“Heya, Pey, how’s it hanging?” Trey asked as he stood in front of the microwave, watching his frozen meal dissolve and recongeal.

“Just fine, thanks,” I said, peeling back the top to my lunch.

“The hot water is out.”

I looked at the coffee machine: OUT OF ORDER. I rolled my eyes. I filled the Cup O’ Noodles with the hottest water the sink allowed and got in line behind Trey.

“Who do you have nowadays? Anyone interesting?” he asked, opening the microwave before it beeped. The steam from his lunch hit my face. It smelled like warm broccoli.

“No one too good,” I answered. But for the first time in ages, I wasn’t worried. I did have something. Something big. I just wasn’t going to tell Trey.

He stayed in front of the microwave as he stirred his food, his smile almost as thick.

“Too bad, buddy, too bad. Did you hear I landed Spence Norwood? Wrapped that set up like a present.”

“Yeah, Trey, I heard. That’s great,” I said as I edged past him. I punched the thirty-seconds button and fished a plastic spoon from a drawer.

“Don’t worry, buddy. It’ll happen for you too. You’ve only been here, what, a minute?”

“Just about.”

The microwave beeped. I pulled the handle to find my cup drooped to one side, soup dribbling out. I pushed the sloppy Styrofoam back up, but it wouldn’t stick.

“Come on, dipshits!” KQ yelled, her hand on the conference room door.

“Coming!” I responded, trying to rip off a paper towel square and getting only a quarter piece.

—

“OKAY, EVERYONE, LET’S GET down to business. First things first: we have a couple of new faces here today. We didn’t ask for them and we don’t need them, but here they are anyway. So this means everyone is going to have to work even harder to prove their worth around here, assuming none of you is itching for the days of cleaning out the meat grinders Downstairs.”

The woman next to me slumped down in her chair, as if hoping to melt onto the floor and get out unnoticed. I reached for a bottle of water and offered her one, but she shook her head.

“Second: congratulations are in order!” KQ went on. “Trey, well done with the Norwoods! You’ve been chasing that white whale for a while, slick! Your fifth Complete Set!” KQ put her hand on his shoulder and gave it a rough shake.

Trey beamed. “Thanks, boss.”

Broth spilled out of the sunken lip of my Cup O’ Noodles and pooled on the laminate tabletop.

My lunch looked like a mouth in a nursing home.

“Pey? Where are your numbers?”

I startled and pushed my notebook into the puddle.

“Well, it’s been a bit of a slow—” I started, my notebook creating a trail of soup like the foot mucus of a gastropod.