Covert Interview

by Missy Marciassa

  Even the ice cream quest was a bust, however. Her favorite flavor, cookie dough ice cream, was out. She was tempted to make due with birthday cake flavor but decided to just pick up something from the grocery store at the deli.

  While at the grocery store, Elle almost bought herself a pint of cookie dough ice cream in addition to the sandwich from the deli. Then she got an idea. Really, she wanted the cookie dough. Screw the ice cream. She went over to the baking aisle and got a package of cookie mix. She was leaving town tomorrow, so it wasn’t even like she’d have time to eat the whole thing. She just felt like pampering herself a little.

  Back at her apartment, Elle realized just how sparsely furnished her kitchen was. She didn’t even have a mixing bowl, much less larger spoons or spatulas for mixing. Using a salad bowl that came with her dish set and a regular spoon from her silverware, she mixed up the dough. But why cook it? As a kid, her favorite part of making cookies had always been licking the bowl. She was an adult: there was no one to stop her. So Elle ended up sprawled out on her futon, in shorts and a t-shirt, eating raw cookie dough.

  Her tablet pinged when she was about halfway through her bowl of raw cookie dough. On one hand, she wanted to talk to her friends. On the other, she didn’t feel like recounting Preston’s dumping again. Well, she’d have to tell them eventually. She propped the tablet up and turned on the webcam, answering their call.

  Elle gave a genuine smile for the first time that day, but her friends’ eyes were too perceptive.

  “What happened?” Marni demanded.

  “Have you been…” Tina leaned closer to the camera, making her face look like it was swelling. “Crying?”

  Elle gathered another generous heaping of cookie dough and spooned it into her mouth, taking her time chewing it. She didn’t even feel like saying the words but waiting wasn’t going to help anything.

  “Aren’t you guys back in the States yet?” she asked. It was a reasonable question, since they had been talking about flight plans the last time they talked. She actually knew they were: she could see they were in two different rooms. This was a three-way call.

  “We got back on Saturday,” Tina said.

  “The jet lag is almost over,” Marni added.

  Elle started chewing on another sizable ball of cookie dough. It beat having to talk.

  “What are you eating?” Marni asked, squinting at the screen, as if trying to see better.

  “Cookie dough.” Elle tried to sound as nonchalant as she could, even with her mouth full. It was easier to answer that question than the bigger one.

  “Cookie dough?” Tina repeated. She and Marni seemed to exchange glances, although it was hard to tell with three different screens. “Is your oven broken?”

  “I like the raw dough better.” Oh well, there was no use delaying any further. She drew in a deep breath. “Preston and I are done.”

  “WHAT?”

  “What happened?”

  Both Tina and Marni started talking at the same time. Elle blinked a couple of times, determined to keep her eyes clear. She knew they would want every last detail, and while she didn’t feel like going into all of that, she decided to share the highlights. “He said I ‘don’t know the score’ about him having to… travel for work a lot.” She nearly slipped and said “being a spy.” That would have been really bad. “So he broke up with me.”

  “How much have you seen him since graduation?” Marni asked.

  “Last weekend was the first time,” Elle admitted.

  “That’s a long time,” Tina said.

  Elle couldn’t stop a couple of tears from rolling down her cheeks. Dammit.

  Tina bit her lip. “I’m sorry. I- I know you cared about him.”

  Marni clapped her hands. “Well, I’ll just have to come by Norfolk before going to Charlottesville, and we’ll pick up some hot sailors.”

  Hot sailors. Preston had been a sailor: he’d been in the Navy before joining the agency. Maybe she should take sailors off the menu. “Well, at least we can hang out,” Elle said. She’d leave it at that. It would be great to have her friend around.

  ***

  Elle was about to go cross-eyed that evening as she reviewed the data from Mason. She looked at what the program covered and what was missed. She looked at all the information connected to what was missed and developed new models. The modified models worked but caught a lot of non-terrorist transactions as well. What was she missing?

  Her cell phone rang at nine am sharp the next morning. Elle answered as she let herself in at the circulation desks and strode to the back her office.

  “I thought I said check in at nine am.” It was Mason. No preamble.

  “It is nine am.” She had been going to call him as soon as she got into her office, which might have taken her another thirty seconds if that. Elle shut the door once she reached her office.

  “We’ll discuss time management late. Update me on your progress.”

  Elle drank coffee every day, but this morning it was making her stomach upset. Well, it could be the coffee. Or the cookie dough. Or coming to the realization that her work was sub-standard. “I’m still working on modifying the model. Right now, the accuracy is not at an acceptable level.”

  “Not at an acceptable level.”

  “Yes, I-”

  “What about the algorithm?” He talked right over her.

  “The algorithm is based on the model,” she explained, feeling her stomach twist. “Until I can get the model to an improved level of accuracy, I can’t make adjustments to the algorithm.”

  There was a long silence. Elle searched the bottom of her purse for antacids. Sometimes she had them lying around.

  “We need an improved model,” he finally said.

  Tell her about it. This was what she did well. Yet she had never had to modify a model this fast. “I can fix this; I just need more time.” After more silence, she said, “It’s an improvement that I’ve identified additional variables.”

  “Improvements are when we catch more terrorist transactions.”

  Elle actually felt herself start to sweat. Great. Like it wasn’t hot enough outside already. “My modified model will catch more…” She stopped herself before saying the word “terrorist” out loud, “transactions. It’s just that it will also catch legitimate ones, too, which I’m guessing you don’t want.”

  “Your guess is correct.”

  Now she was working to keep the annoyance out of her voice. “I’ve modified many models but not within this time frame.”

  “Ms. Paquet.” Elle could practically see him sitting up straighter as he spoke. “Remember who you work for: you’re not in the ivory tower of academia anymore. We operate in the real world; we don’t have the luxury of time. Here in the real world, terrorist transactions that we cannot stop are occurring. Americans’ lives are being put at risk. Because your model is ineffective.”

  What the hell did he want her to do, wave a magic wand? “I’m doing my best.” She could hear the tightness in her voice.

  “We’re not interested in your best. We want something that works.”

  She would probably do better if he wasn’t breathing down her neck like a damn dragon. After a few minutes of silence, he said, “I’ll be awaiting your report at five pm tonight. And I do mean five pm.”

  Elle couldn’t believe the injustice of this. She hadn’t even been late calling him. “Will do.”

  He disconnected the call.

  Elle slumped into her chair, letting her tote slide off her shoulder to the floor. Talk about crazy expectations.

  ***

  Elle made no progress on her models for the CIA. While running out to pick something up for lunch- and get some fresh air, even if it was hot and humid- she decided to switch her attention to Janet’s project for a while. Sometimes, working on something else gave her an idea for other projects.

  Unfortunately, that strategy didn’t yield any better results. At two minutes to five, she went ahead and ca
lled Mason.

  “Mason Charleston.”

  “Hi- it’s Elle. Elle Paquet.”

  Silence. Elle figured she was supposed to continue talking. “I’m still working on modifying the model.”

  “No progress since this morning?”

  “No improvement with the accuracy,” she admitted.

  More silence. “It may feel like you’ve been here a while, but let me remind you, you are still within your probationary period.”

  Elle gritted her teeth. She’d like to see him find an analyst who could do better. She almost said so but knew that was probably impolitic. “I remember.

  “Report in at nine am tomorrow. Sharp.” Mason hung up.

  So she was supposed to work all night. Still not in the mood for takeout, no time to go out to dinner (it no longer felt weird to eat out alone), she figured she would pick up a sandwich from the grocery store deli on her way home. The glamorous life of a single adult.

  A few hours later, Elle was surprised she wasn’t bald from tearing her hair out. She rubbed her forehead. She was determined to have something useful to tell Mason by tomorrow morning at nine am sharp. She had a feeling her “association with the agency” depended on it.

  ***

  The next morning, she went ahead and called Mason. She had never had to turn in a model she wasn’t happy with, but it was in the best shape she could get it in within this ridiculous timeframe.

  “My modifications will work within acceptable parameters,” she said as soon as he answered. He cut to the chase; she might as well do so herself.

  “Acceptable parameters?” Mason was right on the same page.

  “It should catch more transactions, but you do need to make sure they are the ones you’re looking for, not legitimate ones.”

  “I told you we can’t be caught stopping legitimate transactions.”

  Elle took a deep. “Within this time frame, it’s the best I can do.” If they wanted to find someone else who could do better, then she couldn’t do anything about that. “Without more data to further test the model, it’s as refined as I can make it.”

  There was a long pause. “Very well,” Mason finally said. “I’ll send a courier for it.”

  She tried not to gulp. “It’ll be ready.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Elle dragged herself home with a sandwich again. The last thing she needed to do was make herself sick by not eating or compromise her ability to concentrate from low blood sugar.

  “Finally!” She jumped as she was engulfed by strong arms that lifted her up slightly. “How late do you work?”

  Elle pulled back, blinking. Marni was grinning at her. She was actually sitting outside her apartment door. Was she seeing things?

  Marni inspected Elle more thoroughly, her hands still resting on Elle’s shoulders as she looked her up and down. “You look like hell.”

  Elle wanted to laugh and cry. “Good to see you, too,” she managed. Her voice cracked, but she didn’t care.

  Marni hugged her again. “Well, are you going to invite me in?”

  With a laugh, Elle led her friend inside. Marni swept through the apartment like a tornado, critiquing her choices. It was like life breathed through the apartment. Outside of Preston, Elle realized, Marni was the only other person who had been there. Besides herself, of course.

  “So what’s for dinner?” Marni asked. She looked at the bag from the sandwich shop. “That’s it?”

  Elle shook her head. She could use a break. “Let’s go out to eat.”

  Marni kept up a steady stream of chatter. Elle enjoyed it, grateful none of it was about Preston.

  “I was looking up things to do,” Marni told her over dinner. “Did you know there’s a Speed Dating event this Thursday night?”

  “Speed dating?” Elle felt like it was far too soon to be speed dating, or well, any kind of dating. And when she did start dating, she didn’t see herself speed dating.

  “It’s a great way to meet a lot of people,” Marni persisted, “and it’s efficient. You always like plans like this: it optimizes your chances of success.”

  Elle stared at her friend. “You used the word ‘optimizes.’”

  Marni nodded as she continued talking. “I took a peek at your closet when I was looking in your bedroom-”

  Elle couldn’t hide a wry smile. Of course she had.

  “- and I noticed all of your clothes are either casual or business wear.”

  That was true. Elle had been focused on buying business casual clothes to wear to the office. That was where she spent her time; she hadn’t gone out anywhere else, so there was no need for other types of outfits.

  “We need to get you some clothes for socializing,” Marni said. “Every woman needs a little black dress-” Elle rolled her eyes as her friend spoke, but Marni was undeterred, “- a little black skirt, and some tops for wearing out. You should have plenty of money saved by now-” Elle figured the amount of money she had spent on lingerie for Preston’s visit would be a secret she took to her grave “- so tomorrow we’re going shopping.”

  Elle’s mouth opened and shut for a moment. Tornado Marni was in full effect. “I- I have to work tomorrow,” she said.

  Marni took a bite of her food. “We’ll go after work.”

  After a moment, Elle finally shook her head and smiled. “It’s great to have you around.”

  Marni grinned. “I know.”

  Although she hadn’t felt all that hungry, she was surprised to see she cleaned her plate by the end of their meal. Marni’s talk had distracted her, and she had just eaten.

  ***

  Marni dragged Elle out to go clothes shopping in preparation for the speed dating event. She got her into a black miniskirt with an animal print off-the-shoulder top.

  “This is so not me,” Elle said, looking at herself in the outfit in the three-way mirror.

  “It so is,” Marni disagreed. “We’re releasing the tigress within.” She snapped a picture with her cell.

  “Hey, we don’t need pictorial evidence!”

  “We’re getting Tina’s opinion.” After a moment, her phone pinged and she showed Elle. “Tina approves.”

  In addition to the skirt and top, Elle bought platform heels. “I’m going to break my ankle in these,” she told Marni as she wobbled around in them when trying them on. She felt like a baby just learning how to walk.

  Even the sales lady looked a little worried, but Marni simply said, “We’ll practice.”

  Finally, she got a black clutch after Marni told her, “The tote isn’t going to cut it for an evening out.”

  Elle assumed there was nothing else they could do but Marni insisted on stopping by the make-up counter for an application lesson.

  “This stuff’s a lot more expensive than what you can get at the drug store,” she grumbled.

  “Worth every penny,” Marni assured her.

  Back at the library, Elle told Betsy about her shopping spree. “You have to go to my hairdresser,” Betsy insisted. “She’ll do a great job with your hair, and it’s slow during the week. I bet she can see you tonight or tomorrow.”

  Elle guessed that was a gentle way of telling her she had to do something with her hair. She had been wearing it pulled back. With the salty sea air and humidity, her hair turned into a frizz ball if she wore it down.

  “There are these things called keratin treatments,” Betsy said. “They will change your life. Cross my heart!”

  Elle laughed. Life changing hair treatments?

  “They’re not cheap,” Betsy said, “but they’re worth every single penny.”

  Betsy’s hair was long and sleek, even if she wore it in a French braid a lot. “I guess I have to check it out if it’s life-changing.” What did she have to lose?

  Betsy got to work, calling up Lily and getting Elle an appointment for that evening. Although Lily wore her bright red hair in a mass of curls, she seemed to understand what Elle meant when she said she wanted her hair to be “simpl
e” but “elegant.” Elle left with her hair straighter and sleeker than she had ever seen it, along with special shampoos and hair products to avoid washing out the keratin.

  “Ooh la la!” Marni exclaimed when Elle got home that evening. “Now we’re talking.”

  Elle had to admit, she loved her hair sleek and shiny like this. It was wavy enough where she didn’t realize just how long it was once it was bone straight.

  Marni’s eagle eye told Elle her friend wasn’t quite satisfied. “What is it now?” she asked. After shopping and her hair, what else could they do?

  Marni heaved a sigh, ever the drama queen. “You know what they say about men and glasses,” she said gently.

  Elle spent her lunch hour the next day getting a consultation for laser surgery to correct her eyes. Marni asked most of the questions. “So she can come in here, get it, and be on her way, right?”

  “That’s right,” the doctor said.

  “When is your earliest appointment?” Marni asked. All Elle could do was laugh. She had planned to get laser surgery; she just hadn’t gotten around to it.

  “What?” Marni asked, innocence personified. “I have to get you straightened out before I start at Virginia.”

  Turned out their next appointment was that evening.

  After they got home, Marni declared, “Well, we’re all ready. Speed dating is tomorrow.”

  Elle nodded. She wasn’t exactly jumping up and down at the prospect, but it could be different. An experience.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Elle forced herself to take a deep breath as Marni parked outside of the café for the speed dating. This had seemed so simple, or at least, as simple as any of Marni’s ideas were. Now that it was about to happen, she was a mess. What if no one wanted to sit at her table? What if no one wanted to give her his business card? Or what if no one wanted hers? What if she found her business cards thrown away in the trash at the end of the evening by guys who were just too polite to decline them? She was going to give herself a stroke before she even got in there!