Vice

16: Fired

Natara draws in a deep breath as she stares at the towering Vicetech building. With bright blue skies overhead and sunlight beaming down, she does her best to channel her confidence.

Nothing's going to stop her today. She got over the biggest hurdle - getting a job in the first place - and from here all she has to do is keep that job. It can't be more difficult keeping a job than it is getting one. 

She ties her bike to a post by the side of the building and makes her way through the sliding glass doors into the reception room. At the front desk, the same lip glossed woman from yesterday raises her eyebrows at Natara. She crosses her arms over her pink button-up blouse and sways her short skirted hips to the side.

"Sorry, you're not allowed in here. You're not working for us anymore." She says as Natara nears the desk. But the woman doesn't look sorry. A twitch at the corner of her thin lips makes it look like she's holding back a grin.

Regardless if the woman is happy about it or not, Natara instantly deflates. All the courage she summoned before walking in the building dissipates. She should have known it was too good to be true. Jaquie probably came to his senses and realized she wasn't worth keeping around after all of the mistakes she made yesterday.

She turns around and makes her way back outside. Unchaining her bike, her hands shake and warm tears surface in her eyes. As they topple down over her cheeks, she hears a familiar voice coming from the Vicetech entrance.

"Natara, wait!" The voice yells, startling her enough to make her drop the chain on the pavement. Her anxiety spikes and she hops on the bike, ready to leave the chain behind completely and go. As she starts to pedal off she catches a glimpse of Jaquie and he runs and jumps in front of her. She slams her brakes to a stop, heart pounding.

"Don't go," Jaquie pants. "You're not fired. Mr. Vice is just trying to get rid of you. He does this to everyone. You're not fired unless you want to quit. Please don't quit," he begs.

What is he talking about? Has he gone mad, jumping out in front of her bike like that? Natara has no idea how to think rationally right now. She sits frozen on her bike for several seconds, overcome by confusion and anxiety. 

I'm not fired? 

She struggles to make sense of it all. 

Mr. Vice is just playing games trying to get rid of me? He does this to everyone?

"Please, Natara," Jaquie begs again. "Don't listen to the woman at the front desk, ever, either. She's got a stick up her ass about you in particular. I don't know why."

He must not have any idea what else to say. Maybe there really is no comfort he could give her. Maybe working this job really is that bad that he just has to beg her not to leave. She takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, trying to expel all her emotions from her chest. The two stand across from each other, both panting and wearing terrified expressions.

"You promised you wouldn't give up?" Jaquie suggests. His voice comes out in a pitiful, doubtful squeak. Natara draws a slow breath in through her mouth, then exhales it slowly through her nose. Her grip loosens on her bike's handlebars.

"Yeah, okay. Yeah..." She stammers, still confused but relieved she hasn't been let go of. Jaquie places his hand on her handlebars, as if to steady her, and looks her deeply in the eyes.

"Let me bump you up to fifty cents more per hour," he offers. "Come on in, get changed, and let's get you to your desk. Please." He helps her steer her bike back over to where she had parked it - acting as if he's ushering a scared animal back to its pen before it runs off again - and handles the chain for her as she stares off toward the building.

"So Mr. Vice really doesn't hate me specifically?" Natara asks, still feeling dissociated. So much has already happened in the past forty-eight hours that already felt like a dream, but all of this feels just as strange and unusual. Jaquie leads her toward the building entrance and inside past the front desk. The secretary purses her lips and rolls her eyes as they pass.

"No, he hates everyone the same amount. He doesn't want a secretary but, as company heir, he needs a secretary to take care of everything for him," Jaquie replies. "I've told the girl at the front desk not to turn you away like that. She won't do that anymore."

This is all so confusing, Natara thinks. Why wouldn't Mr. Vice's son want a secretary? Wouldn't having one just make his life easier? It must be true if both Jaquie and Jace agree on it. Wouldn't anyone like having an assistant to take care of the little things for them? Jaquie reaches out and gently places his hand on her shoulder.

"Try not to think about it too much. It's just a job. Go in, do your work, stick with it even if it can get a little hard, and that's that," he says. And maybe he's right. Maybe "adulting" is all about ignoring what your job is really like - even if it's awful or confusing - and just getting on with it.

Natara swallows and nods to Jaquie, following him toward her office. But if what he said to her is supposed to be reassuring, it isn't. She's worried what other things will go wrong: She's concerned about Mr. Vice trying to get her fired, she's nervous about Crystal sabotaging her out of jealousy, and now she's worried about the woman at the front desk that seems to have it out for her for no good reason at all.

Vicecorp feels more like a battleground than a workplace.