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Two hours later and things had gone from bad to worse. While his key employees had all shown up eventually, their arrival had only brought one piece of bad news after another until Elijah’s head throbbed.
“Hey, can you pass over the first-aid kit?” he asked Madison who was sitting at Tyler’s desk in the office.
“You hurt yourself?” she asked, concern showing in her wrinkled brow.
“Only with bad news. I have a headache.”
“Like, you need to chill out. Everything will turn out fine. It always does.”
Opening the newest email to hit his inbox, Elijah wasn’t so sure. “Dominic just quit.”
“Dominic? Who’s… Oh, the guy that dresses like Jack Sparrow?” Madison asked in a tone much too lively to suit him.
“Yes, Dominic who runs our costume department. The guy who is a mission critical member of the team for Roulette. And does he give two weeks’ notice? No! The asshole is leaving for another gig on Friday. Zero notice. Fuck my life.”
“Hey, at least you have his assistant, Annie. I’m sure she can handle it.“
“We’re gonna have fifteen couples. That’s the potential for forty-five wardrobe or costume needs in a fucking three-hour period. Annie can’t handle half of that on her own.”
“So… you have tons of connections in town. I’m sure you can get another costume design person from one of the studios to help out.”
“In less than two weeks? On Valentine’s Day? That passes all of the background checks?” Elijah’s voice got louder with each question until he ended on a shout that made his head pound harder.
Madison tried to placate him. “Fine, let me make some calls. I’ll sort it out, but…”
Elijah used the last swig of his now-warm soda to down two pain killers before pinning Madison with his best glare.
“But what?”
“I don’t want to tell you unless you promise to stay calm.”
“How about I promise not to throttle you?”
“I guess that could work. It’s just…”
“Spit it out.”
“The commemorative glasses we ordered are on backorder. They may not get here in time.” When Elijah stood frozen, taking in the bad news, she added a happy, “If it makes you feel any better, the ones for Runway are late too.”
“Where. Did. You. Order. From?” he ground out. He’d warned her. She better not say….
“I know you told me not to, but like the price difference was just too great.” She paused, stopping short until his dominant glare spurred her to add, “I ordered from the company in China.”
“Madison!”
The petite Runway manager jumped, apologizing. “I’m sorry! I’ve used this distributor many times. I’ve never had any problems before. I don’t know what went wrong.”
“I went wrong. The universe doesn’t want me to beat Cook this year. That’s the only explanation for all the bullshit going wrong at the same time around here.”
Susie, his head bartender, had arrived, but hadn’t noticed until she plunked a tall amber liquid in front of him.
“Drink. You need it,” she grumbled.
Tyler added, “Yeah, think of it as medicine. If not for you, for the rest of us.”
“Ha, ha. I don’t need booze. I need…”
As one, the rest of the employees added in unison, “To beat Black Light East.”
