“Right. Yeah, yes I do. Can you, um, point me in a direction? Preferably the correct one?” I laughed at how stupid I sounded.
He seemed to forget his surroundings for a second as he bent down to peer in the car. Through the orange haze, I could make out jet black hair peeping from under his cowboy hat, and those bottomless eyes looking at me with humor. My head got a bit light.
“Can’t take a city girl away from the buildings or you lose your way, huh?”
“Actually, yes. Exactly.” I really did rarely get lost in the city. Out here, though, with all this space and no ocean, it was a whole different world.
A browner one, for a start.
“Okay, you are pointed East... do you want to write this down?”
I realized I had been staring up at him, trying to get a glance at his eyes again. I jumped into action, grabbing writing tools and listening for instructions. As he gave them, I let half my mind wander, just listening to his voice, feeling the cool breeze of the night float by, which was a relief in the humidity. I noticed the color of the sun splashing across the sky as it set, hearing flies buzzing past the cows, and the smell of poop. Just taking it all in with him in it.
On second thought, I could have done without the poop smell.
He finished up and I put away the pen and paper. The cows had all moved on down the road and into the pasture.
“Oh,” I said too loudly. Toning it down quickly, I continued in a more subdued voice, “I wanted to give you money for the groceries.”
I certainly did not sound like I had a high-dollar education.
He chuckled. “‘Nite miss. See ya again sometime.”
He tipped his hat the way they do in westerns and his horse started moving off the road.
Oh...okay.
Something about him made me giddy. I hadn’t felt this way since I was ten years old and Timmy McNewland kissed me by the monkey bars. That time, giddy quickly turned to anger when he made a face and said, “ech!” Stupid little boys.
Chapter Four
“You Jessica?” Asked a slightly high-pitched voice out of a stocky man in his late forties.
My new boss walked through the spacious lobby of the office building, ignoring the receptionist bobbing her head in answer to his question.
“Yes.” I stood up and surpassed his height by about three inches. I was wearing heals but still, his parents didn’t do him any favors. Hopefully he was at least smart or funny.
“Come this way.” He had a really thick, slow drawl. From what I had heard so far, it didn’t sound Texan, but I was no expert.
I flashed a smile at the receptionist who gave me a thumbs up, then rolled her eyes at Mr. Nash, my new boss. Not a good sign. Still, giving him the benefit of the doubt, we passed into the building through a big archway with crown molding. The inside was a deep tan, almost honey color. There were plants and wall decor that made this place look like a client’s reception room in a lawyer’s office rather than a low-level office floor.
What was it with me? I didn’t have much--next to nothing, really--but everyone and everything around me seemed to have money and an air of elegance or stateliness. I had a feeling I was being set up by the cosmos for a big joke. A joke I wouldn’t find amusing.
“This here’s yer desk.” Mr. Nash gave the cube an impatient sweep of his arm.
It was bigger than average, like those around me, dark wood, which was actually hard plastic, with deep gray cube walls. It had a phone from this decade, a MAC laptop (nice!), a ten key, and shelving to hold personal as well as professional items.
There were also a ton of drawers.
“Right then. I’ll just take ya on to the break room.”
He led me through a maze of deep gray walls, expensive paintings and potted plants to a room with a large wood table, three microwaves, water cooler, two refrigerators, and all the other stuff an office break-room usually has.
Good first stop, I needed coffee.
“C’mon,” He squawked, heading away.
Geez. Give a gal a second.
We walked down a corridor to the restrooms.
“The water closet for ladies is here.” He shoved a tubby finger at the door with “Ladies Room” written on it. I could have figured that one out, but said nothing.
“Right. You think ya got it?”
“Yup, got it. Thanks!” I smiled jubilantly.
“Hphm. Well, Jenny’s gonna be trainin’ you here shortly. I expect that’s all I need to show ya. Can ya find yer way back?”
“I think I can handle it, yes. Thank you.”
He looked at me like I had an eye falling out of my head, and then turned his pot belly around and walked away.
Well…alright then.
I made my way back to the kitchen for caffeinated fuel.
As I was pouring coffee into my cup, someone walked in and stood behind me. I finished up by snagging a couple packets of sugar, which were right next to the coffee machine. No powered creamer. You would think a company this nice would have some freaking powered creamer.
“You new?”
I glanced over my shoulder. He was older than me, probably in his forties, with sandy blond hair and leathery skin.
“Yeah,” I responded with a half grin.
“Thought so. Everyone looks for the creamer the first time around.” He gave a good-natured laugh. “It’s in the fridge.”
“The fridge?”
“Yeah. It’s that big, white block that stays cold, even in summer.” He nodded his head toward the far wall.
“Oohh, that’s what they call it!” I laughed as I made my way, opened it up and real creamer! Like, the kind that needs to be kept cold so it doesn’t spoil. So much better than the powdered crap.
“Yeah, this company takes care of us," he continued. "You work hard, hit your goals and all the rest, and they keep you happy. And it seems to work for them, because even when the economy takes a downturn this company still makes money. Never cheat the farmers, either. They are straight up. Once someone is hired, they don’t quit if they can help it, or do everything they can not to get fired. There are a few idiots, but mostly people stay here for a long time.”
Was I dreaming? I landed a good job right after college. Maybe it had something to do with being over-qualified and willing to go to the bible belt from a liberal oasis. Who cares? Hopefully I could work my way up here.
“Where you from?” he asked as he filled his cup.
“L.A.”
“Oh whoa, a California girl, eh? Hot dang. Why would you want to leave California? Everyone here wants to get out to Cali--isn’t that what you call it? Cali?”
Bit of a chatter, this one.
“Once upon a time that was the ‘in’ name, yeah. A little passé now.” I threw him my winning smile to tell him I was being an ass on purpose.
He responded with a slack face. Maybe my ‘winning’ smile was a California thing. It didn’t seem to work in Texas. Maybe a toothy grin was a better way to go.
I had to work on it.
He blinked, a dreamy smile creeping up his face. Then he started laughing. I edged from the room.
“Oh right, passé!” he exclaimed. “Ha ha. Yeah, I am just a country kid, what do I know about the land of movie stars? Ha ha. Well, I am from Austin. The city, you know. But we are still country kids at heart!”
“Anyway,” I said, “I should get back. I have to get settled then start training.”
“Oh sure, yeah. What are you doing, anyway?”
“Some sort of Accounting. Entry level, but I just finished college so I took what I could get!”
“Oh yeah. Got to! Fer sure, right? Fer sure, doood! California! Surfer girls! Ha ha. Anyway, see ya ‘round alright? Ha ha ha ha!” He was shaking his head as I moved away.
What did they put in the coffee here?
Back at my computer, I setup my email with the post-it noting my sign-on, then looked around. I could hear some phone conversations and see a tall, tree-like plant in front of a robust woman across the cube from me. She was putting something away at the back of her cube; otherwise I would only see her in profile.
She had some crazy large hair. It was a teased, dyed blond mass on the top of her head, held there with lots of Aqua-net. Her outdated pant-suit squeezed overly large br**sts until they were trying to bust out the top. It wasn’t doing wonders for her waist, either. She looked like a homemade sausage, all lumpy in weird places.
Unfortunately, it was at the time I noticed her boobs that she noticed me looking at them. Perfect timing, as always.
“You the new girl?” she asked with attitude and a thick accent.
“Yes. I’m Jessica. I just finished setting up--”
“You don’t gotta bother explaining what it is you ain’t doin’.” she interrupted. “Like workin’. Who is supposed to be showin’ you what’s what?”
“Um, Jenny? I’m not sure. I was just told this was my cube.”
“Well, if I wauz you, I would find myself someone to show me my job, and stop gawkin’ like you wauz as nervous as a ling tailed cat in a room fulla rockin’ chairs!”
She turned around in a huff, slammed the drawer that was opened, got into her suddenly burdened chair, and turned toward her computer. She was now mostly out of sight behind the fake, leafy plant.
Je-sus!
Sorry to take your name in vein, Lord, because I am sure you hear me louder here than in L.A., but seriously! What. A. Bitch!
I was still staring in shocked silence when a head popped into view. It was a girl about my age, maybe a little younger, with long, straight brown hair, freckles, and large, almond shaped eyes. Her prettiness was diminished slightly by too much foundation make-up.
“Hi!” she said in a high, almost child-like voice. It wasn’t unpleasant, and I could think of a handful of girls in L.A. that would love that voice attached to their “dumb-blond” image. This girl wasn’t going for that look, thank God, and it made her cuter.
“Hello,” I replied, careful not to say too much in case she turned into a clone of my cube neighbor.
Speaking of my delightful cube neighbor, her face peeped at us through the plant. I quickly focused more intently on this new girl so as not to get a repeat of the tongue lashing.
“I am going to train you. Not fully, of course, ‘cause you are slightly senior in your duties to mine—because you are a college grad. Yay! Congrats!”
“Oh. Thanks. This is my first adult job.” My face got hot.
“Yeah, it’s my first job, too. Real job I mean, like you. I did some Dairy Queen cashier stuff, and was a bank teller before this, which got me this job. But overall this is my first well-paying job. I haven’t gone to college, though. I don’t really want to, either. I’m not that good at school, so I figure I’ll just work my way up in the work world. It takes longer that way ‘cause you have to start lower, but it sure beats school! Well, you probably don’t agree because you went to school and made it through, but that is my outlook anyway.” She had a big smile and giggled a little.
So, a talker then. That was as well because generally I made a better listener. She was a bit ditzy, too, but not in a bad way. Overall, I liked her. I hoped we got along so I had a friend.
Something occurred to me. “You don’t have an accent.”
“Oh well, no. I was city born in Houston. Lived in the city all my life, and there are lots of people without accents there. Grow up with Hollywood movies and TV and all that, it’s easy to escape the southern drawl! I slip into it sometimes. Mostly when I drink.” She lowered her voice at the last sentence and winked at me.
Mental note: Drinking might not be as accepted here as in L.A. Must be careful not to make an ass of myself right off.
Easier said than done.
“Anyway,” she went on, “I am Candace.”
Apparently Mr. Nash wasn’t great with names…
“Jessica. Or Jess if you want.”
“Oh! I thought you were Jenny. Mr. Nash must have got it wrong!” She frowned.
Or maybe he called everyone Jenny?
“My sister is named Jessica! We call her Jess, though, so if you don’t mind I might just call you Jessica so you are cemented as a different person in my mind.” She giggled in a good natured way.
“Will you two girls shut up?!” my neighbor roared.
Candace rolled her eyes and turned toward the angry hornet. “Juniper, why can’t you just be nice for once? Or at least quiet? I’m going to be training Jessica so I’ll be over here pretty often.”
“You trainin’? That’s gonna go over like a fart in an elevator!”
“Real nice, Juniper." Candace replied in sarcastic tones. "Do I have to get Mr. Nash involved again?”
I heard a “Hmph!” and rustling paper. Apparently Mr. Nash was the winning threat.
Candace turned back to me with a sober look as she shook her head. “Anyway, let’s get you started before someone is tempted to eavesdrop.”
Paper shuffled with vigor across the way.
“John Paul will be here soon to set up your email.”
“Oh, I already did that. Someone set up my user ID and I got it started on the computer. Really nice computers by the way!”
“Oh yeah, they really take care of the employees here. They believe that a happy employee is a long lasting employee, which has something to do with staying longer and helping the business, or something.”
“Employee retention. Apparently it’s cheaper to keep the current employees than train new ones. And it’s great for knowledge retention and work flow, which helps the business prosper. So they teach, anyway.”
Candace blinked a couple times. “See, that is why you got the better job. College.” She nodded like the tiny bit I actually picked up in five years was a fountain of knowledge. This is what Jane must always feel like.