray tears running down her cheeks. Venus pulled a tissue from the box on Gerry’s desk and handed it to her. The programmer—Venus couldn’t remember her name—honked her nose.
“Gerry, what’s wrong?”
She waved a hand at the programmer. “She almost crashed the system this morning.”
“But I didn’t,” the girl sobbed.
Venus exhaled slowly. “Gerry, it’s not the programmer’s fault the Web director quit.”
Gerry’s face paled as if she’d dipped her face in rice powder, but she didn’t respond.
“You should maybe freshen your lipstick before you see him,” Venus said.
Gerry looked a little lost, possibly because she might not have remembered who Bruce Whittaker was. “He’s waiting in the lobby?”
“Yes. He looks like he’s been waiting a few minutes already.”
That shoved Gerry into action. She smoothed down her hair, grabbed her purse from under her desk, and headed out to the women’s restroom.
The frightened programmer stood there sniffling and looking from Venus to the empty desk and back again. Venus pointed out the door. “Go on back to work.” The programmer scurried out.
Esme sighed. “Wow, you took care of that so well—”
“I’m not done yet.” She marched out to the lobby and approached Mr. Whittaker. “Gerry will be out momentarily. We apologize for the wait.” She turned to Darla with a glittering smile. “Darla, sweetie, can I see you for a quick moment?”
Darla stopped mid-chew, giving Venus a nice view of her pink gum smashed against her molars.
“Close your mouth, dear.”
She closed it. “But the desk—”
“It’ll only be a minute.” Venus showed more of her teeth.
Darla rose slowly, like a guillotine victim mounting the steps to her doom. Which wasn’t too far from the truth. Venus followed closely behind her into the hallway. “My office, dear.”
The three of them entered Venus’s office. Esme closed the door, and Darla jumped at the sound.
Venus didn’t sit down. She stood in front of her desk and took full advantage of her heels to look down at the hapless girl. “The next time a man in a three-thousand-dollar Versace suit walks into the lobby, you do not play computer games while he’s standing there.”
“I wasn’t—”
Venus stopped her with a finger in her face. “Don’t. Lie. To. Me.”
Darla closed her mouth and started to shake.
“You also don’t call Gerry when both you and the man in the three-thousand-dollar Versace suit can hear her all the way in the lobby. You get your lazy butt up off that chair, and you go to Gerry’s office to let her know that a man in a three-thousand-dollar Versace suit is waiting to speak to her.”
“I didn’t know he had on a three-thousand—”
“You treat every person who walks through those doors as if they have on three-thousand-dollar suits. You will also get rid of your gum.” Venus grabbed her trash can and held it in front of Darla’s face. She spit it out. “And you will start dressing like a receptionist. None of this stuff.” She flicked at the faux pink fur glitter shell top, which Darla had paired with a black leather miniskirt and black boots.
Darla’s cheeks turned as pink as her top. “I can dress the way I want to.”
Venus brought her face close. “Sure you can. And I’ll speak to Drake and get you sacked within the hour.”
Darla sniffed and raised her chin. “Gerry and Drake are my cousins.”
No wonder they kept this little tramp. “Good. Because there shouldn’t be nepotism in a company, anyway.”
Darla’s eyes glazed over. “Nepo…po…”
“Nepotism. Hiring one’s relatives. Bad business practice.” Venus crossed her arms.
Darla looked both confused and frightened, and not sure what she was confused or frightened about.
“Get back to work.” Venus was about to grab the door handle, but Esme anticipated her and opened the door for her. Darla shuffled out.
Esme closed the door behind Darla, then clapped her hands together. “You were wonderful!”
Her enthusiasm startled Venus, but after a second, she gave a small smile. “Thanks.” She would have been more friendly, but her annoyance at Darla didn’t quite take the place of French Roast. She dropped her purse on the floor. “About the Web director—let me get some coffee, and I’ll look into it.”
Esme followed her to the break room. “I haven’t told anyone else about it yet except Gerry.”
“Who just told everyone—oh, man!” The coffeepot was empty. Venus resisted the urge to bang it against the counter. Deep breath. Just make more coffee. Just a few more minutes. She reached in the refrigerator for the bag of Starbucks. “The other programmers probably already know by now. I’ll talk to them about taking up the slack for the next few days. Who’s next in charge?”
“Lisa.”
Oh, no. “The girl Gerry was chewing out?”
Esme bit her lip and nodded.
Venus filled the pot with water. “I’ll give her a few minutes and then talk to her.”
“I, umm…might have a solution?”
Venus poured the water in, then switched on the coffeepot. “I’m all ears. Got a Web director up your sleeve?”
“Uh…actually, my friend Macy is a Web director, and she’s looking for a job.”
Venus whirled and stared. She remembered to close her mouth after a second. “You’re kidding me.”
“No.”
“Is she good?”
Esme smiled. “She’s very good.”
“Tell her to send her resume—”
“I have it, actually. I’ll email it to you.”
The smell of coffee rose from the pot. Venus had to stop herself from hovering over the machine to suck up the fumes. “I’ll look at it today.” Could this be the answer to her problem, so easily taken care of? “Thank you so much.”
She grinned. “Glad to be
able to ease some of the stress from today.”
Esme had been invaluable last week. She’d told Venus of problems immediately, fixed the ones that she could, efficiently did everything Venus asked her to, and never seemed annoyed when Venus was feeling peevish. “Esme, I couldn’t have asked for a better operations manager.”
It came out of her in a rush. She wasn’t used to dealing with women so well—aside from her cousins, who loved her almost because they had to.
“Thanks.” Her smile grew brighter.
“Where did you work before here?” Venus dragged her eyes away from the pot. Coffee in a few minutes, coffee in a few minutes…
“A small startup. It died after only a few months.” Esme peeked up at Venus with shining eyes. “I heard you worked for Oomvid.”
Her favorite subject. “I did.”
“You were laid off?”
“No, I quit.” And good riddance.
“You quit?” Esme’s mouth hung open, exposing her pearly bottom teeth.
“Um…yeah.”
“Why would you ever quit Oomvid?” She said it in a tone like asking someone why they’d tear up a winning lottery ticket.
Venus paused to pick her words. The gaming community was dangerously small, and even though Bananaville wasn’t a game development company, some of these programmers could switch over to the dark side one day. “I wanted the opportunity to be CTO, and I also was tired of a large company. I missed the environment of a small startup.” Hey, that actually sounded rather good.
“But…” Esme bit her lip again, making a cherry-red mark. “But it was Oomvid.”
“It was Oomvid, not Mecca.” Ooh, her tone had been a bit sharp. “I thought and prayed a lot before deciding to quit.” Did ten minutes count as praying a lot?
“Oh, well if you prayed…”
Wow, Esme was Christian? “Do you go to church?” The coffeepot burbled, signaling the end of Venus’s pain and torture. She grabbed a mug from the cabinet and poured it to the brim.
She slurped some from the edge. Bliss.
Esme’s eyes brightened. “Oh, yes. I go to—”
“Darling!”
