Alan Lennox and the Temp Job of Doom

by Brian Olsen

  “One second,” she replied, “then I’m coming in.”

  As Mark reached to take his tie from her, she looped it around his neck and pulled him down for a kiss. She broke it off, then whispered in his ear, “Come to my office on Monday.”

  “I can’t. We can’t.”

  “Yes, we can. My office, lunchtime Monday.” She released the tie and stepped back just as Muffin opened the door. Mark saw Dakota standing behind her in the hallway. Pickle turned to them. “See? All’s well, nothing to worry about. Did you make the margaritas?” She breezed past them and downstairs. Baffled, Muffin followed.

  Dakota stepped into the room. “Did you find out anything?”

  “Uh, no, sorry. We didn’t have enough time to do anything. To talk, I mean.”

  “Uh-huh,” she said. “I can see you didn’t do much talking. Your tie is off and you have sex hair.”

  Mark grinned sheepishly. “She jumped me.”

  “I’m sure it was terrifying for you. You must be so traumatized.”

  “I am, sort of. She’s kind of crazy.” He tried and failed to make it sound as if he thought that was a bad thing.

  Dakota grabbed his tie and draped it around her neck. “Come on, Man Soup. Time to go home. Let’s hope Caitlin and Alan are having a more productive night than we are.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Caitlin partying

  Caitlin sat in a fancy wine bar in Astoria, nursing her cheap Riesling and impatiently checking the time on her cell phone. Alan should have been here by now, she thought. In fact, he should have beaten her here. The G train wasn’t running, which had forced her to get to Queens by detouring through Manhattan, whereas he was only coming from the East Village. He had texted her that he was on his way ages ago, so where was he?

  She took a small sip of wine. She regretted suggesting this as a meeting place – she had hoped to go straight to the party, but Alan hadn’t wanted to arrive by himself. The bar was expensive, and she couldn’t afford a second glass. She wanted to tear into the six-pack she had brought, but thought the handsome bow-tied bartender would probably disapprove.

  She hated being poor. Her bartending job paid the bills, barely, but she hadn’t gone to school to be a bartender. Her dream was to support herself as an actor, but it had been a while since acting had made much of a contribution to her bank account. Of course, the phone call she had received earlier that afternoon could change all that, at least in the short term, but that was a whole other problem. She really needed to talk to Alan.

  She hoped this party would take her mind off her worries, but as the day had worn on she had found herself dreading it more and more. Part of it was the bizarre situation with Dakota’s job – she agreed something odd was happening, but she didn’t really believe Derek was involved in some criminal conspiracy, and she didn’t know how to bring it up with him without sounding like a lunatic. Mostly, though, she dreaded being asked what she was up to lately. Because she didn’t really have an answer.

  At least Alan would be there. If she was having a lousy time they could jet off to a cheap gay bar and drink and dance until she was happy or unconscious. Assuming he ever showed up. She was about to take out her cell phone to try texting him again when she heard her name called. She looked to the door and there was Alan, at last. Her smile vanished when she saw the short muscular man entering the bar directly behind him. He wouldn’t, she thought.

  He would.

  “Hey,” Alan said as he hugged her. “Sorry I’m late. Caitlin, this is Pete. Pete, this is Caitlin, my best friend and roommate.”

  Pete smiled broadly and gave her a quick hug. “Hi, Caitlin, awesome to meet you!”

  She found her voice. “Hi, Pete, nice to meet you too.” She turned to Alan. “The date went well, I take it?”

  “Oh, yeah. I felt bad bailing on Pete so I asked him if he wanted to join us. Sorry, I hope that’s okay.”

  “Yeah, of course! It’s fine. Of course. Derek said bring whoever.” She hoped she sounded more convincing to them than she did to herself.

  “It’s my fault it took us so long to get here,” Pete said. “I wanted to stop for a bottle of wine.” He held up a paper bag. “Sorry.”

  “That’s okay. I’ve been drinking, everything’s good.”

  Alan lowered his voice so the bartender wouldn’t hear them. “Pete’s up to speed on all the lunacy at Dakota’s job,” he said to her.

  “You talked about that on your date?”

  “It’s pretty weird, I have to admit,” Pete said, smiling. “I think it’s probably all just a coincidence, but it’s definitely bizarre.”

  “Definitely,” Caitlin said. He hadn’t stopped smiling since he came in, she noticed.

  “Pete’s sort of another coincidence himself,” Alan said, and told her about the lawsuit.

  Caitlin brushed an errant blonde hair from her face while she processed what Alan had said. “So you’re suing Amalgamawatchit, you go to Mark’s gym, and you’re on a date with Alan? I think that counts as more than one coincidence.”

  She briefly considered telling them about her phone call, but this new information made her unsure as to whether she could entirely trust Alan’s date. She decided to wait until she could get her roommate alone. “I need something harder than wine.” She shot down the last of her Riesling. “Shall we?”

  They headed out of the bar, down the block and around the corner. Pete and Alan lagged behind, chatting – Alan was explaining the intricacies of that game he and Dakota played – and Caitlin felt a little left out. She knew the address, though, and they didn’t, so it made sense for her to be in the lead.

  “Here we are!” she called out. The building was a duplex, and Derek was on the first floor. She could hear music pumping as she pressed the buzzer. After a moment she heard a buzz in response, and pushed the door open. The interior door was ajar, and as they stepped into the apartment she saw Derek hurrying towards her.

  “Caitlin! Hey!” he called out. “You made it! Yay!”

  Caitlin got a face full of hair as Derek threw his arms around her. Through the shaggy bleached curtain she could see the party in full swing behind him. The living room was crowded with revelers, about half of whom she recognized from various shows she had done. She could hear her friend and doppelganger Tamsin talking loudly from the kitchen, just out of sight.

  Derek broke away. “Alan Lennox!” he said. “Oh my god, it’s been forever, how are you?”

  “I’m good,” Alan replied. “Good to see you, Derek. This is Pete.”

  “Hey, Derek!” Pete said, giving his hand a vigorous shake. “Great place! This party looks awesome!”

  “Uh, okay,” Derek replied, nonplussed by Pete’s enthusiasm. “Thanks for coming. Come on in, let me show you around Chez Wallace.”

  They followed him as he dashed from room to room, quickly pointing out the features of the small apartment. “Living room – slash – dining room, kitchen – drop booze here, backyard – smokers outside please, bathroom – presently occupied, my bedroom – perhaps one lucky winner will get a closer look at this later, roommate’s bedroom – she’s away so stay out, and here we are back in the living room. There’s food, there’s drink, there’s music, make yourself at home!”

  Without missing a beat, Derek swiveled, leaped around the sofa and joined a conversation already in progress. Caitlin heard something about a reality show she didn’t watch.

  “Who wants a drink?” Alan asked.

  “Oh, yeah! I’ll have some of our wine!” Pete replied.

  “Wait!” Caitlin said. “Let’s figure out a game plan before we get drunk!”

  Pete smiled sheepishly. “There’s a possibility it’s too late for that.”

  “We did a shot with a drag queen,” Alan added. “Possibly two.”

  “And we had been drinking with dinner,” Pete picked up. “And I’m a lightweight.”

  “I’m not, but you know. Shots.” Alan’s smile echoed Pete’s.

&
nbsp; “Are you kidding me?” Caitlin asked. “Well, let’s figure out what we’re doing before you get any drunker. You know Dakota will ask us, she’ll flip if we don’t have something to tell her.”

  “I have an idea!” Pete said. He turned around and hollered, “Derek! Excuse me, Derek?”

  Derek swiveled around. He turned back to the people he had been talking to and apologized, “Just a moment, a tiny muscular gentleman is bellowing for me.” He stepped on the sofa and up and over its back, landing softly next to them without spilling a drop of the martini he had somehow picked up in the last few seconds. “What can I do for you, short, dark and handsome?”

  “Do you play a game called Work It?” he asked.

  Caitlin glared at Alan, who gave her a what-are-you-gonna-do shrug.

  “I love Work It!” Derek shrieked. “Oh my god, were you talking about Work It? I’m so glad you called me over! Do you all play? You have to friend me!”

  “Is your screen name DJWallToWall?” Pete continued.

  “Yes! How did you know that? That is crazy! Alan, your boyfriend is crazy! Are you stalking me? It’s okay, I won’t tell Alan.”

  Caitlin wasn’t sure how she had imagined this night proceeding, but somehow she had thought the process of finding out the truth behind Derek’s connection to the weirdness surrounding them would be somewhat subtler. She hadn’t thought through the details, but she had been half-imagining some covert information gathering scenario, like something out of a James Bond film. She thought maybe it would involve Alan seducing Derek while she broke into his computer. Pete’s way was probably a lot easier, so she abandoned the idea of any kind of master plan and joined in.

  “You work for Dakota Bell, right?” she asked Derek.

  His tone turned sharper, but his enthusiasm remained unchecked. “Oh my god, do you know her? She is the worst. She is a bitch with a capital C.”

  “She’s our roommate,” Alan said.

  Derek sucked in air through his teeth. “I am so sorry. Not for what I said. I’m sorry she’s your roommate. No T no shade, maybe she reads to the elderly and runs marathons for kitten cancer on her days off, but at work she’s just awful.”

  Alan’s eyes widened. He started to protest, but Caitlin cut him off before he could speak. She wanted to jump to Dakota’s defense as well, but starting a fight with Derek wouldn’t get them anywhere. Dakota would understand.

  “She can be intense,” she said. “I get it.”

  Alan looked at her, surprised, but didn’t say anything.

  “Marisol!” Derek suddenly shouted into the kitchen. “Come in here!”

  A plain, mousy-haired woman of about their age wandered in, a red Solo cup in her hand. Caitlin had seen her when they had toured the kitchen, standing silently in an otherwise boisterous conversation circle. She looked relieved to be called away from it.

  Derek quickly introduced them all, then said to Marisol, “These two are Dakota’s roommates!” He turned back to Caitlin. “Marisol hates Dakota way more than I do!”

  In fact, at the mention of Dakota’s name, Marisol’s face took on the expression of someone who had just noticed a short, curly hair floating in their soup. “Oh!” she said, “she’s...I shouldn’t say.”

  “No, go ahead!” Derek egged her on. “They can’t stand her either!”

  “She’s just...she’s terrible. Rude. Pushy. I had to...I shouldn’t say.”

  “Go on!” Derek urged.

  “I had to call...I shouldn’t say.”

  “For fuck’s sake, just say it,” Caitlin said.

  Marisol blinked. “I had to call security on her the other day. She was holding my boss hostage, I think. It was scary.”

  “You work for her boss?” Caitlin asked.

  “Richard Mullins. He’s the whole department’s boss, but I’m his administrative assistant.” Marisol’s back straightened with pride as she said this. “He doesn’t like her much either. She’s just terrible.” There was a pause. She seemed to have exhausted her thoughts on the subject. “Terrible.”

  Pete turned to Derek and jumped in with the question Caitlin had been working up to. “So why do you work for her in the game if you hate working for her in real life?”

  “In the game?” He looked confused for a moment, then horrified. “Oh my god. I work for DakotaCo! I thought it was like North Dakota or something!” He gasped. “And the CEO is BellTower! I never put that together before, I can never remember her last name! That is amaze-balls. She’s a much better boss online than in real life.”

  “Are you going to keep working for her? In the game?” Marisol asked.

  It seemed to Caitlin like Marisol had asked this question with an odd intensity, her anxious demeanor temporarily wiped away, but Derek didn’t notice.

  “Probably. Yeah. Somebody offered me game money to jump ship, but I stayed with her. Her reward package is worth more in the long run. Oh my god, I can’t believe I just said something nice about her!”

  Marisol looked back into her cup. Caitlin thought she almost looked disappointed.

  Before Caitlin could ask her what was wrong, Alan leaned over and whispered, “Are we just asking him everything flat out? Is that the big plan?”

  “Just ask him,” she answered out loud.

  “Okay. Are you going on vacation next week or something?”

  “No,” Derek replied. “Why?”

  “I got called in for a temp job in your department starting Monday, reporting to Dakota, but she didn’t request me.”

  “Huh,” Derek said. “That’s weird. I don’t know what you’d be doing. I’m not going on vacation. In fact, I just got hired on permanently, thank you, thank you. I’m sort of meh about working there, truthfully, but I’ll take the insurance until my Broadway dreams come true. I changed the theme of the party to Hooray for Benefits, which I think works much better than the previous theme, Hooray for High-Fructose Corn Syrup.”

  “Is that what I’m drinking?” Marisol asked quietly.

  “It’s all natural,” Derek replied. “Do you know anything about a temp?”

  “No,” she answered. “Must be a mistake. I see all the temp requests for Marketing, and there aren’t any new ones. It’s probably that Dakota’s fault.”

  “Probably,” Derek agreed. “She’s awful.”

  “Terrible.”

  “Got it!” Caitlin said brightly. “Our roommate is human garbage. Noted. Congrats on the job, Derek.”

  He was about to thank her when Marisol suddenly blurted out, “Derek is a tangible asset.”

  “Thanks, Mar,” he said. “I think.”

  “That came out wrong,” she replied, looking confused. “I meant to say we like having you there. I like having you there. You make AmSyn feel even more like a family for me.”

  “Ohhhh!” he exclaimed. “I’m gonna cry! You’re the best! Isn’t she the best?”

  Caitlin half-listened as Derek went on to tell them about meeting Marisol during his first week at AmSyn, and how they had become fast friends. It seemed like an odd match-up to her – Derek was over-the-top while Marisol was as dull as dry wheat toast – but she supposed Derek might enjoy hanging out with someone who could never possibly divert the spotlight away from him.

  As Caitlin nodded politely, she saw Alan whisper something to Pete, whose perpetual smile got slightly larger, and the two discretely drifted away. Derek didn’t notice, having moved on to talking about some show he was in.

  Caitlin supposed this meant their investigation had reached its conclusion. She couldn’t think of anything else relevant to AmSyn to ask Derek – Dakota would probably have had greater success, she thought, but she wasn’t Dakota. When faced with actually confronting someone, all those coincidences just seemed flimsy. If something sinister was happening, it seemed unlikely that Derek was a part of it.

  At some point during Derek’s monologue, Tamsin left the kitchen and joined their circle. The unfamiliar people and topic were too much for Marisol, who st
ayed standing with them but disappeared further into her cup.

  When Derek paused for a breath, Tamsin took the opportunity to jump in. “I just got cast in something.”

  Caitlin didn’t have to ask, but did anyway. “The Raisin in the Sun thing?”

  Tamsin told them she’d be playing Beneatha in the show, the part she and Caitlin had both auditioned for. She used all the standard dismissals to try and keep Caitlin from feeling too bad about losing out – the show was ridiculous, the money was next to nothing, the director didn’t know what he was doing – but Caitlin shushed her and offered her congratulations. They had had this conversation many times before, although it had been a long time since Caitlin had been the one in a position to humblebrag.

  Tamsin knew better than to ask the question Caitlin had been dreading, but Derek wasn’t so sensitive. “So, what are you working on, Caitlin?” he asked.

  “Well, nothing yet, but I did just book something.” She paused. What the hell, she thought. “Remember that sketchy audition I had on Wednesday?” she asked Tamsin.

  “You went? What was it?”

  “Ooh, sketchy audition!” Derek said. “Were you lured onto the casting couch, Caitlin Ross?”

  “Not quite that sketchy. I don’t know what the job is, but we can have lunch when I’m done. It’s in your building.”

  Marisol perked up at this, and she and Derek exchanged a glance. “My building?” he said. “You have a gig at Amalgamated Synergy?”

  She told them all about the phone call she had received that afternoon. She had been told that she had booked the job, and asked to please report to the basement of the AmSyn building on Lexington between Thirty-ninth and Fortieth Streets at noon on Monday. She had asked what she was going to be doing, but the person making the call had no information. Caitlin would have been wary even without all of the other strangeness going on, but when the man on the phone had told her the pay rate for one day, she had agreed. It was more than she could make in a week at the bar. She hadn’t told her roommates about it – she was afraid they would either try and talk her out of it, or pressure her to ask awkward questions and potentially blow the gig.