Chapter 8: Two Steps Back

Sunday

In the evening, I felt like Cinna Buns, the way I peeked over the backside of the couch. Greta was in the kitchen humming and hair-flipping away as she finished putting away her groceries.

"Ada, why do you look like that?" Greta sang before practically skipping out of the small space and finally to where I needed her to be–on the couch. I'm surprised you noticed me.

"I'm hoping I get to finally talk to you after you disappeared yesterday shortly after he came over," I began with a sigh.

"Well, you know I wanted to spend time with George and to be honest my allergies were going kind of crazy with the cat," she shrugged, before glancing at her phone and smiling.

Allergies?

"I'm sorry. I did a new air purifier and I vacuum often." Plus, we always ran an air purifier before the cat because of the stuffy nature of our apartment complex. The purifier was my idea, and it came out of my pocket. As bad as the furball is, she didn't shed as badly nor did she destroy as much as her personality might have one believe. And weren't you just on a plane with that nasty recycled air?

"Yeah, and I appreciate it, but it's still sorta everywhere," Greta said wrinkling her nose. "Don't worry, I'll just take my allergy meds."

Girl...

"Sorry, I had no idea you were allergic," I grumbled, recalling how George's roommates had two big ass cats and a ferret. Was she confusing Cinna Bun's fur with what had to be coming from his place? Or worse, she forgot she told me he lived with animals because they've been together for three months and I've barely seen her since!

"So tell me about your job," Greta rerouted the subject with a smirk. Her eyes were still far away, deep in the digital canon as she focused on the device in her hands. There was no smile on my face. Finally, my silence pulled her attention from the screen.

Oblivious to the cause of my frown, Greta asked, "What's the matter?"

I rolled my eyes and sighed before standing up from the couch.

"Is George coming over?"

The gleam in her eyes gave it away, and I sprung from the count myself pointed towards my room.

The dick can't be that good. Seriously, it can't...

"Aww, c'mon, Ada!" Greta pleaded. "Sit down."

Greta and I had our differences in opinions, but that's part of what made the friendship last for so long. While I've appreciated alternative perspectives, it was hard to find the middle ground with her in relation to this new guy. Actually, this was an issue I had with almost all the men she let waste her time. She had a type, and they were all minimal effort which generally alluded to a low-quality attitude, but she would never admit it until after a breakup. She had yet to come to grips with the shift in their behavior once they found out she was a well-paid lab technician. Greta was sweet to a fault, and the selfish part of me needed some of her kindness.

She showed her teeth in a bright smile and said, "He won't be here for another half an hour. Just tell me about the job."

She batted her lashes with coke bottled eyes and sighed, giving in to the opportunity. Without unwinding my face, I fell back down on the couch and crossed my arms.

"Tell me about this job you're gonna keep long term this time," she started and rested her elbow on the couch.

I had yet to relax full and cocked my head back. "What does that mean?"

"Well, you quit your last two jobs out of the blue, and I'm hoping this one isn't the same case."

"Yeah, maybe we should get to the part where I actually tell you about my job before we assume I'm going to quit."

She waved her head and confessed with an extended shrug, "Sorry, Ada. You do have a track record."

I leaned back before I stood up again. "What the fuck, Greta?"

"The landlord is about to raise the building's rent, and we're supposed to renew our lease in a month. I just want to make sure that you're secure."

"If I was struggling to meet payments, I would have let you know ages ago. I do enjoy having a roof over my head."

She patted the couch with both hands once and grumbled ruefully. "I'm sorry, but you know what I mean."

What on earth is happening? Confused by her humored expression, I couldn't fight the rage that rose from my mouth. "Actually, I don't. You suddenly tell me you have allergies after you spend a week at George's apartment, which IS a zoo, by the way. And then you insinuate that I will quit a job I haven't even told you about under the guise of meeting rent expectations." I raised my hands horizontally to sides of my head and revolved them. "I feel like there's something that you want to say to me, but you're beating around every bush imaginable."

"Fine." Greta sat up straight and adjusted her shirt. "I'm still friends with Andre and I'm still trying to understand what happened two months ago."

"He dumped me."

Finally, she said in a snide tone. "Yeah, but why?"

"Did he tell you we spoke recently?" When Greta nodded, I scoffed. "So then you know why."

"Exactly, and that's why I wanted to know about the rent, Ada," she finished throwing darts with her eyes.

I looked up and placed my hands on my hips. "Have I ever faulted on my rent before?"

"No–"

"No, wait," I interrupted with a raised finger. "I'm still traveling back in time to find the moment I ever made you worry about the rent."

"You know what? I think this conversation has gone far enough."

"I finally agree with you today," I clapped once.

Greta rolled her eyes and retreated to the kitchen. I was about to advance into my bedroom when a thought hit me. I curled my brow and cocked my jaw. With my palms together, I took a few steps back to the kitchen.

She slammed a cabinet, and I asked, "You know after those uncalled for questions, they suddenly make sense. Do you want me to move out so someone can move in?"

Greta rolled her lips in and looked away briefly.

"I don't know what's going on and why no one wants to be upfront about their feelings about me. I lost Andre, and that was already hard enough, but now I'm going to lose another person I've known for almost a decade."

"It's time for us to grow up, Ada," she shrugged shyly.

I crushed my lips together. Tears sprang to my eyes but I fought them under control. I lowered my voice. "Yeah, and that's why I expected you to talk to me like an adult."

The following Monday, I pulled another tissue from my purse and pressed it to my eyes before crumbling it in my lap. Wisely, I avoided wearing any makeup because I would have wiped it all off before 10 AM. Dammit. How did I get hit with another breakup this soon? Something had to be wrong with me. If my friends were feeling the same way about me, as Andre did, who could I talk to? My mom and Nico were always an option, but I didn't want to call them crying about yet another separation. Plus, they were away in the Maldives for another week and I wanted them to enjoy it.

In between my tasks, I reluctantly began my apartment hunt. I wanted to curse Greta for asking me about my financial standings, as I was doing well enough to look for pet-friendly, one-bedroom apartments. Of course, I wasn't rolling in heaps of cash, but it was a two-hundred percent increase from my last job. They also had incompetent bosses whereas Mr. Leoné was flat out confusing. Though the newest gig reigned supreme in comparison, I still didn't want to be in the office. To make matters worse, the day was riddled with meetings and I attended my third, and last one, at 3 PM.

"There are too many changes to be made." Willoughby jumped out the gate with his complaints.

Finally, capturing my attention in the marketing update meeting, I looked up and lowered my laptop halfway. Taking a glance at Chris before Mr. Leoné, I crossed my arms, waiting for Willoughby to go on.

And he went on, "More than half of these bugs and-and-and changes are too drastic for our customers."

Mr. Leoné took in a deep breath. It was clear his mouth was about to form to let out a question, but I interrupted dryly, "Such as?"

All eyes turned on me, but I remained pinned on Willoughby. Not today, little man.

He wrinkled his face and spat, "Such as changing the tables to these hidden panels."

"I originally suggested we remove the current tabular display altogether and create a pdf of the statements, but it was already written in the requirement doc that these long tables with a horizontal scroll on a MOBILE device would be there."

"Because the clients are used to the–"

I interrupted again, poking the table with my pointer finger. "The clients are also not used to seeing their portfolios on a mobile device in a responsive setting."

"We can't get rid of the tables."

"We're not getting rid of them. The suggestion is to change into a readable tabular and printable format." I grew louder. "The entire point of the app is to put the control in the user's hands, literally. However, you have to prioritize what information they have access to first and readability."

"You have valid points, Ms. Young," Baddone interjected with a sigh and looked to Mr. Leoné and Chris. "However, I don't believe all of these updates will meet the timeline we've promised to the clients. We should revert our agenda to what we had a month ago and make sure we get the product to the client."

I lowered my head to scoff. Wow. This is some bullshit.

"Ada, please let Chris and I speak with you after this meeting," Mr. Leoné carefully chimed in.

"Okay," I mouthed, before lifting my laptop screen and scrolling through my email just to do something with my shaking hands. The meeting concluded fifteen horrible minutes later. Once Willoughby, Baddone, Ms. Ruth and DeShawn left, I jumped from my seat and Chris exhaled loudly before muttering his weariness. Pacing behind my chair, I waited for Mr. Leoné to finish closing the door.

Finally, I went off, "What am I supposed to do for the next five months?"

Chris stood and held his hands up, "Ada, just calm down–"

"I'm sorry," I laughed with balled fists. "But I can't. They just told me my job is unnecessary. My contract is only six months long and now I do not understand how I'm supposed to contribute to the very project I was brought on board for!"

Mr. Leoné neared me, and I blurted with widened eyes, "Am I getting fired right now?"

"No-no-no," he reassured me with an extended hand, "Calme-toi! (Please calm down!)"

He gestured to me to sit. When I finally did, Mr. Leoné rubbed his chin.

"Honey, you have been on edge all morning," I slid my hands down my face. "Mhm, see that look there? I've seen it all day."

Suddenly, we watched Mr. Leoné yank open the door and thunder out of the room. Chris whispered in shock, "He looks mad."

"I'm sorry," I grumbled.

"I don't think he's upset with you. Honestly, I'm pissed about what they alluded to as well, but all of us can't be up here huffin' and puffin'." He laughed and patted my shoulder. "Could you imagine him hollering in French, me shouting in Spanish, and you yelling in facts?"

I smiled and looked at him, and he went on, "Honey, you had words for Willoughby! I almost called 911 to tell them I was witnessing a murder!"

It felt great to chortle. Chris was a soothing balm again, and I needed a mental break. What I didn't know I needed was what he would tell me next.

"You're not going anywhere, Ada. You're a valuable asset and while I don't want to speak for the big boss, I'm positive it's mutual that we don't regret bringing you on board."

His sweet words cued my unexpected emotional breakdown. I apologized for crying, but I couldn't stop. Chris was patient with me and suggested I take the rest of the day off and go home. Little did he know, I didn't feel comfortable there either. It was the main reason I tipped so easily over the edge.

"Shit isn't crazy today, so come by my office if you want to talk about what's going on before you leave. And then after you pack up, stop by Mr. Leoné's office before you go. I'm sure he'll want to know you're okay before you leave." He took a pained glance at the door. "Child, I would not want to be Baddone or Willoughby's lil' ass right now."

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Everyone, please stay safe during this COVID-19 pandemic, and help where you can or if not able, do your best to remain informed about what is going on beyond your general boundaries. If possible, remain calm as stress, anxiety, paranoia, etc. can suppress the immune system and increase the probability of jeopardizing our health. -M

Chapter 9 Releases - 3/27/2020