Digging Up Trouble

“Was the meeting at eight? Thought it was at nine.”

“Seeing as how it’s almost ten, that’s beside the point.”

“You’re mad.”

I was. “Sit.”

He slumped in Deanna’s vacated chair, looking like Riley, my fifteen-year-old stepson, when he was in a mood.

In the reflection of his sunglasses I could see anger had darkened my already muddy green eyes. I noticed I needed a haircut too, my hair hanging past my shoulders. In my head it was easy to hear my sister Maria’s voice telling me to go blonde like she was, but I was happy to be a brunette.

For now.

I picked at the edge of a paper, folding it back and forth until it ripped. “What’s going on?”

Taking off his sunglasses, he looked at me. I held back a gasp but could feel my eyes go wide, my anger dissipating into worry. Dark circles rimmed his eyes and streaks of red marred the white part around his dark pupils. “Overslept.”

“You’ve been doing that a lot lately.”

“I know. Sorry.”

I jumped right in. “I think maybe it’s time you found another job, Jean-Claude. Something nocturnal maybe.”

His eyes grew wide, looking more bloodshot than before.

“What?”

“I really can’t have you working here anymore. Actually, you haven’t been working much at all. The others have been covering for you for too long. And it’s dangerous to have you working when you’re so tired all the time. Some of the equipment—”

“Nina, please, you can’t fire me.”

My stomach hurt. “I really don’t have a choice.”

Digging Up Trouble

9

“I need the money,” he said, leaning forward, over the table.

“I need you to work for the money.”

“I will. Just give me another chance.”

“Jean-Claude, this is about your hundredth chance.”

“Please, Nina.”

This all went back to me being a sucker for a sob story. I hated turning down someone in need. “Why do you need the money so badly?”

He pushed the heels of his hands into his eyes and rubbed.

“Family trouble.”

“Can you be more specific?”

“I’d rather not. It’s embarrassing.”

I looked out the conference room door, saw Tam sitting, listing left like a sinking boat, her ear cocked. She rarely missed much of what went on around here.

“You’re not doing drugs are you?”

I heard a scraping noise from the wall behind me and had the feeling Kit, Deanna, Coby, and Marty were listening through the vent.

“What? No! I don’t do that.”

My eyebrow arched.

“Anymore,” he put in.

The chimes on the front door startled me. My head snapped up.

She was here.

I gathered my files, stood up.

Jean-Claude glanced at me with big puppy dog eyes.

“Please, Nina?”

Be strong, I told myself. “We’ll talk about this later.”

All right, so I copped out. But I really needed more information before I could fire him. Right?

Ugh.

I hated firing people.