Page 25 of I Hope This Finds You Well

He takes a few strides forward, then stops and says, “Have you seen that email?”

I stop breathing. My skin becomes ice. I shake my head way too hard, ready to shout every excuse I can possibly come up with, when it clicks that he’s actually talking to Rhonda. He continues, leaning over her shoulder: “We, um, won’t be able to send you another replacement credit card.”

“What?” Rhonda huffs. “But I use it for your—”

“I know you use it a lot. However”—he crouches even lower to whisper—“head office red-flagged that you lost three cards in one year. With this latest one being stolen and used—well, it’s unusual. Maybe they think you’re running some kind of embezzlement scheme.”

His chuckle doesn’t pair well with Rhonda’s sudden stiffness, the way her face goes pale white beneath her cakey makeup.

“But don’t worry, hon, I defended you. What is it, twenty-odd years you’ve been here? We’ll sort it out.” He claps his palms together, and Rhonda visibly jolts.

Three lost cards in one year? How does that happen? Other than arguing with employees at Jo-Ann fabrics, I can’t imagine Rhonda gets up to that much. She’s lived alone since her husband died of a heart attack over a decade ago, and she never seems to have plans aside from visiting her son on the weekends.

Armin makes his way back to his desk, a Starbucks coffee in hand, yet somehow looking even more tired than before. Gregory calls out, “Nice of you to come in, my guy. Lunch is in five minutes.”

Armin’s face drops, but he manages an even response. “I’m sorry, I had to step out briefly.” He drops his hoodie on the corner of his desk as he sits down.

“No sweat,” Gregory says, his pompous grin violating every bulletin on the board. “It can’t be easy being in estrogen alley all day.” He pauses for laughter. Nobody says a word. After a long beat, he raiseshis hands in protest to god knows what. “I kid, I kid. I know I’m not allowed to joke these days!”

He’s in that category of people who should be ashamed of themselves, yet he’s never had to confront guilt because the world always tells him that he’s the fucking papa bear.

Caitlin practically leaps into her cube at the sight of Gregory and gives him a big-eyed smile. “Happy first of May, boss.”

Gregory nods as he walks off. I watch Caitlin turn to her computer and innocently run her hands across the keyboard.

A DM pops up to Garret:

WTF, he wants Jolene to pass now? This is mad. I’m going to talk to Rhonda again. She can say something to Gregory about how awful Jolene is.

I knew these people were fake and cruel, but I didn’t realize they’re all playing a game. If I hadn’t read their emails and DMs, I never would’ve understood the rules. Now I see where I truly sit on the chessboard.

I should probably be freaking out, but instead a weird lightness takes over. A tiny spark of new possibilities.

If this is a game, I can play just like everyone else. Except now I have the cheat codes. Thank Zeus Cliff didn’t understand his mistake with my emails. Now I have a candid view of their weak spots, their insecurities, and everything they’ll try to hide and exploit about me, themselves, and one another.

Rhonda stands up to reach for the tea box on her shelf. “Unpleasant,” she called me in her DMs. Well, I can prove her wrong.

I lift myself up and say, “Hey, Rhonda, how are you?”

She glances over at me, and I let myself smile, nice and casual.

Her eyes widen. “I’m fine. How are you, dear?” she asks, her voice hesitant. Across from us, Caitlin and Armin have fallen completely silent at their desks.

“I saw your email about the Morale Boosters. I’d be happy to help.”

For a second she just stares, like I’m the Sphinx and just offered her a riddle. Her shimmery eyeshadow glints beneath the fluorescent lightsas she blinks. Finally, she says, “Of course, dear, that would be great! I’ll email you the details. We have Gregory’s twentieth work anniversary party in just about three weeks.”

I focus all my energy into not letting my grin falter. One doesn’t simply plan a party for Gregory out of want or desire. One plans one out of a specific need to hurt themself and others. This is the kind of evidence that convinces me Rhonda is part evil.

But I manage to hold my head high because I can feel Caitlin’s eyes boring holes into me. Her keyboard is clattering, just like I’d hoped. “By the way,” I say to Rhonda, “I love the new purple theme you have here.” Though I wonder if Rhonda will be around next month to change the tissue paper again.

This time her smile is genuine. “Oh, thank you.”

Caitlin’s DMs are waiting for me as I lower myself back into my seat.

Caitlin:What even was that?

Armin:Jolene wants to join the Morale Boosters.