I seriously thought my mom would just go ahead and fire him that second. He was late. Clearly inept. And still yanking. Instead she said, “Was everyone okay?”
“Looked like it. Airbag deployed, though, and there was an ambulance.” Finally back where he’d begun at the table, he settled into his chair, then pulled a hand through his mussed-up hair. That one curl tumbled, and a piece of pink boa, stringy and wavering, rose up above him. No one else seemed to notice. “I could have garnered more detail, but it was important to me that I be on time.”
I rolled my eyes. “You weren’t, though.”
“Well, we’re all here now, so let’s get started,” my mother said. “Ambrose, first thing each morning we go over that day’s schedule. You’ll find it on that wall. Louna, give him a pad for notes, would you?”
After the tape dispenser incident, I had my reservations about trusting him with any office supplies. But I did as I was told, reaching across the table to pick up one of the yellow legal pads stacked there, along with a black pen from the nearby cup. When I pushed it over to Ambrose, he looked delighted, centering it in front of him, and uncapping the pen. I watched as he wrote his name at the top, like he was about to take a spelling test in third grade, followed by a number one with a dot.
“All of our upcoming events and tasks will be listed here,” my mom said, gesturing to the whiteboard behind her, which was divided into two sections. On one side was a calendar of that month, with all of our events represented in William’s block print. The other was the current week, with more detailed listings of every meeting, task, and errand that needed completing. I was grateful to see KIRBY’S listed right at the top of that day, Friday, which meant a two-hour car ride by myself nursing what I was pretty sure was my first hangover.
1. WHITEBOARD IS SCHEDULE, Ambrose wrote. The pen was squeaking.
“As you can see,” my mom continued, “our next event is the Charlotte McDonald Wedding. We’ll be overseeing the rehearsal dinner tonight at the Lakeview Armory. Tomorrow we’ll have what we call a double hander, which means a church ceremony followed by a reception at another location.”
2. TWO HANDS THIS WEEKEND, Ambrose added to his list.
“You’ll see the locations are abbreviated next to the schedule,” William said. “VB and BH: Village Baptist and Barn Hill.”
3. CODES ARE INVOLVED.
Why was I reading this? I made a point of looking away.
“As you can see,” my mom was saying, “William and I have three meetings today, and there is a lot to be done out of the office, most importantly the pickup of flowers. I’ll expect you and Louna to get that done first, and follow up with the rest of the errands.”
“Wait, what?” I said. “We don’t both have to go to Kirby’s. That’s a one-person job.”
“It’s Ambrose’s first day. He’s shadowing you, learning the ropes.”
The pen squeaked again. I couldn’t help myself: I looked.
4. I’M A SHADOW!
“I don’t need help.” I pointed to the board. “Look, it says right there that programs need to be folded and place cards organized. That’s all inside work you guys can oversee from your meetings.”
“I think it’s better if he goes along for the flowers,” she said. “You can’t be sure when you’ll need an extra hand.”
“Never,” I said. “That’s when. I never have. Ever.”
William, fingers tented beneath his chin, looked amused. Ambrose said, “You guys, Louna’s not my number one fan. Although I thought that might have changed, after last night.”
William raised his eyebrows. I heard my mom’s chair creak as she turned to look at me, saying, “Last night?”
“Well, this sounds interesting,” William said.
“It’s not,” I assured him. “And it has nothing to do with work, which is what I thought we were supposed to be talking about.”
“This girl, she’s all business,” Ambrose said. “That’s what I love about her. Short version is I saved her from a jugheaded groper.”
“A grouper?” William asked. “Like the fish?”
“Groper. As in, one who gropes. Was groping. Has groped.” Ambrose clicked his pen open, then shut, punctuating this conjugation. “It was on the dance floor, at this party.”
“You were dancing?” William asked. From his expression, you would have thought Ambrose had said I’d stripped naked as well. “At a party?”
“Why is that so shocking?” I demanded.
He looked at my mom, and they both burst out laughing. Ambrose clicked his pen open again.
5. LOUNA DOESN’T GET OUT MUCH.
“I’m going to Kirby’s,” I announced, pushing out my chair with a bit too much force; now I had to grab the table to keep from rolling away. “I’ll call on my way back for the lunch order.”
With this, I collected my purse and walked out of the conference room, making it clear decisions Had Been Made. And I really did feel that way, all the way to the front door of the office. Then my mother called my name.
I turned back to see her standing by the reception area. Her voice was low, confidential, as she came closer, then said, “I need you to take Ambrose with you.”
“Why?”
“Because we have a very high-strung bride coming in here in five minutes, followed by a potential client whose wedding could make us a lot of money. We won’t be able to supervise and can’t risk another tape explosion.”
“I don’t understand why you hired him,” I said.
“Because his mother asked me to and swore he could actually be a good worker if directed appropriately.” I made a face, conveying my doubt about this. “Other than me and William, you’re the best director I know.”
“Don’t kiss up to me. It’s embarrassing.”
She smiled. “You know, you might find you actually enjoy having company.”
“I don’t dislike people,” I said. “I’m just not fond of him.”
This was an important distinction, I felt. But she barely seemed to hear me, already turning to call his name as she gestured for him to join us. He brought the pen and pad with him. Of course.
“They’re expecting you by ten sharp,” she told me, handing over her copy of the invoice. “Make sure you get everything.”
I took the paper from her, not answering, and turned back to the door. Before I could push it open, though, he reached around and did it for me. “After you.”
My first thought was to just stop in my tracks, right where I was. The next was how petulant I was acting, like a child. Strange how you could barely know a person and they were still able to bring out the worst in you. I took a breath, nodded at him, then stepped through the door. Up close, I saw there was another tiny pink boa feather in his hair.
He would not. Stop. Touching. Everything.