“Okay, then, if you must go, let’s do the presentation now.” He went over to the gnome singing karaoke, and I made my way back to Owen.
The music stopped, and Hartwell spoke into the microphone. “As you all know, we’re here to welcome the latest member of our team, Miss Katie Chandler, our new marketing manager.” There was a round of enthusiastic applause. “Katie, why don’t you say a few words?”
With a helpless glance at Owen, I reluctantly stepped over and took the microphone. “Wow, um, I wasn’t expecting anything like this. Thank you for making me feel welcome, and I look forward to doing whatever I can to help you all be even more successful in your sales efforts. So, um, thanks.”
Before I could hand back the microphone and get away, music started up again. Voices from the crowd called out, “Sing for us!”
I shook my head. “Trust me, y’all really don’t want me to do that. I’d break your machine.” They didn’t relent at my warning. I glanced over at Owen, who stood leaning against the door frame, his arms crossed over his chest and a big smile on his face. I considered dragging him up there with me, since he actually had a very nice voice and, unlike me, could even find the tune, but putting him in front of people like that would lead to me having to do CPR, and that would spoil the party for everyone.
I looked around for the screen that had the words to the song, but I couldn’t see anything. It occurred to me that they were using illusion, which meant I couldn’t see it. I definitely didn’t know the song that was playing. In desperation, I said, “Let’s all sing together!” and pointed the microphone at the crowd. Several sales department extroverts stepped forward immediately to sing drunkenly into the microphone. I held the microphone for them and swayed to the music, acting like I was part of the group. By the time the chorus started, they’d taken the microphone from me and were enjoying the full spotlight. I slipped away, grabbing Owen on my way out of the conference room. The entire department kept singing.
We went back to my office to shut down my computer and get my bag, and then made it unnoticed past the conference room door on our way to the exit. “No wonder we’re losing market share to Spellworks, if that’s how they spend their time,” Owen said as we left the office building.
“I think this was a special occasion. It was nice of them to welcome me that way.”
He draped his arm across my shoulders and gave me a squeeze. “It’s not that I don’t think you’re special, because you know I do, but something tells me that bunch doesn’t need much of an excuse for a party. They probably throw a party like that when they open a new box of pencils.”
Deadpan, I said, “Yeah, that would be Pencilfest. I saw pictures in someone’s office.”
“Seriously?”
I nudged him in the ribs. “No. Just kidding. But I wouldn’t be surprised.”
“If it happens, call me. I have to see that for myself.” We went down the stairs into the subway station and separated to go through the turnstiles. Then he took my hand. For Owen, this was a lot of public affection. He must have really missed me.
Rod was already in the station, waiting on the crowded platform. He greeted us with a wave, and I couldn’t help but smile. All of us together at a rush-hour subway station was like old times. That was where I’d first seen Owen and Rod, before I met them. So much had changed since then.
“Nice lei,” Rod remarked with a grin.
I’d forgotten I still had it on. I pulled it off and shoved it into my bag. “Sales department party,” I explained.
“Are you excited about the new job?” he asked.
“Yeah, but why didn’t you clue me in? Surely you knew.”
“I didn’t know until a few minutes before that meeting—not long enough to give you any warning. You know what the boss is like. He lives in a different time stream from the rest of us.” Rod gestured toward my neck. “I meant to ask this morning, what happened to you? Those bruises look nasty.”
With a sigh, I tried to explain in a way that wouldn’t sound odd to any eavesdroppers. “Oh, just the competition in action, but this time I was an innocent bystander.”
He winced. “Yeah, there’s been more of that lately.” Then he said to Owen, “I wonder if anyone will try to fix sporting events.”
“You’ve tried to fix sporting events,” Owen reminded him.
“I’ve merely tried to give a friendly nudge or two to improve the accuracy of umpires,” Rod argued.