Kimber Chin

“F**k James, why don’t you have a fax machine?” Two months later, a familiar voice barked in her ear.

“I spent my money on textbooks and booze.” It was easier to come up with snappy comebacks over the phone.

“F**k you. I need you to come to the city this weekend,” Stevie demanded.

“T…t…this weekend?” Anne thought of her economics project coming due.

“That jackaSS wants to get married and I figured, what the f**k, lets get it over with.”

“Married?” Anne beamed. He actually pulled it off. Eric was going to marry Stevie.

“What the hell, James, you lose your f**king brains? That’s what I said. He thinks us being married will help with transition or some sh**. Anyway, I expect you at the City Hall at one o’clock. Oh, and bring a f**king bouquet. That jacka$$ wants me to have one.”

The phone clicked.

A bouquet? What did she know about wedding bouquets? But… yes, that’s right, Nance had been busy studying the bridal mags, dreaming of her big day. She would scout one out happily. Practice.

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“We’re going to turn him down.” Eric reached over and stole a forkful of Anne’s chocolate cream pie. “We’ll tell him on Monday.” Monday, she’d be back in school. Had they done that on purpose? Anne studied Stevie’s grim face.

“F**k off, James.”

That was self consciousness talking. They had. Anne smiled. “Thank you.”

“F**k…”

“You’re welcome,” Eric broke in, giving Stevie’s hand a squeeze. “It was the least we could do. For all your help this summer and for…” He waved his hand between the two of them.

“You’re okay, James.” Grudging admiration from Stevie. “If you don’t f**k up somehow, you’ll go far.”

“So you’ll give me a reference?” Mr. Michaels said he would but after Monday…

Stevie opened her mouth but Eric interrupted. “I’ll give you a reference. Any firm would be lucky to hire you.”

“You’re f**king wasted working for someone else. Don’t waste the time.”

“Like you did?” Eric raised an eyebrow, his eyes sparkling.

“Jacka$$. I’m talking about f**king James.”

“Right.” A laugh.

Anne felt a twinge of sadness. She’d miss these two. Not that she’d say anything, Stevie would go bezerk over that.

Or maybe she wouldn’t because the next words out of Stevie’s mouth were “And if you want a f**king reference, you better f**king stay in touch. No d**n disappearing act.”

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They had been in the boardroom for two hours. Anne, seated at her nearby desk, was too nervous to get any work done. Would she have a boss when it was done? Would they both be walked out? Would she have a job for the remaining two weeks of the summer? She needed the money for school.

The yelling had stopped. Was that a good sign? Or was everyone dead?

Anne sharpened her pencil for the thousandth time. There wasn’t much of a pencil left.

Finally the door opened and Mr. Michaels stormed out, his face red, his tie loosened. “It’s all your fault.” He gave Anne a bone cutting glare. “I knew you two were too much alike.”

Great. There goes her reference.

Stevie was the next to surface, her cheeks flushed. “F**k” was all she had to say.

“Exactly.” Even Eric’s perpetual grin was tired. “Lots to think about.”

To think about? “So?” They weren’t quitting?

“Counteroffer, James, always expect the counteroffer.” Eric sat on the corner of her desk.

“F**k” came from Stevie.

“Gotta think about it.” Eric somehow had the ability to translate Stevie’s one word answers. “Only prudent, only polite.”

“F**k.”

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