Scissor Link by Georgette Kaplan (novels to improve english .txt) 📗

at her, you can see that she’s all…” Wendy shook her head. “She’s just amazing.”

“You know what you should do?” Keith said. He’d finished mowing. “You should get one of those side-cuts. Those look great!”

“They do,” Regan agreed.

Groaning again, and only partially because of exercise, Wendy got to her feet. “Do you two mind planning the grand seduction without me? I think my clothes are done, so I should probably get going.”

Regan picked up her glass and handed it to her. “Take one for the road.” Then she lowered her voice. “And by the way, I was with Keith when he went through puberty. I’ve put in my time.”

CHAPTER 3

Wendy liked her new workplace in the Efficiency Optimization Department (a title so relentlessly buzzworded she was surprised that there were actual plaques with it written down in the right order). The carpet was thick and decadent, the lighting bright and full and mainly suborned by the giant windows that had most of the floor sunlit. There were no cubicles either. Her office space was the space in an office. It wasn’t in the corner or anything, but there was something psychologically soothing about being able to close a door behind you. Went back to the primitive hindbrain; being able to hide from dinosaurs or something. If dinosaurs hadn’t been able to open doors. She would have to ask a paleontologist or something.

She was just getting her desk moved into when something went thunk in her headspace and made her think, Fuck, T-rex!

It was a vase. Not even a particularly reptilian vase, just a normal vase with a few pansies in it that Janet Lace had set on the upper portion of her desk.

“Housewarming gift,” Janet explained, making minute adjustments to the flowers until they looked fit for van Gogh to paint. “How are you finding your new ‘digs,’ so to speak?”

“It’s very…windows,” Wendy replied, nodding to hers. “And everyone’s very well-dressed.”

“We have a group discount at my tailors,” Janet explained. “It’s all right if you don’t want to go,” she added insincerely.

“Those are really nice flowers,” Wendy said.

“They’re from my garden. Funny how I killed them just so you could feel welcome here.”

“What?”

Janet sidled down onto Wendy’s desk in a way that made Wendy resolve never to put pictures of her family—okay, cat—in that space. “I would just like to say something to clear the air. Efficiency Optimization is my department, you are my subordinate, and I absolutely believe in an open-door policy. You did exactly the right thing back at Safety & Risk Management, keeping the company from making a costly mistake. That being said, this is still my department; I am in charge, and I like control. So if you’re going to go over my head, you should be damn sure you’re right, or I’ll pull you like a weed. Like a fluffy little dandelion.”

“I…don’t want to go over your head,” Wendy said. Her voice sounded as if it was sweating.

“That’s good.” Janet sounded as if she was commiserating with Wendy. “I don’t want to pull you like a weed. So do your job, follow my instructions, and I promise I’ll take care of you. But always remember who’s in charge. All right?”

“Yeah.”

“I think you’re going to fit in well around here. I think you’re the kind of employee I like to have.” Janet reached over and picked up a snow globe from the cardboard box Wendy had been unpacking. “I like this. What is it—Hoboken?”

“Yeah, my dad got it for me on a business trip. You might know him, actually, he’s—”

Janet set the snow globe down by her vase. “I think it would look good here, don’t you? Well, I’ll leave you to it. And remember, don’t hesitate to come see me if you need anything. I like to keep my employees happy.”

“Yes. Thanks. I’m very happy.” Wendy smiled for Janet.

“You have a nice smile,” Janet told her, and left.

Wendy waited until her new boss was gone, then moved the snow globe a half foot away from the vase. She nodded in satisfaction—it looked much better there.

At night, the office shone white. The big windows turned black, the absence of sunlight throwing a pall over the floor, even with the lights still blazing away. The furnishings, the load-bearing pillars: all shades of white. Even most of the computers were gray, save for the monitor screens themselves. Coupled with the oppressive darkness, they seemed to brighten to a spectral glow, overwhelming any variety in color, any knickknacks that might’ve introduced a different hue. Coupled with the desertion of the 9-to-5 crew—which technically should’ve included her—Wendy felt like she was on a literal ghost ship, sailing dark waters, maybe taking flight among clouds in a starless sky. Outside the window, her floor was too far off the ground to see anything but the distant, rolling hills outside the city. Not a light among them.

The mood it put Wendy in pleasantly reminded her of her teenage goth years, and she abandoned her cramped yet cozy office to sit out on the main office floor with her laptop, finishing her work under a nice massage from the AC unit that never quite reached her workspace. On the far side of the elephantine room, the lights were on in Janet’s office. They burned like a private moon.

Wendy typed away, sending e-mail after e-mail to wait for morning in sleeping in-boxes. She felt a sense of communion with Janet, working this late. Despite the difference in ages, in position, they had the same drive, or so Wendy fancied. They wouldn’t quit until the work was done, exceptionally so. Being the best was their reward.

And so was explicit validation and approval. No one said the best couldn’t be self-aware.

She looked up from her laptop, some reptilian brain impulse driving her head up. She saw that the lights to Janet’s office were off. The communion vanished, replaced with a stark fear of being caught…doing what? Working late?

“Interesting attire