Outside the Lines(15)

“Can’t you fix it?”

I put on a pleasant smile. “Yes, in theory. This whole computer is really old though. I think it’d be better in the long run to consider a new one.”

Mindy purses her lips. “That’s up to Ben. He’s very stuck in his ways.”

Without seeing Ben, I assume he’s older. And probably gay. This gallery is way too chic to come from someone straight.

“The register is slow for credit cards too,” Mindy adds.

That’s a whole other issue. “I don’t think this building is wired for high-speed internet,” I say. “Upgrading can help with that too. Really, you gotta stay current with everything to get the fastest speed.”

“I’ll let Ben know.” She smirks. “And I’ll let him know you weren’t able to do what he hired you to do.”

“Well, he hired the company to create a state-of-the-art site that is only compatible with a new operating system.”

Her lips go into a thin line. “I’ll let him know.”

I don’t move, assuming she’s going to go talk to him now and then I can be on my way and find a damn bathroom. My bladder is not happy right now.

“I guess I’ll have him call your company then. I said he’s busy now, remember? He does not like to be disturbed. And he’s not going to be happy to hear you can’t fix this.”

I press my lips together and smile. “All right then.” I scoot the heavy chair away from the desk and stand, gathering my things. Someone else comes into the gallery, and I’m able to sneak out without saying any sort of awkward goodbye to Mindy. I call Cameron as I hurry across the street to a coffee shop. I don’t really need another coffee now, but they have a bathroom and my bladder is raging at me.

“Hey, boss man,” I say, holding the phone between my head and shoulder as I sit on the toilet, and quickly explain the situation.

“Are you in the bathroom?” Cameron asks when the toilet flushes.

“Uh, no.”

“Sure.” I can see him rolling his eyes. “And don’t worry about it. I’ll call later and get it sorted out.”

“Thanks,” I say and wash my hands. “Need me to come back?”

He hesitates. “Not really. Just act like you’re still busy over there.”

I smile and feel some of the stress melt off. It might not be so bad of a day after all.





CHAPTER FOUR





I’ll learn to go to bed at a reasonable hour someday, right? Maybe next year, when I’m older and wiser. But not now, when staying up playing games trumps sleep until the sun creeps up then I scramble to bed, trying to force myself to sleep before my alarm goes off in a few short hours.

I drag ass through work the next day, crashing when I come home. I wake up at nine-thirty, eat dinner, do a bit of cleaning, then take a book onto my small backyard patio and reading until mosquitos force me inside. The long nap makes it hard to fall asleep, so after using Mr. Silent Knight once or twice (or three or four times—hey, a girl has needs), I get out of bed to lay out the fabric for my costume and watch just one Harry Potter movie.

And then I’m dragging my ass into work Wednesday morning, just as tired as the day before. Having fallen asleep after I got out of the shower, I twisted my hair up into a bun as I walked from the parking lot into work. I did my makeup at stoplights, and had my favorite R2D2 tank top on under a white button up. I put off doing laundry and had been forced into the section of my closet I refer to as my “sexy librarian clothes,” which isn’t helping my issue with the top button of my shirt continually popping open.

“Look at you,” Cameron says as I put my lunch in the fridge in the break room.

I let the fridge door swing shut and give him a look. “I know. I overslept and look terrible.”

“I’m thinking the opposite,” he says. “You are rocking that tight skirt.”

“Really?” I turn my head to look at my ass. “I think it looks double its size.”

“Maybe I’m biased,” Cameron starts. “Or not biased, I guess, since I don’t find you sexually attractive.”

“Thanks,” I say dryly.

“Oh shut up,” he spits back. “I don’t find any woman sexually attractive, not with your breasts and vaginas.” He shutters. “Been there, tried that. So not my thing. But I do know you look good dressed up, by anyone’s standards. I don’t know why you don’t dress up more often.”

I hold my hand up and rub my fingers with my thumb, reminding him dressing up for work doesn’t benefit me. It’s not like I’ll do a better job if my skirt hugs my ass than if my pants bag around my cheeks.