Casey slapped Alyssa’s side. “You’re so rude. I can shut up, and I can keep a secret very well, especially if the secret means life or death.”
I hadn’t even realized I’d talked about my family life to Casey. She did check on me the whole morning, and I did let little snippets of my life slip through. I hadn’t known my little snippets equaled my entire life story.
I took my sandwich out of my paper bag. “Since you know so much about me, why don’t you tell me about yourself, Alyssa?”
“Alyssa Brighton. Born and raised here in Illinois and currently working as CPA and head accountant for this company. Went to Columbia Business School. Graduated summa cum laude. Father is a successful lawyer with his own firm here, and my mother is the head of a nonprofit organization for blind children. I’m the youngest of four children. The only girl. You can imagine my pain.” She unpacked her own lunch from a square Louis Vuitton lunchbox. Even her lunch containers looked expensive.
“No offense, Alyssa. What the hell are you doing at this factory?”
She should be working at some high-powered accounting firm.
I unwrapped my plain ham and cheese sandwich from the Saran Wrap. I’d made it myself this morning. It seemed a little grade school—compared to Alyssa’s steak, potatoes, and carrots and Casey’s fancy salad with radishes and almonds and kale—but this was me, and I loved my ham and cheese sandwiches.
“Honestly, I needed to get away from my parents and my overprotective brothers. I couldn’t exactly sow my oats with the secret service of brothers following me everywhere I went. Plus, I swore I would never work for corporate. I like this company much better. A family-owned business is where I need to be.” She squirted some sanitizer on her hands before unwrapping her silverware from plastic wrap.
Casey smiled big, her eyes squinting to the point where I couldn’t see her pupils. “She doesn’t need the money.” Her voice was whisper-soft, so only I could hear. “She works here because she loves it, and she hates rich people.”
Well, I guessed there were some people who worked because they actually loved their job and didn’t give two craps about a paycheck. Unfortunately, I was not one of those people.
“Nothing is a secret with Casey.” She stuck the fork in her cut-up steak. “I don’t hate rich people. I hate corporate America.”
As I sat there, taking everything in, I realized they were opposites in every term of existence, but it was as if they’d known each other for years.
“How do you guys know each other?” I said, mid-chew.
“We room together,” Casey squealed.
I almost choked on my sandwich. I coughed and then grabbed for my water, taking a long gulp down. Room together? Being as they seemed to be on opposite spectrums of the universe with their personalities and what they wore, I couldn’t exactly see them as rooming together. Nor could I see them as actually eating lunch together, but yet here we were, three mismatched peas in a pod.
“We do,” Alyssa said without emotion.
I didn’t know if she regretted her current living situation or just didn’t care. Looking at the diamond infinity ring on her right hand, I doubted she needed a roommate to make ends meet.
“I know what you’re thinking.” Alyssa waved a hand in the air. “But it’s hard not to love her. Overbearing and nonstop chatting are a little bit annoying at times, but she makes it up in her caring and cleaning ways.” Alyssa’s voice was smooth, like one of those older movie stars who spoke with an air of authority, which made you believe that everything she said was true and there was no room to question her.
Casey pushed her shoulders to her ears, grabbed Alyssa’s hands, and shook them within hers. “I love you, BFF. I wish you’d wear that necklace I gave you.”
“Don’t make me take my words back.” She nodded toward Casey’s unfinished salad. “Eat.”
I found out that Alyssa and Casey lived in Presidential Towers, a high-rise in the West Loop of Chicago.
Alyssa was the head of the accounting department. She managed five people and was damn proud of doing it.
When our lunch was finished and we were about to say our good-byes, Casey took out this little contraption from her lunchbox. “I hope you don’t mind. I have to test my blood sugar.”
Immediately, I stood and took two healthy steps back. “I do.” Sweat beaded across my forehead and on the back of my neck. “Um … um … you can’t do that here.” I placed both palms against my chest and closed my eyes, tightly feeling the ground sway beneath my feet. “You know what? I’m going to go.” I about-faced, my eyes still closed.
“Honey …” Alyssa gripped my shoulder. Her voice was meant to soothe me, but it did the opposite to my raging, beating heart. “You look a little green. Maybe you should sit down. Casey, baby, put that away, please.”
I gripped Alyssa’s forearm, and she led me back to the table, where I sat down.
“It’s put away,” Casey said.
Slowly, I opened my eyes, my breathing and pulse still ragged.
Casey placed one soft hand on top of mine on the table. “You have an aversion to needles or something like that? Because I get it. My roommate was like that. And my mother, she can’t be around when I have to check my blood sugar. When I was younger, my father did it—”
“Casey …” Alyssa’s stern voice stopped the chatty box from chattering.
I dropped my head in my hands and rubbed at the temples. After a beat, I found my voice again. Taking a deep breath and slowly letting it out, I said, “I have an aversion to needles—to blood mostly. Any blood. Even if it’s a paper cut, I faint at the sight.” I inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly, practicing my calming techniques.
Alyssa patted my back. “Well, it’s really good we know that now. I wouldn’t want you to inadvertently faint or something like that, especially not on your first day of the job.”
It took a few seconds to get my bearings and for my breathing to even out.
Casey smiled. “Are you okay? Do you need some water?”
Alyssa had ahold of one of my hands, and Casey had ahold of the other.
I shook my head. “I’m fine.”
And for a tiny bit, the first time since I’d moved into this new town, as these two new girls held my hands, I knew that everything was gonna be okay. At least here, at work, it would be.
“You know what is better than water?”
I peered up at Alyssa.
“Alcohol.” She smiled. “Happy hour tonight, and we’re not taking no for an answer.”
Connor
It was funny how time went by so quickly when you were on a deadline.
I breathed through my next few seconds, peering at the sea of little people walking to their destinations below me. At this height, looking down, it seemed like I was on top of the world, but looks could be deceiving.
I’d been racking my brain on new concepts for the rebranding initiatives, working through lunch at my desk, trying to think of new ideas I could have my marketing team work on, but other than what Charlie had said this morning, my mind was coming up blank.
Maybe I could outsource, hire another marketing firm. But the reputational risk was too huge. It couldn’t get out that Colby’s was struggling.