War of the Roses

Scene Three

Click. Click. Click. She clicks the pen nervously while watching me. I sigh dropping my head toward the old keyboard on the plain wood desk. "Are you sure you want me to look at your spreadsheet?"

She clicks the pen faster while nodding her head. "Better to come from you than him." She jerks her curly head towards our bosses door. A placard that reads Manager hangs on the closed door. He had closed the door almost an hour ago for his daily yoga, he could come out any minute.

I'm pretty sure the temp agent that had assigned me this day job seriously disliked me. This has been the most stressful office I've worked in so far. Yet somehow I've made it here for the last several months.

"These are a mess though Nevé. It's going to take the better part of an hour to fix."

Nevé lets out a groan hiding her face behind manicured nails while simultaneously clicking the pen. "I'm going to get fired. I'm going to have to start all over again. He's going to blacklist me, I'll have to find a whole new industry. Do you think he's into brunettes? That got me out of so many mess ups at my last job." She moves the pen to her forehead using that to click it open and closed while creating tiny, angry impressions in her forehead.

A paperclip flies by me and Nevé missing both of us entirely. Another paperclip follows sailing over the computer. I look over my shoulder to see Gretta glaring at us from her desk getting ready to chuck more paperclips like they're ninja stars. Her plain brown hair is pulled back into a tight bun, several grey hairs sneakily peaking out. "Stop. Clicking. The pen. Andi fix whatever she messed up so she'll stop making that infernal noise or sleeping with that prum."

"She's nervous, she has a right to be. Scott has blacklisted people over less than this." Mattias chimes in across from Gretta. He flips his hand out buoyantly. "In fact, I once heard he had someones grandma tossed out of the building because she took too long to get in and out of the elevator and made him late for a meeting. Turned out she was the person he was meeting with. Oh and, you're out of luck. He's into jets not brunettes. He's got a thing for asians." I roll my eyes but Nevé eats it up while Gretta harrumphs at her desk, satisfied the clicking has stopped.

"Nevé how about this." I break in before he can say anything else. "These are a mess but if we tag team it we can probably fix it before he comes out. I'll show you how to fix one or two of the functions you did wrong then we'll take opposite ends of the spreadsheet and meet in the middle." She nods in agreement.

We're only a few keystrokes away from finishing it when his door opens. I roll my chair as fast as I can over to my desk busily shuffling papers so he doesn't see anything out of the ordinary. To her credit Nevé stays glued to the screen giving nothing away as her eyes frantically scan the sheet, trying to figure out the last piece. Shawn slowly circles the bull pen looking over people's shoulders without even trying to hide his staring. Nonchalantly I send Nevé a slack with the last formula, continuing to shuffle papers and put things away to look busy. Her computer sends out a loud ding drawing everyone's eyes to her and her computer. Shawn switches course heading for her desk. With a few deft keystrokes though she copies the information, deletes the slack and pastes it into the spreadsheet. Right as he arrives.

The tension is oppressive. And Jen wonders why I'd prefer to hold a metal pole on set during a lightning storm.

"Andi." Scott barks. I can feel my back straighten up at the sudden attention. "It's 12:15. You're late for your lunch break." I nod sliding out of my chair, scooting past him to the break room grateful to be out of the thick of things.

Everything here is the color of a potato's imagination. I stare at the walls, ceiling, floor, kitchen. How is it that everything in here manages to be the same exact shade all around? It's the same shade as that producers shoes that I threw shade at for being pushy. Maybe Gregs right. Maybe I need to schmooze more. My stomach knots at the thought. Alicia slides into the chair across from me fiddling with her engagement ring. "Hi Andi."

"Oh, hey Alicia." I respond.

We sit in silence for a moment before she opens her mouth but then closes it. She keeps fiddling with her ring creating a slight squeaking noise as it rubs across her finger.

"Alicia, out with it. What do you need?"

"Well since you brought it up, I, um. I'd like your advice on something." She plunges in.

"You do? Why?" I ask, kinda surprised.

"Uhmm, well. I know you'll tell me the truth, even if it makes me hate you."

"No pressure then." I joke.

"This is actually really serious Andi. I. I'm having second thoughts. And I don't know if it's pre-wedding jitters or just something that's sorta serious. And how could it be pre-wedding jitters if I just got engaged. It's not like the wedding is anytime soon. I just. I don't know." She rambles.

"Why? What happened with Brady?" I ask.

"He wants everything green! I look horrible in green. Everything about green is so gross and he's gotten to the point where he's getting really insistent. He even bought wedding invites that are green when I told him specifically I wanted fuschia." She cries.

"Oh. I thought you were going to say something different. Something that was really serious." I say hesitantly.

"But this is serious! He's not respecting me, he's just going full on with what he wants this wedding to look like. And it's not just the wedding, it's other things. He buys whole milk instead of skim when he knows whole milk makes me congested. He threw a party at our place and guess what he served." She goes on.

"Uhhmm, chips?" I guess.

"Chips! But not just any chips, he served Ruffles instead of Lays..." She sounds like she's on the verge of crying. Man, love makes people absolutely bonkers. That or the stress of planning a wedding. On second thought it's definitely both.

"Well...have you talked to him about it? Have you told him the way you feel about, those things and that you don't feel heard?" I ask.

"Of course!" She fidgets with her ring. "Well, kinda. We sort of talked about it." She hesitates.

"Here's the thing Alicia. You have to be direct with him about what's going on." I suggest.

She stares at the table for a moment. "But I did tell him once. I shouldn't have to tell him again, he should just know."

"We'll get to the second part of that in a minute. But did you tell him directly or did you hint at it?" I ask.

She opens her mouth to answer but stops. I pick up where she can't. "Here's the thing. You two are getting married, there are things you need to work through. If you're not willing to work through it than you need to end things. It's that or talk about the potato chips."

This shocks her out of her hesitancy. "What?! No way. I'm not going to just dump my fiance over some potato chips! I--Oh..."

I smile as it sinks in for her. "Just sit down with him and have a completely direct, honest conversation about everything, the chips, the milk, the green." I suggest.

"Maybe just the chips." She murmurs to herself as she gets up. She walks away without another word deep in thought.

"So, am I still invited to the wedding?" I call out after her.

Alicias got a point. There are some pretty big things at play. Will she and Brady make it? Will they keep the love they've found? And in the end, is it Ruffles or Lays?