Gagged(10)

Someone emerges. Someone I recognize.

I fish the phone from my pocket to double check the time, but my lock screen is filled with missed texts from Jasmine. Some are jocular, some are nervous, some are crude, and some are angry — though there’s far less of the last emotion than I’d be feeling in Jasmine’s shoes.

The time is indeed correct. Jasmine’s appointment with Caspian White began forty-seven minutes ago, and yet here’s this dickhead now, moving from his fancy car and into the coffee shop, a cell phone plastered to his ear.

I watch him until the outer door closes behind his trademark suit.

Then I put my camera back in my bag, cross the street, and follow.





CHAPTER FIVE

CASPIAN





IF BERNIE WERE HERE, I’D put my fist through the back of his throat.

“Mr. White? Are you still there?”

But of course I’m still here. The coffee shop door made noise when I opened it. Same as when it closed behind me. Now inside, there’s plenty of racket. Bernie knows the call wasn’t dropped when I abandoned my car and left him to stew in his own stupid silence. He’s trying to remind me that it’s my turn to speak without pissing me off even more than he already has.

For fifteen long seconds, I say nothing. Just to see if he’ll ask again.

Then I make my voice eminently reasonable. “I’m sorry, Bernie. I’m not sure I caught that. Could you repeat it?” I’m doing a fair enough calm voice, but the serenity must not be showing on my face because a fat man with a mustache looks away like he’s been burned when he accidentally meets my eyes. This happens right as I say to Bernie, “Please?”

“I … what?”

Now he’s just playing dumb.

“It’s loud here. Could you please just repeat what you said a moment earlier?”

Bernie sort of stammers, unsure. Then he says, “I said that I did let Lucy know that the new module was a bit behind schedule, and that maybe it slipped her mind, which is understandable, but it’s not that I didn’t — ”

“Ah,” I interrupt. “So the disconnect was when it crossed Lucy’s desk.”

“Y-yes? I guess so.”

“And maybe it slipped her mind. Because you did let us know. You’re on top of things. Because you’re a responsible guy who knows exactly what a delay means. Well, not that, actually. The Einstein module was expected to run behind. It’s no big deal that it did, so long as you let me know in advance. That way we could plan accordingly.”

“Well, right.”

“And you did let me know. Until Lucy dropped the ball.”

“I wouldn’t put it that way,” Bernie says. “She’s just got a lot going on and — ”

“Oh, of course. It’s understandable.”

“Y-yes, Mr. White.” He sounds relieved. “But to catch up, we’ll — ”

“Bernie?”

“Yes?”

“As it turns out, this time and this time only, the delay isn’t an issue and the fact that I didn’t know in advance wasn’t a big deal. It was just dumb luck. I have some shuffle room in my schedule and will be able to accommodate the changes necessitated by … Lucy’s … mistake. We didn’t make promises to the shareholders that we’ll have to go back on, based on this delay and the total lack of knowledge that it existed because of Lucy’s irresponsible ineptitude.”

“Now wait a second; I didn’t say — ”

“However,” I go on, “we still have a problem. Do you know what it is?”

“W-what? No, sir, I don’t.”

Sir. Nobody calls me sir, and I haven’t called anyone sir since my father last demanded it. Bernie’s such a pandering, pathetic asshole.

“Lies.”

“Lies?”

“Excuses.”

“I’m not sure what you — ”

“Bernie?”

“Yes, Mr. White?”

“Lucy doesn’t drop balls. Lucy has never, in her entire life, dropped a ball as important as updates on the Einstein module. Everyone at GameStorming who knows about development on the module knows how important it is. Not just to me, but to … everything.”

“I’m sure she was — ”

“Never,” I say, enunciating. “Details are Lucy’s bread and butter. She may not be able to debug endless lines of code or have three fancy degrees, but she can keep a fucking list of important things and make sure they get done. But it’s not just Lucy I’m trusting. I checked the messages you sent back and forth. You haven’t called her, according to the logs in and out of her desk. So tell me, Bernie — how exactly did you let her know about the delay? Did you write it in the sky?”