What A Girl Wants (22 page)

A
sserting oneself could be deliciously contagious. Once Hayley got used to it, it was difficult to stop. Or maybe it was that she didn't want to stop.

Hayley had no idea what the final outcome of the Grant Thing would be. Maybe he was full of shit and seeing this thing through just long enough to get her back in bed for one more round.

Or maybe it would actually turn into something, become a boyfriend/girlfriend scenario and blow up three months down the line.

Or maybe he was the One.

Hayley put her hands behind her head and leaned back in her office chair. She had no idea, but as it stood, she didn't particularly care. For now she had what she wanted, and she'd gone out and done it herself.

The sound of George slurping and smacking in a prolonged effort to reduce his Cheerios to a digestible pulp brought home the fact that not
everything
was quite what she'd like it to be.

The fact was, she didn't want to be here. The trouble was, she
had rent to pay. She could be mercenary and suck it up until she'd squirreled away some money and brought her savings back up to a safer level. Or she could chuck it all and take another path.

She knew what she
should
do and she knew what she
wanted
to do. Glancing over her shoulder out of habit, Hayley confirmed that no one was watching. She went on-line and started surfing the techie job sites.

“Hayley Jane, how
are
you?”

Goddammit, Eileen!
Hayley twitched in her chair with a start and immediately killed her browser window. How embarrassing. The second week of work and she got caught looking for another job.

“Hayley, we've got a problem.” Eileen let the word “problem” hang out there all cheerful and long-voweled in that perky voice.

Hayley still hadn't put her finger on what exactly it reminded her of, but it rivaled George's Cheerios-smacking on the fingernails-against-blackboard scale of annoying noises.

Ever since the incident with Killer in the conference room, things had been a little uneasy between her and Eileen. They both faked a smile whenever they met in the employee kitchen, but this was the first time Eileen had ever stopped by Hayley's cube. Of course, that may have had something to do with fearing for her personal safety.

“That's right, we've got a problem,” Eileen repeated. Apparently she was waiting for Hayley to react. Inside, Hayley was reacting . . . to Eileen's beige polyester pantsuit.
Heh. No, seriously, Hayley. Concentrate. Okay. So.
She and Eileen had one thing in common: Together they had a problem. Well, whatever it was, it couldn't be good.

And under these circumstances, how bad could something that couldn't be good, be?

“Why don't you have a seat, Eileen, and we can discuss it.” Hayley picked a stack of papers off her guest chair and made a welcoming hand gesture.

Eileen sat down, primly folding her hands in her lap. She smiled hard enough to pop a couple of lightweight dimples.

Hayley stared at her. Was she going to fire her? Could they have decided already that she wasn't up to snuff? Perhaps it was the way she'd put her desk together.

Was this a mercy killing?

A wave of delightful anticipation swept through her, and Hayley realized just how much she'd like to cut bait. Hell, a mercy killing—getting fired with a chunk of “mistake money” when you really wanted to leave all along—was as good a method as any.

Trying her best not to look inappropriately hopeful, she said, “We're both professionals. I'm sure we can come to an understanding, whatever the problem is.”

Eileen rubbed her lips together. “It concerns your writing.”

“Oh.” Hayley wrinkled her forehead, then added helpfully, “Too snarky? Or not snarky enough?”

Eileen produced a toothy smile, then leaned over and patted Hayley's knee. “I'd like to take you to lunch.”

Hayley cringed reflexively, because Eileen's expression reminded her of Killer's look just before he'd lunged for her hands. “Uh, okay.”

“It's not too snarky. And it's not that it isn't snarky enough. The problem is . . .” Eileen paused, letting the moment string out. Suddenly she looked like she was going to give Hayley a tasty treat or a present or something.

Alarm bells went off in Hayley's head. She swallowed fearfully,
just as Eileen finished up with, “. . . the problem is that we love it! We absolutely love it. I'm taking you to lunch because we think your writing is: Fan. Tastic!”

Hayley froze. “Oh.” She cycled through a variety of expressions and settled on “crazed.” “Oh!”

But Eileen didn't notice the expression. She just kept going, gushing and flapping about, using her hands excessively as she spoke. “I want to be honest,” she was saying, “so I'll tell you that when we first met and there was that situation with poor Killer, I wasn't sure how you'd fit in.”

Hayley just nodded.

“And then when I took a look at the sample URLs listed on that résumé Audra forwarded, I was concerned that we might have to help you make a little bit of an adjustment with your writing. Just a liiittle bit.”

Her face was all screwed up and she was pinching her fingers together at the tips to bring home the point that the adjustment was extremely small. “But you've really come into your own in the last several days.”

The corner of Hayley's mouth twitched as she struggled to hold back a laugh. “Really? And what was your favorite?”

Eileen leaned forward ecstatically. “For example, the piece on kitchen tools and sexual gratification?”

Oh, God.
The woman managed to say that with a straight face. The fact that she said it in her high-pitched, squeaky animal voice made it even better.

“You're referring to, ‘G-Spot, Gee whiz!'?”

“That's the one. It was just so clever!”

To her credit, Eileen was working real hard to make Hayley feel
good, and frankly, under normal circumstances, she'd be doing a reasonable job. But these weren't normal circumstances. . . and Hayley wasn't normal.

And actually, she felt a little bit bad about stringing Eileen along, but it
was
kind of funny. “I'm so glad you liked it. I drew on the influence of the accompanying retro-fifties illustration . . . you know, the housewife and the eggbeater?”

Eileen sat back up, her hands flapping excitedly. “It's just. . . can I say we just love what you're doing. We love it. The click-through on your titles is incredible. And in just one week we've seen an unusually large increase in page views for the pages you've been working on.”

Hayley wanted to tell her to calm down, or slap her or something, or maybe just come out and tell her not to be such an idiot, because that was what happened when you used sex in headlines to catch people's attention. Somehow she managed to control herself, which she thought was pretty impressive, given that she didn't have a whole lot to lose.

“I'm really looking forward to being your mentor, Hayley,” Eileen said as she stood up and brushed off her pants.

Hayley's eyebrows flew up. “My mentor? You're planning to be my mentor?”

“Not everyone gets to have one. It means we'll be spending our lunches together discussing your progress and professional development.”

Hayley flinched. “I really don't deserve this, Eileen.”

“Oh, but yes, you do.”

“Oh, but no. I don't,” Hayley replied firmly. It suddenly dawned on her. The woman's voice was the equivalent of cheerful
yellow baby chicks and furry little white bunnies. She'd rather be held under alien surveillance than deal with this.

Well, maybe not. Six of the one, half dozen of the other.

Suddenly Eileen sat back down again and pulled her chair right up close to Hayley's. “You know what? I just can't hold it in. I was going to tell you this over lunch, but I'll tell you now.” She drew her upper body up as straight as it could go and said, “We're taking you off probation early. You can go ahead and order your business cards!”

There obviously wasn't going to be a mercy killing. Hayley stared at the woman in disbelief, surprised at how disappointed she felt. If she wanted out, she would have to euthanize herself.

Suddenly Hayley didn't feel like waiting to find a new techie job on-line. She didn't feel like waiting around for anything.

She felt a strange calm come over her.

There was no need to make a big scene. She'd allow herself one last indulgence, just a small speech, and then it was Quitsville.

“Actually, Eileen, I'm terribly sorry, but I simply don't think I'm capable of stooping to that level of degradation for the honor of holding such a glamorous, prestigious job in a smelly loft with no air-conditioning while bringing in the wages of an illiterate mango.”

Eileen pulled back, confused. “Mang—I beg your pardon?”

“ ‘Illiterate mango.' I'm trying to drive the point across that only an exotic piece of uneducated fruit would want to work in these conditions.” Hayley wheeled her chair around so that her back was to Eileen, and started to stack up the papers on her desk. “That's a fairly small audience. It appears I've made a mistake.”

“Hayley Jane,” Eileen said.

Hayley's eyes widened.
Wow
. The woman's voice went from hot to icy cold in less than ten seconds. Fluffy baby chick was now a frozen chicken entrée.

She slowly turned around to find Eileen looking at her with an expression of sheer disbelief, opening and closing her mouth several times, but totally unsure how to proceed.

Hayley wasn't sure whether it was the nonsensical tropical-fruit reference that had thrown her off the scent, or something else. She didn't actually care.

She smiled as pleasantly as she could and said, “It's okay. I was eventually going to quit anyway. At some point in the next few days it would have dawned on me that I should just quit as soon as possible. This is not where I need to be. Consider it no harm, no foul. I'll pack up and be out of here in an hour.”

“You can't quit,” Eileen choked out. “Nobody
quits
in a job market like this. Getting fired or laid off is one thing, but no sane individual quits.”

“I don't recall putting ‘one sane individual' on my résumé. I don't even have a ‘hobbies' section on my résumé.”
Hmm. Maybe I should get out more.

Eileen slowly stood up, then wordlessly backed out of the cube.

Hayley sat back in her chair and watched her leave. When Eileen was gone, she put her head back and stared up at the ceiling. Same industrial-light-fixture ceiling laid in next to the building's pipe system.

And she just sat there. Blinking. Just sat there, quietly flapping her eyelids and taking in oxygen. It felt peaceful. There was none of the disquiet and worry she'd felt after getting fired, even though the bottom line was the same. She was unemployed. But for some bizarre reason, she just felt free this time.

Free.

Hayley giggled, then clamped her hand over her mouth. She regained her composure, then got up from the chair, got on her hands and knees, and pulled the empty box from her last job out from under the desk.

With a crazed grin, Hayley walked to the supply closet and tore a strip of stickers off the roll of orange circles. She went back to her cube and plastered
Basura
all over her box and packed up her personal belongings.

“Y
ou skipped last Sunday,” Diane said accusingly.

“Yeah, I know,” Hayley said. “I was going to call, but I didn't think any of you were speaking to me.”

“None of us have missed a Sunday for as long as I can remember,” Suz noted. “No matter how late I've been up Saturday night, or whose house I'm at, I never miss a Sunday.”

“I guess I just figured a cooling-off period would be good.”

“We ordered your latte,” Audra said, shocked. “It just sat there, a disgusting film forming on the top. We expected you to be here.”

“Not to mention, your absence has already put us behind. We've been working hard on a new strategy,” Diane said. “Audra's found a couple of exciting job alternatives, and Suz apparently met a gaggle of sailors you're supposed to choose from, and—”

Hayley burst out laughing.

“I don't know what's so funny. There's more, even. I've talked to Bruno about becoming his protégé, and even though he refuses to see you again, he suggested a couple of new techniques
I
can try out on you.”

“You guys are so good to me.” Hayley shook her head, truly overwhelmed. She'd been totally impossible over the last few weeks. And they'd hung in with her every step of the way. “The thing is, I'm totally under control. See, I've got some good news—”

She stopped abruptly. The three girls were smiling knowingly amongst themselves. “What?”

“Look, we understand that this is a difficult time for you,” Audra said. “And there's no need to pretend in front of us.”

Diane nodded. “And we also understand that you really want to be the one making the changes. So we're going to have you choose which one of us to work with first.”

“See, that's a decision,” Audra said encouragingly.

“But that's what I'm trying to tell you. The good news is that you don't need to worry about me so much. This time I mean it.”

Audra put a hand on her hip. “Well, we
are
worried,” she said. “As a matter of fact, we've been worried since last Sunday.”

Suz nodded. “At first each of us assumed that you'd called one of the others, but when we met on Sunday and found out that wasn't the case, we were
really
worried. You never returned our phone messages.”

“And you FedExed my Palm back to me,” Diane said. “How exactly was I supposed to interpret that?”

“Sorry, I got really busy and I knew I'd see you today,” Hayley explained. “And you just won't believe what I've accomplished since I last saw you.” In a teasing tone, she added, “You are going to be shocked and amazed.”

“We already
were
shocked and amazed.” Suz propped her chin up with her hand. “I was going to go to the police station and get Grant to come with me to your apartment and break the door down.”

“You were going to go to the police station and get Grant to introduce you to the other policemen,” Audra clarified with a smile. “Suz showed us her new hot pants last Sunday.” She waved her hand in front of her face, pretending to be overheated. “Silver lamé. Breaking down your door was just an excuse.”

“And what was your excuse for volunteering to come with me? I'm thinking you were hoping to find someone in Internal Affairs so you could ask about those corrupt policemen.”

Audra just shrugged. “I only said I was interested in going if you needed some moral support.”

“I know what you said,” Suz said, elbowing Audra.

“Suz needs more ‘moral support' than you could possibly supply, anyway,” Diane said.

Suz snickered, obviously quite pleased with the comment.

“Well, you'll be happy to know you're off the hook,” Hayley said. “I don't need your help anymore.”

The three girls studied her in silence.

“You heard me right. I'm looking into a whole new career. Nobody says you have to keep doing the job you thought you wanted when you were in college. There is absolutely no rule that says that even if you've spent years studying toward one thing in particular, you have to do it one minute longer than absolutely necessary.”

“Who are you trying to convince? Me or you?” Audra asked.

“I'm already convinced. I went to Diane's lecture and now I'm convinced.”

“You went to
my
class?” Diane asked.

“Well, I knew you weren't going, so I figured there would be a free seat,” Hayley said. She put a hand on her heart and added, “I went to your Human Sexuality lecture and stood there on that stage looking out at a sea of malaise.”

“What were you doing on the stage?” Diane asked fearfully.

“I'd volunteered for a role-play game.”

“Oh, my God.” Diane put her head in her hands and mumbled, “
Nobody
volunteers. My A.”

“Don't be ridiculous. Nobody even knows I know you.” Hayley laughed and added, “I told the guy next to me I was from Sweden.”

“And he believed you?” Suz asked.

“Yeah, I know, pretty bad, huh . . . ? So, anyway, I stood there on that stage, looking at these people about four or five years behind me, about to make all the same mistakes. And I went home and basically asked myself, why do we do things we really don't want to do? And why don't we do more of the things we want to do? And why—
why
—don't we do something about it before it's too late?”

Diane looked a little stunned. “If you'd wanted to go to class with me, you could have just asked. I would have guided you. I could have explained what is and isn't appropriate in the collegiate environment. I know it's been a few years for you.”

“I'm glad I didn't know.” Hayley took a sip of coffee. “Fred Leary dies in the cube next to me and nobody notices. I'm willing to bet that all he really wanted to do was fold origami, not sit in some stuffy cube haranguing people over improper use of the subjunctive form. This is a good thing, Diane. I'm really looking forward to this.”

She looked around the table. “I see you're all looking a bit skeptical. Let me put it this way. I tried all these things. Tried to force myself to go in different directions. Be more like you, Diane. More like Audra. More like Suz. What I really needed to do was just . . . let go and follow my heart and use my head.” She shrugged as if it were the most simple and obvious explanation in the world.

“Follow your heart?” Diane put a hand on Hayley's forehead, ostensibly to check for fever. “You don't feel warm or clammy or anything. But that's the most clichéd thing I've ever heard.”

“And there must be a reason for that.” Hayley flashed her shit-eating grin around the table.

“Wait a minute. Look at her. She's suspiciously Zen. What happened?” Diane asked. “Something's happened to you.” She drew in a sharp breath. “Oh, God. Were you approached by a cult?”

“Hayley's part of a cult now? Does this mean we can start using the collective ‘we'?” Suz was laughing as she said it.

Audra looked horrified. “Don't laugh! Di may be right. We left Hayley alone, vulnerable and in the middle of a personal crisis. That's when those people strike. Is that where you were last Sunday, Hay? Some sort of strange New Age-cult Bible study? You didn't eat anything while you were there, did you?”

“No, believe me, that's not what happened.”

“You see? They teach them to deny everything. This may require an intervention of some sort.” She patted Hayley's hand across the table. “Don't you worry, Hay; we'll get you the very best.” Audra pulled her hand back, took the cell phone from her bag, and started scrolling through the address book.

Suz subjected Hayley to some close scrutiny, then shook her head at Audra. “I really don't think that's it.”

Audra put her palm up to Suz's face. “One sec. Intervention . . . intervention. . .drug rehab. No, wrong kind of intervention. Maybe D for ‘deprogramming.' Ah, here we go. Let's see. ‘Deprogramming, cult.' Now, which one should we call . . . ?”

Suz and Diane looked at each other. Diane nodded and said,
“Audra, you're not listening to her. Look at her.” Audra looked up in surprise, then put the phone down and looked at Hayley.

“I did
not
get approached by a cult and I will
not
be requiring deprogramming,” Hayley said. “Nobody told me to deny anything. Honestly. I just figured out what I needed to do for myself, and then I did it.”

Audra looked at her, then at Diane and Suz, then back to Hayley. “Oh. Fine.” Sheepishly, she tossed the phone back in her bag. “I guess I just wasn't quite ready to give you up as my project.”

“Why don't you tell us what happened?” Suz asked.

And so she did. She told them about storming the police station and kissing Grant against the holding cell, and about prematurely
basura
ing herself from her latest job.

Needless to say, they were speechless.

Hayley blithely sipped her latte while the girls picked at their food without really seeing it, stared off into space, or scratched their faces in wonder.

“Mother of God,” Suz finally said.

The other girls nodded slowly.

“You quit your job,” Diane said.

“That's right.”

“And you confronted Grant on his own turf and came out of it with a second date,” Audra said.

“That's pretty much what happened,” Hayley said.

“Holy Mother of God.”

The girls looked at each other and then scooted their chairs closer to the table.

Diane smiled her best psychiatric smile and put her clasped hands out in front of her on the tabletop. “Hayley, we all want to
be supportive here. We certainly don't want to burst your bubble, do we?” She looked at Audra and Suz for support. They nodded obligingly. “But—”

“But what?” Hayley asked.

“But we don't want to see you get in trouble.”

Hayley grinned a loopy sort of grin. “What trouble? I'm not in trouble. I'm distinctly out of trouble. Troubleless. Sans trouble.”

“Be serious,” Audra said.

“Okay, I'm serious.” Hayley lifted her hands up questioningly. “Where's the trouble?”

“You seem to be unemployed. Again. With no more prospects than you had the first time around. Not that this is a problem for me,” Suz said, “but last time I checked, you seemed to think this was a problem for you.”

“I'm looking into other things. I may just leave tech behind for good.”

“Leave tech behind?” Audra gasped. “You've been in tech your whole career. What on earth would you
do
?”

“Something else.” Just saying it felt terrific. “I'm exploring my options.”

“Okay, that's great. That's great,” Suz agreed, not looking as though she thought it was really all that great.

An uncomfortable silence settled in among them.

“Let's just switch gears for a moment,” Diane said. “About Grant. I think what you did was admirable. I really do, and it sounds like maybe there might be something to this relationship. . . .”

“But?” Hayley prompted, totally unconcerned.

“But what if he's just using you for sex? Are you mentally
prepared for that possibility?” Audra and Suz looked at Diane and nodded their agreement.

Hayley considered this. “Well, I have to admit that I'm thinking that would . . . suck. And it's not entirely out of the realm of possibility. . . .”

The three of them looked at her, concern etched all over their faces.

“Let's just say that the guy is very accomplished at what he does.” Hayley smiled and wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. “And I'm having a good time with him. So I'm going to try not to overanalyze every little thing.” She shrugged. “Bottom line is, I'm not going to worry right now about where it is or isn't going to go.”

“Okay, that seems reasonable,” Suz said. “Very reasonable.” There was another long pause and she added, “Is this something you'll want to worry about later?”

Hayley just laughed. “I hope not.”

“What's next?” Audra asked.

“The zoo.”

Diane choked on a sip of water.

“It was my idea to go, so don't try to tell me there's something called the Zoo Trick I should be aware of.”

“There's no Zoo Trick
I
know of,” Diane said. “Anybody else?”

They all shook their heads.

“The zoo?” Audra asked, trying to suppress her laughter. “How . . . cute.”

“I think so,” Hayley said. “I think this next date will be rather tame, and that's fine by me. Like I said to Grant, it's an opportunity for us to get to know each other in a no-stress environment. I figure, what could possibly happen at the zoo?”