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There were people like Jason, who came every time. He sat in the back and smiled at each and every person who came by. He came because he wanted people to see him and because the first time he’d come, at least five people walked up to him and told him about a building problem they had that they hadn’t reported before.
The heads of all the divisions always attended and—from what he could tell—they came for the same reasons that he came, to see, be seen, and look casually approachable to people who had problems they didn’t feel comfortable making a formal report about.
Sometimes, when there was an open position, he could tell who was jockeying for it. And there was always a cohort of people from one division attending the meeting in a chattering, worried clump.
“Hey,” a soft voice said as a body slid into the seat next to him.
He turned. “Hey,” he said to Marsie, who, as far as he knew, hadn’t ever come to one of these things. He’d heard once that she hadn’t even come when she was new to the company and trying to figure out the rules.
Like all things with Marsie, there were both critical and generous judgments about why. And, like all things with Marsie, the truth about why she never came was probably both simpler and more complicated—and even the people who thought they were being generous were way off base to the critical side.
“What are you doing here?”
She shifted in her seat, revealing the white piping around a pocket on her hip. He couldn’t tell if she was wearing a dress that looked like a skirt and short jacket or a short jacket and skirt that looked like a dress, but it was navy with white piping, had a slight sailor collar and a fat belt, and she looked cute.
“I was talking with Roberto in the hall.” She sighed. “I’d forgotten about this meeting. He started walking. I followed because we were talking about the grant application and I wanted to hear what he had to say. Then we popped through the conference-room doors and I remembered. It was too late then to back out and watch this on my computer.”
Jason snorted at how put out she sounded.
“Hey, now,” she said, her indignation clearly faked. “I was tricked into coming.”
“Yes, and it’s tragic,” he said, faking his sympathy in return.
Even though she was trying to hide it, she smiled. “Well, I’m here. There are a couple people I need to talk to. Maybe I’ll catch them afterward.”
“Like me, so you can tell me about your date.”
Her head whipped around. And he smiled when she looked left and right, to check if anyone had heard. “I’m not going to talk about that now. Not here. There are too many people listening.”
He raised his brows at her. Then he leaned forward, exaggerating the way he looked around and examined people to see if they had heard. “Nah, no one is paying attention.”
Only when he was sitting back up straight did something else occur to him. “We’ve talked about your dating in the cafeteria. How was that less public?”
“There was all that ambient noise and it’s the cafeteria, so…” She trailed off, her back stiffening. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Okay,” he said, backing off. “Clearly it matters to you, so we don’t have to talk about your date here. Besides, we made dinner plans to talk about dating. I’ll save my questions until then.”
His easy response seemed to deflate her indignation. “Thanks. And I’m sorry about being so uptight about this. That conversation with Roberto was…annoying. Even more annoying that I feel tricked into being here. I hate these things.”
“Really? Why? I mean, you’ve been mentioned several years in a row for your excellent work.” Every year, even though he knew she wouldn’t be here, he looked around for her after her name was mentioned. And he usually went up to her office to congratulate her after.
“Yeah. And I hate that. I really hate all the people coming up to me after. I can never tell if people are sincere.”
“Why would people not be sincere?”
She shrugged. “It’s probably nothing here, but in college and graduate school a lot of the ‘Good job’ comments were laced with poison, like I didn’t deserve the journal article or conference presentation.”
