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During my annual review, I once met with a manager who put her two-year-old child down for a nap.
She whispered my feedback to me between verses of Star Light and Star Bright. And then, she had the nerve to ask me if I might sing the next lullaby with her. “I just think if we both sing, little James will feel more comfortable.”
I’ve had coworkers accept pizza deliveries during meetings.
Chat with landscape crews.
I once had to sit through an entire virtual meeting peppered with snoring sounds. Devina was on an airplane, and the man beside her was seated so close that I could make out the pattern on his sleep mask. He snorted, drooled, and even talked in his sleep now and then.
Of all the awkwardness I’ve experienced, this has to be the worst.
Jack’s face is washed in bright sunshine. Beside him, I see a tanned midriff and narrow hips clad in low-rise cutoff jeans. The woman—whoever she is—has an intricate tattoo of a motorcycle that’s only half visible over the frayed waistline of her shorts.
Who is she?
Jack’s Wi-Fi is spotty. His screen keeps freezing, and his voice is disconnected from the video's movement.
“—a work call, and it’s important,” his disembodied voice says.
Then he cuts out again, but the video progresses. His mouth moves, no sound. He’s talking to the woman next to him.
The video freezes, but his voice is audible. “No, not a live video for fans, Jess, this is?—”
Wait… Jess?
Did he just say, Jess?
He’s hanging out with his ex?!
The lawyer on the call with us, Raymond Martinez, shifts in his seat. He’s rotund, with a buzz-cut halo of black hair around his bald patch. He fidgets impatiently as Jack’s screen jolts and jags, the sound catching up to the video feed and then lagging again.
Of course, Raymond is impatient. We have a mere sixty minutes for this call, and Jack and I are supposed to give him information he can use for our case.
“I think his connection must be weak,” I say to Raymond. And Jack might be a little distracted out there in Utah.
Distracted by a woman…
Specifically, his ex-girlfriend. Who happens to be gorgeous.
This is not how I wanted this call to go.
Finally, Jack’s spoken words and the movement of his mouth line up. “Sorry, guys,” he says to the camera, “I’m out in public, had to charge up. Busy scene here.”
Raymond coughs into his fist. “Ah hem. Okay. Well!” He grips the armrests of his seat and readjusts his position so his spine’s straight. I can tell he wants to steer the conversation, but he’s unsure how. “Well, as long as we’re all here?—”
Jess’ face appears next to Jack’s. She waves. “Hello, everyone!”
This is a nightmare.
I hold back a groan.
“Jess, can you give me some room?” Jack asks.
Jess squeezes in closer to him and peers at the screen.
“Sorry!” she quips before turning to him. “I totally wish you were saying ‘hey’ to your fans! They must miss me. Okay, boring old work. I’ll let you get to it. What is your job these days, anyway? Did you ever hear back from that guy about the talk show?”
Jack peers into the screen. “Hazel? Can you give me a sec—like one quick?—”
