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“What?” Charlotte spins around and stares at her. Right at that moment, crumbs of ceiling debris drift down and land on her head.
“I’m so sorry,” Priya says. “I told them it was urgent and we need them sooner. He said everyone says their case is urgent, everyone needs them sooner, and they’ll be here next week.”
Charlotte looks up, dusts off her hair, and steps away from the hole above her. “We can’t have drywall crumbling on people’s heads during the launch on Monday.”
“That would piss off Netto to no end.” I bend forward to stretch out my back. The cab ride undid a little of the good work Charlotte had done. “And that could be the end of us.”
The future of this place and all the other First Byte locations we want to open around the country is dependent on the Netto partnership.
Charlotte stalks around the room, her eyes everywhere, taking it all in. It might not be obvious to everyone, but I can see her mind spinning at the same speed as mine trying to figure out how to solve the problem.
“The only consolation,” I offer, “is that I was late getting my order to Netto, so at least none of their equipment had arrived. If that had been here, it would have been wrecked.”
Charlotte stops her exploration. “So they don’t know this has happened, right?”
“Nope.” I straighten and meet her determined eyes with mine.
“Have they seen the design plans?”
“Nope.” I lean on the back of a chair and slowly shift my weight from one foot to the other. “They wanted to know the location we’d chosen and see pictures of the outside and inside before we started, so they know where it is going to be and what the size of the space is. But as long as their name is plastered in some prominent locations and we’ve incorporated some of their blue brand color, they left the design up to us.”
“All right.” Charlotte nods and sucks in her cheeks as she looks around the room again, eventually stopping on Priya. “You just finished college, right?”
“Yes. My master’s in computer science. I’ve always wanted to teach, though. And do good in other ways too, so this is the perfect spot for me.” She turns to me. “Your idea for this place is amazing. It could change lives, you kno?—”
“It’s okay,” Charlotte snips. “We’re not interviewing you again. You have the job. And none of this is your fault. But we have to move fast, and I’m going to need you to help.”
“Of course. Of course. Whatever you want. I believe in this project so mu?—”
Charlotte waves at her.
“What are you thinking?” I ask, a little disappointed she seems to have beaten me to a solution. I can’t remember the last time anyone did that.
“A lot. I’m thinking a lot. Because a lot needs to be done. Or this whole thing is fucked.”
She pulls out her phone. “Priya, is there somewhere dry in the back office where Elliot could sit down for a bit?”
“Yes,” she says. “The flood only affected the kids’ area out here. The staff and volunteer space in the back is fine.”
“Great.” Charlotte taps away at her phone. “Could you take him back there? And maybe get him a coffee. I need to make some calls.”
She might be giving everyone short shrift because she’s focused on the immediate catastrophe, but it gives me a warm lift that she can still find it in her to care about my welfare.
“I’m not going to put my feet up while you do this.” I tell her. “Solutions are my thing.”
“You can’t fix this with a screen and a mouse.” She makes a sweeping gesture to the whole room. “And I need you physically fit for other things. So go rest.”
The firmness of her tone is remarkably arousing.
“I’ve never not been the boss in the room before,” I tell her. “Well, not unless Max is there.”
Charlotte taps her phone, puts it to her ear, and raises her eyebrows at me. “You’ve never worked with me before, have you?”
Coming back here, to the office-slash-kitchen area, and sitting in a firm chair for a while might have gone against all my instincts to knuckle down and sort things out, but Charlotte was right—it has eased my back. The time spent looking after her brother obviously gave her a bunch of knowledge, not to mention skills with her hands, I never knew about.
I defy her order for me not to make calls, however. There is no way in hell I’ll sit here surrounded by all this washed-away work, listening to the sound of the giant ticking clock of doom, and do nothing.
The first call I make is to our HR person who’s in charge of arranging staff time off for volunteer work. If she knows of anyone on our team who has construction skills, maybe we can release them from their work duties and bring them out here. But apparently Charlotte’s already called her.
