Absolute Zero (21 page)

She turned back toward the direction of the house. The sun was probably going to be all but set by the time she arrived back anyway. She would
not
allow Irene’s presence to keep her from the house.
Enough was enough
, she decided as she began to run.

*****

“You still here?” Anne asked in a subtly snotty tone as she wandered by Irene who had stopped scrubbing the kitchen counter to regard her. Anne grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator and stared back at the older woman as she uncapped it and brought it to her lips. She placed the bottle back before closing the door.

“Just don’t get in my way,” Anne added before leaving the room, a self-satisfied grin overtook her face as she headed up the stairs for a shower. If Irene responded, she had no idea, and quite frankly?

She didn’t give a shit.

*****

The whole morning was wasted. She pondered the pages of Ron’s notebook earlier, considering whether or not to refuse the project. They would want to know why and what could she say? It was obvious neither Jay nor Rand were aware of her past…experience with this subject matter. She couldn’t claim ignorance – her background would prove otherwise.

What to do?

Her pencil tapped irritably on the notebook, the only sound in the vacant office. The other inhabitants were all in the lab at the moment leaving her alone for the first time in hours.

What to do?

A loud sigh escaped her lips before a ping erupted from her computer. An instant message popped up and her eyes widened as the pencil dropped from her suddenly lax fingers.

Ian McClellan’s message to you:

Good morning.

She held her breath, her eyes darting to the bottom of the pop up screen to see if he was typing anything else.

He wasn’t.

Her eyes darted around the room quickly before settling back on the screen. Her heart rate escalated as the fluttering in her stomach decided to make another appearance exclusively for his benefit.

She settled her fingers on the keyboard before her eyes scanned the room once again for no apparent reason.

Your message to Ian McClellan:

Good morning.

She quickly backspaced through the word ‘morning’. It wasn’t morning in Scotland. He was five or six hours ahead of her.

Your message to Ian McClellan:

Good afternoon.

She hit send before she could talk herself out of it. She held her breath again as she watched the bottom of the screen.

Ian McClellan is typing…

Ian McClellan’s message to you:

Did they give you a project to work on?

Her breath escaped through pursed lips. Thankfully no one was around to hear the weird sound that produced.

Your message to Ian McClellan:

Yes.

Her eyes watched and waited for his response.

Nothing. Not even the indicator that he was typing.  Was he just making small talk? Should she type in something else? Should she apologize for Saturday night?
No. That was too awkward.

She continued to stare at the screen, waiting rather impatiently, wondering what was going through his brain. At least he was communicating. At least he hadn’t totally written her off. For some crazy reason? That pleased her. Maybe he truly cared that she was given a project? Or maybe he was testing the waters, so to speak? Whatever the original reason for his instant messaging, he wasn’t responding now. If he only knew how worked up she was becoming from some simple words on a computer screen. Knowing him, he would be delighted, she was sure. Unless, of course, this was completely on a professional level, in which case…

A ping erupted a split second after the status bar on the screen indicated he was typing.

Ian McClellan’s message to you:

Good.

Good?
That’s it?

She waited for any indication that he was typing something else, but nothing was forthcoming.  In fact, she was still staring at the screen for who knew how long before the door to the office opened causing her fingers to press her mouse frantically to minimize the screen.

“Hey you! The DASbox is free.”

Anne’s eyes immediately rose toward Em as she wandered in to the room.

“I really wish they would buy another one so we wouldn’t have to keep sharing, you know? Actually, if Rand would just spend the money to replace the shit Ron destroyed, we wouldn’t have this problem, but
noooo,
he says McClellan won’t approve any cap ex requests right now. That’s a bunch of shit if you ask me. This company is kicking serious financial ass and he can’t spring for replacements? For real?” She rambled as she walked past Anne’s desk and disappeared beyond the cubicle wall.

Anne didn’t know what to respond to. The fact that Ron was responsible for their lack of testing equipment or the fact that McClellan was apparently tight fisted when it came to capital expenditures.
Speaking of which…

Her finger tapped the mouse to maximize the instant message screen only to find that Ian was now in “Do Not Disturb” mode. He still hadn’t elaborated on his last message and that fact disappointed her for some reason she didn’t care to dwell on.

“What do you mean Ron destroyed the equipment?” she asked as she minimized the screen once again.

“You didn’t hear?” Em appeared a mere second later, leaning her weight against the wall separating their work spaces.

“When people say he lost it? I mean he
lost
it. Completely went nuts. One second he’s quiet, the next minute he’s throwing things all over the place. It was so bad, he couldn’t even talk. He just…I don’t know, he was grunting and screaming and we had to call the cops to come in and get him. He actually had Harry by the throat up against the wall when he tried to stop him. I’m telling you, it was like he was possessed or something. I’ve never seen anything like it,” Em stated with widened eyes.

“Really?” Anne sat back in her office chair, her mind completely focused on Em.

“Really. He’s been institutionalized ever since. He still isn’t any better, at least from what I hear.”

“Wow. That’s really…strange. And no warning signs?”

“Nothing. It really shook this place up for a while, but I think things are back to normal around here.”

Anne had no idea what to say to that so she nodded.

“Anyway, it’s about time for lunch. Are you free? I still owe you big, you know…”

“You don’t owe me anything,” she responded automatically.

“Oh yes, I do. I actually owe you way more than that, but let me at least spring for lunch,” she smiled causing Anne to follow suit.

“Sure,” she responded, almost shocking herself.

*****

Ian McClellan is available

She stared at the bottom of the Instant Message screen after assuring herself the last office dweller had left for the night. His “Good” response was the very last thing he wrote. It had to be at least 11:00 pm his time, and yet his computer was still signed on according to his email. Sighing, she almost clicked the button to close the conversation before a voice interrupted her.

“Hi there.”

She practically jumped out of her seat at the male voice. Immediately her eyes lifted to find a younger man standing in front of her desk. He was holding a large black garbage bag.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you, I thought you heard me working in here,” he stated with a smile. He was a nice looking guy, probably in his mid-twenties with spiky dark hair and vivid blue eyes.

“I’m Caleb,” he reached out a hand and she looked at it for an awkward moment before reaching out to shake it. “Caleb
Stratton
,” he emphasized his last name as if she should recognize it.

“Umm…I’m Anne,” she responded in a quiet voice as she watched him seat himself in the chair situated in front of her small desk.

“I know who you are. That’s why I had to come and introduce myself. I’m Irene’s son,” he stated as he watched her closely, waiting for a reaction.

“I’m sorry,” Anne blurted before she could catch the words. Her utterance was clearly amusing to him as he barked out a laugh.

“I…didn’t mean…” she stammered, instantly embarrassed.

“No! God no, don’t apologize. That was hilarious! She stopped by my house last night bitching about some woman living in the company house and I wondered if it was you. You know you were a hot topic last week after you let McClellan have it in the Boardroom. Everyone was talking about it,” he sat back into the chair and smiled broadly.

She had no idea what to say to that. Maybe the fact that she was quickly becoming famous for having an unfiltered mouth was a bit unsettling. Her mouth clamped in a grim line.

“Mom can dish it out but she can’t take it, apparently. She’s not always like that; so don’t take it personally, OK?”

Anne shrugged, still unsure of a response.

“She gets pissy sometimes. She’s been through a lot lately,” he added but didn’t elaborate immediately.

“OK?” Anne asked after a few moments. In reality, she could care less what Irene’s motives were.

“Yeah, so anyway, I thought I’d just say hi, usually you guys are gone before I get here, but looks like you’re working late, huh?”

“Actually, I was just about to leave. You…work here?” She nodded toward the garbage bag grasped in his hand.

“Oh yeah. I come from a long and prestigious line of people that clean up after other people. Mom cleans houses, I’m the custodian here, my Dad was the custodian at the high school, my sister Kelly…was a…maid, probably still is, I don’t know. Even my Grandpa was a groundskeeper for the Duponts. Isn’t that crazy?” He stood up abruptly, clutching the bag. “I guess you can say it’s in my blood.”

Anne shot him a small smile as he took a step back.

“Well, I need to get to it. You have a good night. Keep Mom on her toes, OK? Pissing her off might be a good way to break her out of this funk she’s in,” he stated as he backed away. He didn’t wait around for a response, which was good because she didn’t have one.

Her hand went back to the mouse and clicked on the shutdown button before the Instant Message screen popped back up with a small box indicating she would lose the conversation if she shut the system down. Her cursor seemed to move on its’ own to the icon that opened the screen once again. She typed quickly and hit send before she could stop herself.

A loud breath escaped her lungs before she clicked the shutdown button and the screen faded to black.

*****

A ping sounded, causing his eyes to shoot toward his laptop screen and away from the spreadsheets he was still trying to make sense of. For the briefest of moments, the words on the screen confused him. Up until he noticed who they were from.

A slight upturn of his mouth and a quickening pulse were the result of one name and two words. Maybe he was waiting for this. Scratch that, he
was
waiting for this and she didn’t disappoint.

Anne Bennett’s message to you:

I’m sorry.

*****

Her mouth hung open as she stared at her screen the next morning. A few minutes after she had logged in, a familiar ping caused her to jolt and her eyes fastened to the small box that appeared in the middle of her data sheet.

Ian McClellan’s message to you:

If you would think about what you were going to say before

you actually said it, you wouldn’t have to apologize so often.

Well, that certainly told her, didn’t it? Was he being serious? Was he joking?

What the hell?

She immediately clicked the X on the top right of the box, effectively closing the conversation box as her cheeks flamed.

Luckily, she was the only person in the office. The other employees would start to trickle in around 7am. She would take the opportunity to work in the lab and start compiling a list of the supplies she would need to begin her project. She would
not
dwell on Ian and his snarky message. 

She stood on somewhat weakened legs, blaming her jog from two nights ago. It had nothing to do with McClellan, she assured herself as she stepped around the desk and headed toward the lab.

*****

“Can you take a look at this?”

Anne’s eyes looked up from Ron’s notes to Carol’s face as she leaned her weight against the counter Anne was currently working at later that day.

“What is it?” she asked as Carol handed her a stapled bundle of papers.