Breene, K F - Jessica Brodie Diaries 01 (6 page)

I dove toward my glove compartment
before I noticed the shadow. Something darkened the already murky places inside
my car. Which meant it was something at my window! Looming. Looking in!

I screamed and jumped at the same
time, hitting my head on the ceiling and my elbow on the “Oh Shit!” handle on
the door. I hastily reached for the lock before I realized that it wasn’t a
face looking in, it was a monster. A brown, fuzzy monster that smelt like ass.

Through my incredible skill of
detail orientation, I determined that it was a cow. Outside my door. In the
middle of the road. And it wasn’t looking in at all—I was looking at the things
belly, to be replaced by its butt, and then another massive bovine. In fact,
there were a bunch of cows all around my car.

Why were there cows outside my car?

I’m on the road, right?

Yes, on the road.

I craned my head to look behind me,
wondering how big the herd was, but my dumb seatbelt held me fast. My eyes
found the rear-view mirror in time to spy some spindly legs that could only be
horse. In
Texas
a day and already
I’m dealing with cow ass and horses. Talk about culture shock.

The long legs clomped closer,
giving me sudden apprehension. I was not particularly eager to meet John Wayne
in the middle of nowhere, with no one in screaming range, while blocked in by
massive animals.

"But how the hell am I going
to escape?" I thought dismally, watching cow butts slowly move down the
road.

Belatedly I realized that my window
was open this whole time. And why wouldn’t it be? I was in the middle of
nowhere, in the heat, with no air conditioning. Of course it was open. But now
the horse and rider knew I was afraid of sneaky cows. Which, in
Texas
,
might get me hanged as an outsider. A liberal outsider. Nail in the coffin!

Being that the horse stopped by the
side of the car, I stuck my head out the window, foot ready to hit the gas and
run these cows down if need be. The glare of the sun sparkling off the metal of
my car made visibility difficult. I could make out cowboy boots, jeans, the
shadow of a cowboy hat, the outline of the horse, and all the many cows still
walking by. If I wasn’t mistaken, this man was a cowboy.

Thank you, Watson, I’ll take my tea
now.

“Hi again,” said a familiar smooth,
deep baritone.

My heart skipped, then began
hammering in my chest. I could feel a thousand butterflies fill my stomach.
Also a cold chill that was surprisingly pleasant.

“H-h-hi. Hi,” I stammered lamely,
peering farther out the window and blocking the sun with my hand. The way the
sun cascaded around his shoulders made him appear holy. It gave the situation
an ethereal feeling, increasing my shivers.

“You are a ways from town. Didn’t
you say you lived with Gladis?”

He remembered!

“I do, yeah. I went for a drive and
kinda… lost my way.”

“I see. Do you have a map?”

“Yes. Well, maybe. I’m just not
sure if it is in the car or in the cottage.”

“In the cottage?” Was that humor in
his voice? “I wasn’t aware Gladis had a cottage.”

“Oh, well, pool house. We call it a
cottage.”

He gave a deep throated chuckle and
willed his horse forward a bit. “I am surprised the ol’ dame didn’t make you
move into the big house with her.”

“She likes having me in the house
as often as I’ll go, but the ad was for the cot—ah, pool house. She does like
to have someone to talk to.”

“Oh yes, she never tires of
company. Ever the entertainer.”

“Do you know her?”

“All of…the town knows her. She is
a funny old lady. Nice as pie. But funny all the same.”

Yup, he knew her.

“Any rate,” he began again, his
southern drawl kicking in a little more heavily. He was exceptionally well
spoken, which belied a top dollar education. However, his accent came and went,
always with a presence to some extent. I wondered if it was the effect of an
out-of-town school.

“You’ll want to be gettin’ home
here shortly. It’s getting dark.” His hat brim tilted up, his face still
obscured by the glare. He must’ve been surveying the sky and land around him.

“Right. Yeah, yes I do. Can you,
um, point me in a direction? Preferably the correct one?” I laughed at how
stupid I sounded.

He seemed to forget his
surroundings for a second as he bent down to peer in the car. Through the
orange haze, I could make out jet black hair peeping from under his cowboy hat,
and those bottomless eyes looking at me with humor. My head got a bit light.

“Can’t take a city girl away from
the buildings or you lose your way, huh?”

“Actually, yes. Exactly.” I really
did rarely get lost in the city. Out here, though, with all this space and no
ocean, it was a whole different world.

A browner one, for a start.

“Okay, you are pointed East... do
you want to write this down?”

I realized I had been staring up at
him, trying to get a glance at his eyes again. I jumped into action, grabbing
writing tools and listening for instructions. As he gave them, I let half my
mind wander, just listening to his voice, feeling the cool breeze of the night
float by, which was a relief in the humidity. I noticed the color of the sun
splashing across the sky as it set, hearing flies buzzing past the cows, and
the smell of poop. Just taking it all in with him in it.

On second thought, I could have
done without the poop smell.

He finished up and I put away the
pen and paper. The cows had all moved on down the road and into the pasture.

“Oh,” I said too loudly. Toning it
down quickly, I continued in a more subdued voice, “I wanted to give you money
for the groceries.”

I certainly did not sound like I
had a high-dollar education.

He chuckled. “‘Nite miss. See ya
again sometime.”

He tipped his hat the way they do
in westerns and his horse started moving off the road.

Oh...okay.

Something about him made me giddy.
I hadn’t felt this way since I was ten years old and Timmy McNewland kissed me
by the monkey bars. That time, giddy quickly turned to anger when he made a
face and said, “ech!” Stupid little boys.

“You Jessica?” Asked a slightly
high-pitched voice out of a stocky man in his late forties.

My new boss walked through the
spacious lobby of the office building, ignoring the receptionist bobbing her
head in answer to his question.

“Yes.” I stood up and surpassed his
height by about three inches. I was wearing heals but still, his parents didn’t
do him any favors. Hopefully he was at least smart or funny.

“Come this way.” He had a really
thick, slow drawl. From what I had heard so far, it didn’t sound Texan, but I
was no expert.

I flashed a smile at the
receptionist who gave me a thumbs up, then rolled her eyes at Mr. Nash, my new
boss. Not a good sign. Still, giving him the benefit of the doubt, we passed
into the building through a big archway with crown molding. The inside was a
deep tan, almost honey color. There were plants and wall decor that made this
place look like a client’s reception room in a lawyer’s office rather than a
low-level office floor.

What was it with me? I didn’t have
much--next to nothing, really--but everyone and everything around me seemed to
have money and an air of elegance or stateliness. I had a feeling I was being
set up by the cosmos for a big joke. A joke I wouldn’t find amusing.

“This here’s yer desk.” Mr. Nash
gave the cube an impatient sweep of his arm.

It was bigger than average, like
those around me, dark wood, which was actually hard plastic, with deep gray
cube walls. It had a phone from this decade, a MAC laptop (nice!), a ten key,
and shelving to hold personal as well as professional items.

There were also a ton of drawers.

“Right then. I’ll just take ya on
to the break room.”

He led me through a maze of deep
gray walls, expensive paintings and potted plants to a room with a large wood
table, three microwaves, water cooler, two refrigerators, and all the other
stuff an office break-room usually has.

Good first stop, I needed coffee.

“C’mon,” He squawked, heading away.

Geez. Give a gal a second.

We walked down a corridor to the
restrooms.

“The water closet for ladies is
here.” He shoved a tubby finger at the door with “Ladies Room” written on it. I
could have figured that one out, but said nothing.

“Right. You think ya got it?”

“Yup, got it. Thanks!” I smiled
jubilantly.

“Hphm. Well, Jenny’s gonna be
trainin’ you here shortly. I expect that’s all I need to show ya. Can ya find
yer way back?”

“I think I can handle it, yes.
Thank you.”

He looked at me like I had an eye
falling out of my head, and then turned his pot belly around and walked away.

Well…alright then.

I made my way back to the kitchen
for caffeinated fuel.

As I was pouring coffee into my
cup, someone walked in and stood behind me. I finished up by snagging a couple
packets of sugar, which were right next to the coffee machine. No powered
creamer. You would think a company this nice would have some freaking powered
creamer.

“You new?”

I glanced over my shoulder. He was
older than me, probably in his forties, with sandy blond hair and leathery
skin.

“Yeah,” I responded with a half
grin.

“Thought so. Everyone looks for the
creamer the first time around.” He gave a good-natured laugh. “It’s in the
fridge.”

“The fridge?”

“Yeah. It’s that big, white block
that stays cold, even in summer.” He nodded his head toward the far wall.

“Oohh, that’s what they call it!” I
laughed as I made my way, opened it up and real creamer! Like, the kind that
needs to be kept cold so it doesn’t spoil. So much better than the powdered
crap.

“Yeah, this company takes care of
us," he continued. "You work hard, hit your goals and all the rest,
and they keep you happy. And it seems to work for them, because even when the
economy takes a downturn this company still makes money. Never cheat the
farmers, either. They are straight up. Once someone is hired, they don’t quit
if they can help it, or do everything they can not to get fired. There are a
few idiots, but mostly people stay here for a long time.”

Was I dreaming? I landed a good job
right after college. Maybe it had something to do with being over-qualified and
willing to go to the bible belt from a liberal oasis. Who cares? Hopefully I
could work my way up here.

“Where you from?” he asked as he
filled his cup.

“
L.A.
”

“Oh whoa, a
California
girl, eh? Hot dang. Why would you want to leave
California
?
Everyone here wants to get out to
Cali
--isn’t
that what you call it?
Cali
?”

Bit of a chatter, this one.

“Once upon a time that was the ‘in’
name, yeah. A little passé now.” I threw him my winning smile to tell him I was
being an ass on purpose.

He responded with a slack face.
Maybe my ‘winning’ smile was a
California
thing. It didn’t seem to work in
Texas
.
Maybe a toothy grin was a better way to go.

I had to work on it.

He blinked, a dreamy smile creeping
up his face. Then he started laughing. I edged from the room.

“Oh right, passé!” he exclaimed.
“Ha ha. Yeah, I am just a country kid, what do I know about the land of movie
stars? Ha ha. Well, I am from
Austin
.
The city, you know. But we are still country kids at heart!”

“Anyway,” I said, “I should get
back. I have to get settled then start training.”

“Oh sure, yeah. What are you doing,
anyway?”

“Some sort of Accounting. Entry
level, but I just finished college so I took what I could get!”

“Oh yeah. Got to! Fer sure, right?
Fer sure, doood!
California
!
Surfer girls! Ha ha. Anyway, see ya ‘round alright? Ha ha ha ha!” He was
shaking his head as I moved away.

What did they put in the coffee
here?

Back at my computer, I setup my
email with the post-it noting my sign-on, then looked around. I could hear some
phone conversations and see a tall, tree-like plant in front of a robust woman
across the cube from me. She was putting something away at the back of her
cube; otherwise I would only see her in profile.

She had some crazy large hair. It
was a teased, dyed blond mass on the top of her head, held there with lots of
Aqua-net. Her outdated pant-suit squeezed overly large br**sts until they were
trying to bust out the top. It wasn’t doing wonders for her waist, either. She
looked like a homemade sausage, all lumpy in weird places.

Unfortunately, it was at the time I
noticed her boobs that she noticed me looking at them. Perfect timing, as
always.

“You the new girl?” she asked with
attitude and a thick accent.

“Yes. I’m Jessica. I just finished
setting up--”

“You don’t gotta bother explaining
what it is you ain’t doin’.” she interrupted. “Like workin’. Who is supposed to
be showin’ you what’s what?”

“Um, Jenny? I’m not sure. I was
just told this was my cube.”

“Well, if I wauz you, I would find
myself someone to show me my job, and stop gawkin’ like you wauz as nervous as
a ling tailed cat in a room fulla rockin’ chairs!”

She turned around in a huff,
slammed the drawer that was opened, got into her suddenly burdened chair, and
turned toward her computer. She was now mostly out of sight behind the fake,
leafy plant.

Je-sus!

Sorry to take your name in vein,
Lord, because I am sure you hear me louder here than in
L.A.
,
but seriously! What. A. Bitch!

I was still staring in shocked
silence when a head popped into view. It was a girl about my age, maybe a
little younger, with long, straight brown hair, freckles, and large, almond
shaped eyes. Her prettiness was diminished slightly by too much foundation
make-up.

“Hi!” she said in a high, almost
child-like voice. It wasn’t unpleasant, and I could think of a handful of girls
in
L.A.
that would love that voice
attached to their “dumb-blond” image. This girl wasn’t going for that look,
thank God, and it made her cuter.

“Hello,” I replied, careful not to
say too much in case she turned into a clone of my cube neighbor.

Speaking of my delightful cube
neighbor, her face peeped at us through the plant. I quickly focused more
intently on this new girl so as not to get a repeat of the tongue lashing.

“I am going to train you. Not
fully, of course, ‘cause you are slightly senior in your duties to mine—because
you are a college grad. Yay! Congrats!”

“Oh. Thanks. This is my first adult
job.” My face got hot.

“Yeah, it’s my first job, too. Real
job I mean, like you. I did some Dairy Queen cashier stuff, and was a bank
teller before this, which got me this job. But overall this is my first
well-paying job. I haven’t gone to college, though. I don’t really want to,
either. I’m not that good at school, so I figure I’ll just work my way up in
the work world. It takes longer that way ‘cause you have to start lower, but it
sure beats school! Well, you probably don’t agree because you went to school
and made it through, but that is my outlook anyway.” She had a big smile and
giggled a little.

So, a talker then. That was as well
because generally I made a better listener. She was a bit ditzy, too, but not
in a bad way. Overall, I liked her. I hoped we got along so I had a friend.

Something occurred to me. “You
don’t have an accent.”

“Oh well, no. I was city born in
Houston
.
Lived in the city all my life, and there are lots of people without accents
there. Grow up with
Hollywood
movies and TV and all
that, it’s easy to escape the southern drawl! I slip into it sometimes. Mostly
when I drink.” She lowered her voice at the last sentence and winked at me.

Mental note: Drinking might not be
as accepted here as in
L.A.
Must be
careful not to make an ass of myself right off.

Easier said than done.

“Anyway,” she went on, “I am
Candace.”

Apparently Mr. Nash wasn’t great
with names…

“Jessica. Or Jess if you want.”

“Oh! I thought you were Jenny. Mr.
Nash must have got it wrong!” She frowned.

Or maybe he called everyone Jenny?

“My sister is named Jessica! We
call her Jess, though, so if you don’t mind I might just call you Jessica so
you are cemented as a different person in my mind.” She giggled in a good
natured way.

“Will you two girls shut up?!” my
neighbor roared.

Candace rolled her eyes and turned
toward the angry hornet. “Juniper, why can’t you just be nice for once? Or at
least quiet? I’m going to be training Jessica so I’ll be over here pretty
often.”

“You trainin’? That’s gonna go over
like a fart in an elevator!”

“Real nice, Juniper." Candace
replied in sarcastic tones. "Do I have to get Mr. Nash involved again?”

I heard a “Hmph!” and rustling
paper. Apparently Mr. Nash was the winning threat.

Candace turned back to me with a
sober look as she shook her head. “Anyway, let’s get you started before someone
is tempted to eavesdrop.”

Paper shuffled with vigor across
the way.

“John Paul will be here soon to set
up your email.”

“Oh, I already did that. Someone
set up my user ID and I got it started on the computer. Really nice computers
by the way!”

“Oh yeah, they really take care of
the employees here. They believe that a happy employee is a long lasting
employee, which has something to do with staying longer and helping the
business, or something.”

“Employee retention. Apparently
it’s cheaper to keep the current employees than train new ones. And it’s great
for knowledge retention and work flow, which helps the business prosper. So
they teach, anyway.”

Candace blinked a couple times.
“See, that is why you got the better job. College.” She nodded like the tiny
bit I actually picked up in five years was a fountain of knowledge. This is
what Jane must always feel like.

“Really advanced that you set up
email, though.” she began again. “I still don’t know how to do that. Okay,
let’s get--”

Another head popped into the cube,
cutting her off.

“Hey girls. I’m here for the
computer set-up.” He must have been in his early twenties. If he had hit
twenty. Average looking, sandy, short-cropped hair, brown eyes, and a nice set
of shoulders. He didn’t look like he worked out, but he had the natural build
that most gym men would kill for.

“Hey John Paul. This is Jessica.”

He smiled. “Hi Jess.”

“Hi John Paul.”

He moved as if to come in, but
Candace stopped him. “She set up her email and signed on already. She even put
on a background pic! She went to college.”

As if basic computer skills were a
mark of a truly gifted mind. Jane must truly love her life.

“Wow. That is really excellent
Jessica!" John Paul nodded in approval. "You can probably handle a
lot of the simpler things as well. That will really help me out. Though you’ll
have to call every once in a while so I feel needed.”

Smitten by young, heart-felt male.

He popped out and Candace filled
the void. “He’s really very nice. Cute, too!” She giggled. I had a feeling I’d
need to get used to giggling. “Off the market, though.”

“Oh? Is he g*y, then?”

“Gay? Oh my Lord, no! He just got
married! Too bad.”

“Really? He seems a little young.”

“He’s nineteen, I think.”

“Married?! At nineteen?”