Measuring Up: No V In Team

I slept about half the flight and I spent the other half watching Mr. Barker. Seeing him with Tom it was easy to see they had been friends for a long time, probably before either of them came to work for Joseph Candle. It was just an assumption, but my mind started to put the pieces together with the two of them probably serving in the military together, only I would bet Tom was the one in charge back in those days. It’s not that I think Tom would make a better leader, I don’t, it is just that Mr. Barker doesn’t quite seem comfortable with his role around Tom.

With Dr. Michaels it was different. He was mostly ambivalent toward the man and Dr. Michaels was equally so toward Mr. Barker. There was a comfortable roughness to their relationship, as if they had decided they weren’t ever going to be friends but they could still be colleagues anyway. I wished I could get to that same place with Dr. Michaels but for the moment our relationship is based on him annoying me while I pretend not to be annoyed.

Kyra slept the whole flight from take off to landing. I was insanely jealous. Mr. Barker never even gave a glance to her during the flight. On the other hand, Dr. Michaels and Tom both stared at her sleeping form occasionally. I guess they both have a little bit of a thing for her which isn’t hard to see why. She is cute and when she’s sleeping, you don’t have to listen to her smartass comments.

Debarking in Pisa, I was stupidly surprised that it was morning outside. It felt like it should be night, but that’s what happens when you fly half way around the world. We were greeted by a small military escort of sorts. By the looks of them I guessed Air Force or the Italian equivalent. Mr. Barker spent a few minutes speaking with them alone and showing them our passports and some other papers which I gathered had something to do with the purpose of our visit. A few minutes later they left us alone.

“Cars will be here in a couple minutes.” Mr. Barker said, walking over to me.

I nodded not sure what that meant other than we’d be leaving after the cars arrived. Everyone gathered near me for some unknown reason.

“Don’t get too used to the local time zone. With a little luck we won’t be here more than a couple days.” Mr. Barker said.

“We can’t check-in until noon.” Kyra said.

Mr. Barker nodded looking at his watch.

“Unless you are planning on wasting the morning, I’ll need some place to setup until then.” Kyra said.

“I’m sure the hotel will allow you to use their conference room until the rooms are ready.” Dr. Michaels said.

“I wouldn’t assume it.” Kyra said.

“Just mention my name at the front and they’ll set you up.” Dr. Michaels said.

We all turned to watch two cars pull up. They were both a dull silver in color, but that was where the similarities ended. One was much smaller than the other and looked like a cross between an SUV and a hatchback while the other looked like a luxury sedan. Mr. Barker took the keys and signed some paperwork from the drivers and then tossed one set of keys to me. I barely caught them and nearly dropped them after I did.

“I think we should be about set now.” Mr. Barker said. “Miss West, you and Kyra head over to the hotel and get her set up. Get our stuff into our rooms once they’re available. Tom, Gene, you’re with me.”

I’m not really sure what I expected, but being sent off to the hotel with Kyra while the guys went off on their own was certainly not it. To add insult to injury, the three men piled into the sedan, leaving Kyra and I with the miniature half-breed for transportation. Given half a chance I might have complained or at the very least given the guys a dirty look, but they were off and running before Mr. Barker’s instructions had really sank in. I decided to shrug it off, especially since Kyra didn’t seem to think anything of it.

It took the two of us about a half hour to load all the gear into the little fiat. From there it was another hour before we successfully found our hotel. Kyra kept sending me down one way streets that didn’t allow us to turn off where we needed to go. She blamed it on the navigation system, I blamed it on her, silently of course. The one thing I really don’t like about tech people is they seem incapable of thinking without their tech.

The hotel reception was nicely elegant. I was impressed by the usage of marble on the walls, floors, and counters. Not that everything marble looks nice, it doesn’t, but the reception was done with an eye for coordination, using contrasting marble colorings that would never be found together in nature but seeing them together you couldn’t help but think they should have been. The echo of our heels on the floor made it seem larger than it in fact was, but the décor enhanced the effect as well, making it seem like a giant lobby in a five star hotel rather than the common quality it truly was.

We were just beginning to get Kyra’s computer equipment set up in the conference room when Mr. Barker called to check in with us.

“Is Kyra set up yet?” He asked.

“We’re working on that now.” I replied.

“What the hell’s taking so long?”

“Well we might have managed it a little faster if we’d had some help loading up the car.” I replied.

The annoyance I felt definitely crept into my tone, but right then I didn’t really care.

“Fine. How long until she’s set?” He asked.

I covered the microphone and turned to Kyra. She was busy sticking wires in God only knows what places.

“Mr. Barker wants to know how long before you are up.” I said.

She glanced at me and then returned her attention to the wires.

“An hour if everything goes smooth.” She said.

I took my hand away from the phone.

“She says an hour still.” I told him.

“Fine. Have her contact me as soon as she’s ready.” He said.

“Ok.”

The call ended as abruptly as it had begun.

I gave up trying to help Kyra. Every time I tried, she either scowled at me or in no uncertain terms told me to keep my hands to myself. So, I went for a walk and left her to her work. It seemed an awful lot of effort for a temporary setup, but I guess I still have a bit to learn about the work I’m involved in. Of course, if my job was to check us into hotels and chauffer Kyra around, that administrative assistant job might not be as far off from the truth as I first thought.

The hotel was built around a central courtyard. I made my way out into it and found a table near the fountain to sit and relax. The sound of the falling water was a near perfect accompaniment to the quiet chirping of birds in the nearby shrubbery. Flowers were in bloom all around me and the air was aromatized with the faint scent of lavender.

A very nice young woman came up to me with a smile on her face and a flower in her hair. At first I wondered if I’d wandered someplace I shouldn’t be but her relaxed demeanor put my mind at ease. I glanced at her and reminded myself to smile.

“English?” She asked.

“Yes, please.” I said.

“Would you like anything?” She asked.

It took me a moment but then I figured out I was sitting in the equivalent of an outdoor café.

“Coffee if you have it.” I said.

From personal experience, it usually rude to sit in such a place and not order anything. She nodded and left me alone with my thoughts. They kept drifting back to self-satisfied expressions Dr. Michaels had been sporting since we boarded the plane in LA. I had agreed to go along with Mr. Candle’s charade in the hopes it would help normalize my relations with Dr. Michaels, but instead it seemed to have had a near opposite effect. By his attitude, he clearly now felt comfortably superior to me and didn’t mind rubbing my face in the evidence of it.

Combine that with Kyra, Tom and Mr. Barker thinking I had been disciplined for my own attitude was also far from helping me become an accepted member of the team. In my view, it had isolated me further and made them take a very negative view of me. Perhaps, I am jaded or maybe my own embarrassment at the situation are fueling the hard feelings dominating my thoughts, but then again I was sitting alone in a courtyard while the rest of them were working.

The young woman returned briefly and laid a small white cup of coffee on the table. It was steaming hot, but I’ve had shots of whiskey with more liquid in them. I picked up the tiny cup, carefully holding it between my forefinger and thumb. I tossed it back in a single swallow and nearly choked on the bitter taste. It might have been no more than a swallow but it tasted like the whole pot.

I was still trying to pop my eyes back in their sockets when my phone rang. Coughing and trying to suppress it, I glanced to see who it was and then answered it.

“Yeah.” I said.

There was a brief pause on the other end followed by some shuffling around.

“Miss West?” Mr. Barker asked.

“Yes.” I replied.

“Are you alright?”

“Fine.”

“You didn’t quite sound yourself.”

“You caught me swallowing some coffee or at least the local version of it.” I said.

“I see. Is Kyra setup yet?”

“She was still working on it last I checked.”

“Aren’t you helping her?”

“She didn’t want my help.”

“Oh.”

“I’m not very computer savvy.” I explained.

“I didn’t realize.”

“You didn’t ask.”

“I’m going to send you a set of files to your phone.” Mr. Barker said.

“Ok.”

“As soon as Kyra has her station set up, she needs to run a comparative analysis between these scans and the corresponding files in Gene’s database. We’re looking for any anomalies.”

“Ok.” I said.

“Did you get all that?” Mr. Barker asked.

I could have taken offense.

“Yes, analyze for discrepancies between the scans and our data files on the same data.” I said.

“Right and then call me back with what you find.”

“Right. Where are these scans from?”

“We’re at the local museum and they have a few of Galileo’s original journals on display. Gene was able to get copies of their digital scans.”

“I see. So the data will need to be translated also.” I said.

“Of course, Kyra will know how to do all that.” Mr. Barker said.

“Silly me.” I replied.

“I realize you are new Miss West and you’ve already had to learn at least one lesson the hard way, but don’t think I won’t teach you a few others the same way if you don’t drop the attitude.” Mr. Barker scolded.

I bit my tongue and accepted the annoying fact that Mr. Barker was not only being fair, but truthful. None of it changed the fact I felt like I was being left out but maybe it really was just my imagination. After all, someone had to help Kyra with all her stuff and Mr. Barker couldn’t really have gone hunting for the compass without Dr. Michaels. I suppose Tom and I could have traded places easily enough, but if there was going to be any trouble it probably wasn’t going to be at the hotel and so it made more sense for Tom to be right where he was.

“Sorry, Mr. Barker. I’m just feeling a little useless here and I’m not really sure what I should be doing to help.” I said.

It was direct, honest, and dangerous, but I was betting Mr. Barker would respond better to that than anything else I could say.

“You’ve got a job now, so get on it and I’ll see if I can’t find a few other chores to keep you out of trouble in the meantime.” Mr. Barker said.

He ended the call before I could respond. I sat there staring at the phone for at least 30 seconds before putting it back in my purse and heading back to Kyra. She probably wouldn’t need my help with the data comparison, but I had a nagging feeling if I left her alone again, I’d be regretting it before bedtime.

Measuring Up: Swallowing Pride

It felt a bit like déjà vu when I climbed into the black limousine to find Joseph Candle waiting for me. Only this time, I was dressed as professionally as he. I smiled, not quite surprised to find him. He looked tired, as if he hadn’t slept.

“Good morning.” He said.

“Good morning.”

I attached my seatbelt and regarded him carefully. The lines on his face suggested more than mere exhaustion, it was concern and with that realization came yet another; He was worried about me.

“I trust you slept well?” He asked.

“I did, but I’m quite certain the quality of my sleep is about the farthest thing from your mind.” I said.

He chuckled.

“You remind me of…well someone I knew a long time ago. She was also good at seeing right through me.”

His admission clicked a piece of the puzzle that was him, into place for me. Suddenly, I understood a little more about why he had picked me. I wasn’t just a random face in the crowd to him. Whoever she was, I reminded him just enough of her to make the pain of losing her a little more bearable. It was sad and yet inspiring at the same time.

“You’re worried about our trip.” I said.

“It should be uneventful.”

“But?”

“Most don’t believe the compass exists.”

“So if we find it there could be trouble.”

“Hopefully not.”

“Then what is it?”

His brow furrowed for a moment before relaxing.

“You.” He said.

It was an accusation mired by admiration and the paradox was written all over his face. If he had been my mother I would have reacted strongly to the accusation and ignored the admiration entirely, but for some reason I was inclined to give him more leeway.

“Is it something I might do or something I might figure out?” I asked.

He smiled

“Perhaps do is the right choice, but I think not in the manner you mean.” He replied.

“Oh? Then how is it meant?”

“I had a lengthy conversation with Dr. Michaels.”

“Does he engage in any other kind?”

Mr. Candle chuckled again.

“No, I suppose he does not. However, this conversation was somewhat specific to you.”

“I see. I have endeavored to treat him with as much delicacy as I’m able, but he can be quite impossible to please.”

“Dr. Michaels is indeed, shall we say difficult?” Mr. Candle said.

I nodded slightly less than emphatically.

“However, his diverse historical knowledge and his years of archeological field work are quite rare.” Mr. Candle continued.

“I have no doubt he is a singular individual.” I said.

“Yes, that being the case I’m sure you can appreciate the need to placate him on certain matters.” Mr. Candle said.

I rather suddenly had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.

“I’m not certain I follow your thinking.” I said, hoping it was more the truth than the less I feared.

“Allow me to give you some advice.” Mr. Candle offered.

“Of course.”

“When Dr. Michaels gets into a tirade, it’s usually best to let him rant without arguing.”

I bit back the argument forming in my head. It would only serve to impress the point Mr. Candle was making anyway.

“Also, it would be best not to contradict him on matters for which he is an expert.” Mr. Candle said.

“Even if he’s wrong?” I replied.

The question had left my lips before I could think twice. I swallowed an urge to be embarrassed.

“If he is wrong, I suggest you have irrefutable proof of the fact first. He is a reasonable man when evidence is presented, but simply not sharing his opinion does not make you right and him wrong.”

“I never suggested it did.”

“Forgive me. I am trying to avoid ambiguities.”

“So basically you are telling me to walk on eggshells around him.” I said.

“Just until the two of you get to know each other better. I suspect in time you will each find more than enough cause to respect each other.”

“Alright. I can manage I think, but only so far as historical matters are concerned. He obviously has the empathy of a mule and I won’t trust his judgments on the motivations of others.”

“I understand.” Mr. Candle said.

He seemed a little less stressed, but it was hard not to notice there remained a nervousness about him. It was not something I really expected from him.

“Was there something else?” I asked.

Mr. Candle cleared his throat.

“Dr. Michaels felt you should be disciplined for you behavior around him over this past week.”

“What?” I nearly choked on the word.

“As I said, it is sometimes necessary to placate Dr. Michaels.”

“Maybe so, but that is ridiculous. I was merely doing what was asked of me this week. It is not my fault he took offense to the project.” I said.

“I agree, but I do not believe any harm would truly be done by making him believe some discipline had occurred this morning.”

Relief flooded through me and it was only at that moment I realized just how tensed the concept of being spanked by Mr. Candle had made me. It was hardly a question as to whether I would prefer a little pretense to the actual act.

“I see. I think I can manage the appropriate attitude. I’ll apologize when I see him and hopefully that will be the end of it.” I said.

“Just please hold back any annoyance should he perchance begin to gloat.” Mr. Candle said.

I flashed a wry grin at the thought.

“I’ll bite my tongue, but if he goes too far, I’m not responsible if he falls out of the plane at 20,000 feet.” I said.

Mr. Candle chuckled.

The limo pulled right out onto the tarmac and right up to the steps leading to the corporate jet. Kyra was standing at the top of the steps wearing her typical navy skirt and blazer with a dark gray blouse underneath. From a distance I almost mistook her for a flight attendant. As the car came to a stop I bid Mr. Candle farewell and stepped out into the morning.

As I closed the limo door and took my suitcase from the driver, I noticed Dr. Michaels walking up. He looked rather smug and quite full of himself. Inwardly I groaned, but I held up my end of the deal. Gingerly, I rubbed at the seat of my skirt and donned an expression as close to contriteness as I could manage. Dr. Michaels smiled wider, taking notice.

“Good morning, Virginia.” He said.

“Good morning.” I said. “Um, Dr. Michaels?”

He paused in his purposeful stride and turned toward me with an arched eyebrow. I was frankly amazed at how innocent he was playing. I guess he’s one of those dark personalities that avoid direct confrontation but savour the secret maneuvering behind the scenes.

“Did you need something?” He asked.

“Um, well I just wanted to apologize for my rude behavior over the past week.” I said.

It was hard but I managed to get the words out without choking on my tongue.

“Did someone get their tushy paddled?” He asked.

If I hadn’t known he was talking to me I would have assumed he was questioning a toddler. I thought about standing naked in the middle of survival camp and succeeded in bringing on an appropriately pink hue to my face.

“Maybe we could try starting over?” I suggested.

“I believe I asked you a question.” He replied.

I couldn’t believe his nerve. Here I was supposedly with a sore backside, deflated ego, apologetic attitude, all of it because of him, and he wants to make power plays over stating the obvious. I swallowed it all though and did what had to be done.

“Yes.” I said.

“Yes what?”

He was really trying himself and my patience.

“Yes, sir.” I said.

“No.” He replied. “I want you to tell me what happens to young ladies who have the audacity to be as rude as you were to me. I’m sure you can manage to say it or perhaps I should ask Joe to repeat the lesson right here in front of the whole team?”

I wanted to strangle him. I envisioned my hands around his throat and then my imagination betrayed me and instead revealed me bent over the hood of the limousine, skirt laying next to my head, and Mr. Candle raising the signature blue paddle aimed straight at my quivering buttocks. Embarrassing as the image was, none of it compared to the amused looks I imagined on Tom, Jack and Dr. Michael’s faces.

“Yes, I had my tushy paddled for being rude to you sir.” I said.

“It’s really too bad Joe let you put your skirt back on already. I was hoping to see the marks for myself.”

I blushed unsure whether he was trying to tease me or actually being serious and wanting me to walk around without my skirt on. I hoped for the former, seeing as it would be real hard to explain the lack of color on my lower cheeks. Fortunately, he simply turned and climbed the stairs without making any further comments. I paused for a moment wishing he’d accidentally slip and fall down the steps, but of course he didn’t.

With a last glance at the tinted glass concealing Mr. Candle inside the limo, I picked up my bag and climbed the steps after Dr. Michaels. Kyra gave my arm a supportive squeeze as I reached the top. It was only then I realized that the entire Q5 team was aware of my supposed spanking from Mr. Candle. As I pretended to gingerly take my seat, I wondered if it wouldn’t have been better to have actually had the real thing. At least then, I’d have the sting to take my mind off the embarrassment I was feeling.

Measuring Up: Balancing Act

It took four more days to finish going through the stack of books and random notes provided by Dr. Michaels. He and Kyra had been growing increasingly impatient over the week as I spent hour after hour sifting through the material and occasionally quizzing them on my interpretations. Contrastingly, Mr. Barker had approved and even seemed impressed by my diligence. I leaned back in my chair and scrolled through the 40 pages of notes I had taken with a feeling of tremendous satisfaction.

“Finished?” Mr. Barker asked, leaning his head in my doorway without stepping inside.

I glanced up at him and flashed a smile. His sporadic visits through the week had kept me from getting too bored. The way he showed up here and there had me wondering if he might be interested in me more than the report, but that’s probably just my wild imagination at work. Still, he was a pleasant interruption.

“Finally.” I said. “Do you want it printed or will a network copy suffice?”

“Just give me it’s location in an email and I’ll be all set.” He replied.

“Coming right up then.”

“Is she done?” Dr. Michaels asked coming up the stairs from the main room. “Really done? Like we can get back to real work done?”

Mr. Barker laughed at him and rather than answering, he walked away back to his own office. Dr. Michaels paused for a moment looking like he was trying to decide whether to follow Mr. Barker or come see me. I was hoping for the first but of course he did the latter. I’ll have to work on being less approachable.

“Yes Dr. Michaels, the report is done.” I said.

“Are you certain you’ve gone over every detail? I’m certain we could take a few more days just to be sure.” He said.

The sarcasm dripping off his tongue was really starting to get on my nerves.

“I understand you are anxious to get back to Italy and resume your search, but having read your report it is pretty obvious you don’t have a clue where to look next.” I said.

“Obviously you failed to read all my notes. I have several clues as to where to look.” He replied.

“Enough to keep us rummaging through half of Europe for the next decade.”

“Better out there looking than in here wasting time trying to figure out if we know what we already know.”

“It wasn’t your call and it wasn’t mine for that matter, but I happen to agree with Mr. Barker, it is better that we take some time to narrow our search rather than running around in circles.”

“I’m sure your exquisite report will lead us straight to it.” Dr. Michaels said.

I couldn’t help it. I rolled my eyes and slapped my open palm down on my desktop in frustration. He was really getting on my nerves.

“Don’t you have something better to do?” I asked.

“Like what? Find the lost Galilean Compass? I thought you already did that?”

“I did what I was asked to do. If you’ve got a problem with that, take it up with someone who cares.”

“I’m sure Joe will be very interested to hear how you don’t care.”

“Then run along and tell him” I said.

Right about then I’d have taken a spanking just to not have to listen to him anymore. I doubted Mr. Candle would have that kind of reaction anyway. In my short time with Q5 I had noticed, no one really listened to Dr. Michaels. Frankly, I was beginning to wonder why he was part of the team in the first place.

“Lucky for you I have better things to do with my time.” Dr. Michaels replied.

He spun around on his heel to leave and nearly trampled Kyra into ground. The two of them glared at each other for a long minute before Dr. Michaels remembered how to be a gentleman and stood aside. Kyra stepped inside with an exaggerated stride passed him which made me giggle slightly. Dr. Michaels frowned.

“I’m putting together final itineraries in the next couple hours so if you have any special travel requirement send them to my terminal ASAP. Mr. Barker wants us in the air by Sunday afternoon.” Kyra said.

“Do we stick with business attire or something else for these trips?” I asked.

Gene looked at the ceiling and shook his head as if I’d asked what color the sky was. Kyra huffed a little as if she expected me to already know.

“If it’s too much trouble for you to answer I’ll just ask Mr. Barker myself.” I said.

“No, no. Standard business attire is expected, but bring some evening and casual attire as well so you’re prepared.” Kyra said.

“Thank you.” I said.

“When will you have an ETD for Sunday?” Dr. Michaels asked.

“Two hours. I’ll message everyone when it’s finalized.” Kyra replied.

Dr. Michaels nodded and left my office without a look back. I watched him walk away wanting to strangle him.

“Gene getting on your nerves?” Kyra asked.

“Like bees in honey.” I said.

“You’ll get used to it. He’s not so bad in the field when we’re working but he gets a little stir crazy around the office.”

“Somehow I don’t think either of us would get away with acting like that around here.”

Kyra laughed.

“Didn’t think so.” I said. “Was there something else?”

“Oh yeah. You need to get certified for travel with firearms. Tom’s waiting for you down on level 24.”

“Is that really necessary?” I asked.

“Just following orders. You’d be smart to do the same.” She said.

I nodded as she left back to her own desk in a hurry. She always seemed like a hub of activity and I had a feeling she liked it that way. I sighed and pushed myself back from my desk to head out.

I should have remember as soon as Kyra had said 24, but it didn’t hit me until the elevator doors opened up to two goons with guns, just where it was I was going. I glanced nervously at the palm scanner and swallowed hard before placing my hand on it. I had only slightly better confidence I would survive the scan than the first time, but just like before the light turned green.

The guns were lowered and the goons looked only slightly disappointed they didn’t get shoot me. I smiled, happy to be alive. Looking around, I realized I didn’t really know where to go to find Tom. I should have asked Kyra for more specific instructions but of course she knew I wouldn’t know and was more than happy to let me head off with only minimal information. What will it take to get the team to respect me?

“Excuse me, I know it’s a little unusual to ask, but could either of you point me in the direction of Mr. Tom Clark?” I asked.

The two goons looked at each other as if trying to decide if it would be a dereliction of their duty to respond to me. I guess it wasn’t or they thought I was worth the risk. Probably the first because I doubt they have much brains for thinking.

“First door on the left.” Goon one said.

I smiled and nodded.

“Thanks.”

My security card unlocked the door without issue, another relief since the goons were watching. I stepped inside and immediately wanted to walk back out. I hadn’t expected to walk in on anybody except Tom. He was there, but he was not alone.

He paused and looked at me with a serious expression on his face. The blink in his eyes said he was annoyed but the up tick in his posture indicated he was at least somewhat pleased by my presence. The young woman bent over the desk was less pleased.

Her skirt was folded neatly on the table and laying immediately next to her head. There was no way her peripheral vision wasn’t completely aware of it and I’m guessing the fact was contributing to the bright red blush gracing her cheeks. The glistening tears in her eyes probably weren’t helping either though.

Tom was standing behind her with a blue leather paddle identical to the one I’d felt from Mrs. Anderson when I was hired. It wasn’t anything like Dad’s paddle at home but it still did a good job of stinging and combing that with the humiliation of being de-skirted and spanked at work, it was certainly a bad enough experience to merit avoidance.

“Don’t you knock?” Tom asked, staring coldly at me.

“No one mentioned this was a private office or that you were occupied. I apologize for the intrusion.” I said. “I can come back later.”

Tom shook his head.

“Never mind. I’m almost finished here.”

“I can wait outside.” I suggested.

The woman on the table nodded emphatic agreement but didn’t utter a word.

“Don’t be silly. You might as well see first hand what you can expect from time to time, especially if you forget your manners very often.” Tom said with a wink.

I stood off to the side of the door with my back to the wall and waited for Tom to finish up. He laid six hard swats on her backside while I watched. Each one had her whimpering and struggling to stay down on the table. By the last, her tears where glistening on her cheeks rather than in her eyes, but that wasn’t really surprising. What caught my attention was the gentle way Tom helped her up off the table, wiped away her tears and handed her skirt back to her. Once she was composed, she even gave him a rueful smile.

“I’m sorry Mr. Clark, it won’t happen again. I promise.” She said.

He nodded and showed her out the door. When it closed he turned his attention back to me.

“What are you here for?” He asked.

“Kyra said you needed to certify me for traveling with firearms.”

“You’re already certified. You just need to sign some papers and check out your weapon.” He said.

“Is it really necessary?” I asked.

“I can paddle you first and then we can do it, if you prefer.”

“I’m sure you would like that.”

“Don’t ask if you don’t want to know.” He replied.

“Let’s just get this over with.” I said.

“Sure thing, honey.” He said with a wink, “Just take off that skirt and fold it up neatly and then you can bend over the table just like you saw.”

I cocked my head at him and gave him my best woman out of patience look.

“Ha. Ha. Ha.” I said.

“You can’t blame a man for trying.”

“I can and I will.”

“You need to lighten up. You might be the hottest thing around this week but after a couple of months you’ll be just like the rest of us.”

“Better get that gun checked out to me then.” I said.

He raised an eyebrow at me.

“If I start acting anything like you, I’ll need it to shoot myself.” I said.

He shook his head at me. I shook my head at him. He huffed. I sighed. Finally, we sat down to the paperwork at hand and after a few minutes I left with a loaded gun inside my blazer. It was awkward and heavy and I was determined to hate it. Too bad I couldn’t just say no.

When I got back up to the 32nd floor, Kyra had finalized all the trip details and I printed out a copy of my itinerary to have Cathy make the necessary arrangements to keep my parents thinking it was just a typical business trip. Mr. Barker rode in the elevator with me on the way out.

“I hope you didn’t have any plans for the weekend.” He said.

“Only for tonight actually and they could have easily been postponed if needed.”

“That’s the only way to live.”

“I take it you’re single?” I asked.

He frowned at me slightly and I wished I could take the question back.

“I don’t like to mix my personal life with work.” He said.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”

“Forget about it.”

The doors opened and he walked away without another word. I watched him for a moment before talking to Cathy and she watched me watch him. I blushed a little when I noticed but she said nothing about it and so neither did I. She arranged my paperwork for home in less than fifteen minutes and I was finally on my way home. When I got there, I didn’t even have a chance to drop my keys coming in the front door before Mom attacked.

“Aren’t you going out tonight?” She accused.

“Yes, Mom.” I answered.

I know the annoyance I was feeling came through in my voice and I didn’t even care. She already knew the answer to the question before she asked. It was just her way of needling me about coming home late from work. No doubt she thought it was some surreptitious protest of mine about being setup with Mark. The concept that my job might actually require more than an 8 hour commitment was obviously beyond her comprehension.

“Isn’t he going to be here any minute?” She asked.

It should have been rhetorical considering she was standing right next to me when I made the date with Mark. I rolled my eyes toward the grandfather clock and nodded my head in agreement. Mom wasn’t too amused but I was.

“Oh! By the way, I’m leaving for Italy Sunday morning, so I’ll need to pack tomorrow. Do you think you could take care of my laundry tonight?” I said.

“You were just gone for a week! How can they expect you to travel this often?” Mom asked.

“It’s part of the job Mom. I already mentioned I’d be doing a lot of traveling.” I said.

“It’s not appropriate just you and this male boss of yours going off together on these trips. How long will it be this time?”

“It’s not just the two of us. I’m not even the only woman going and I’ll have a private room. It’s not like I’ll be sleeping with my boss Mom.”

“Don’t even say something like that young lady. It’s bad enough you are traveling with him and someone else might think it.”

Is it murder to strangle your own mother? It seems like temporary insanity or even self defense ought to cover it from a legal perspective.

“It’s my job. I realize you don’t approve, but you didn’t approve of unemployment either. You really make me feel like I can do no right sometimes.” I said.

“You should be happy I take an interest in your life. It would be far easier to wash my hands of you.”

I balled my hands into fists, closed my eyes, and breathed out all the tension. Arguing with mom is like trying to move a wall, it isn’t going to happen unless you want to break it. I forced a smile, unclenched my fists, and opened my eyes.

“We’ll talk about it later okay? I need to get ready.” I said.

Mom huffed clearly not happy with me. What would make her happy with me is probably something I will never understand. Fortunately, a knock at the front door prevented the conversation from dragging on any further.

Mark had ditched his tie and unbuttoned his collar by the time he knocked on the door. Dad was there to greet him and I bet it was quite the site from the street. Mark had brought a half dozen red roses and had to quickly retract the offering when he became aware it was Dad and not me on the other side of the door. There was awkward throat clearing before Dad invited him inside.

“I’ll be ready to go in five.” I said on my way up the stairs.

Mom collected the roses. Dad restarted the inquisition.

Three minutes later Mark and I were in his car.

The restaurant was packed. It was the kind of place my parents would never set foot in and that made it perfect. The tables were all covered in red and white checkered cloths and the floor was lightly covered in dry straw mixed with peanut shells. A red plastic basket sat in the middle of each table full of peanuts waiting to be broken free from their shells.

It was something like an indoor picnic, complete with the aroma of simmering woodchips and dripping BBQ sauce. It took me a moment to notice the country music playing in the background because there was so much rhythmic clapping and dancing going on, the music wasn’t really needed.

We were seated right away, apparently Mark has friends in low places. Rather than sitting across from me he decided to park himself right next to me on the bench at our table. It was unusual but I give him high marks for originality. Given the noise in the place it was also probably the only way we were going to understand anything beyond sign language from each other.

“Chicken, beef, or pork?” He shouted at me.

“Chicken.” I replied, leaning in closer than I really needed.

He didn’t seem to mind. His arm slipped around me and it felt nice, comfortable. I have to admit he was shaking my first impression quite well. Then he started swaying with me on the bench and I couldn’t help but relax. It was almost like I had known him for years instead of mere days.

When our waitress arrived, dressed in a long brown skirt, red boots, and a checkered shirt that matched the table cloth, he quickly stood up and whispered our orders into her ear. I was waiting for her to slap him for getting so close but she just smiled and giggled. I was slightly jealous but probably for no reason since he sat right back down next to me and continued our little dance.

It didn’t take long for dinner to arrive. By the looks of it we got the whole chicken minus the neck and head. It was served like royalty on a faux silver platter with a large carving knife neatly planted on the side. Mark did the honors, but not before affixing a disposable bib around my neck and layering my lap with paper napkins. I wondered if a yellow slicker would have looked better.

Mark didn’t seem to care about how ridiculous I looked and oddly enough that made me not care either. I’m not used to being fed at the table, well at least not since I was two, but Mark never gave me chance. He insisted I try every bite right from his hands and by the end of the meal I was glad it was his hands covered in sweet, sticky sauce and not mine.

As we walked outside into the cool evening air, I slipped my hand inside of his. There aren’t many men who could pull off a dinner experience like that without coming off as a complete jackass, but he’d managed to make it romantic and fun. I hated the fact the evening was coming to an end, but dragging it out longer would make me seem like an immature teenager or a desperate hussy. Being neither, I knew it was time to go home.

Mom and Dad were probably watching us while we stood on the doorstep saying goodnight. For the first time in my life, I didn’t care. Mark just had a way about him that made me feel like nothing else mattered when he was close. I know there are supposed to be rules about first dates, but they aren’t for nights like this one. I kissed him warmly, making sure he knew just how much I enjoyed the evening. From inside, I watched him walk back to his car with a kick in his step and a smile on his face.

Measuring Up: Searching For Direction

Dr. Michaels walked into my office, his arms loaded with a stack of books stretching from his chin down to his waist. They thudded loudly on my desktop. I looked from them to Dr. Michaels and back to them again. He rested an empty hand atop the stack and grinned.

“Just some light reading to catch you up on our latest mission.” He said.

“Please tell me there is a synopsis somewhere.” I replied.

“I’m afraid not, but I could give you a brief oral summary if you aren’t up to reading.”

“Let’s start with that and then I can better focus my attention.”

“Well basically we are looking for a one of a kind prototype compass designed and manufactured by Galileo di Vincenzo Bonaiuti de' Galilei himself.” He began.

I had to fight the urge to roll my eyes at his use of Galileo’s full name. No doubt I was supposed to be impressed and I might have been had he not butchered the pronunciation with Spanish accents rather than the Italian one’s to which the name belonged.

“So what are we talking about a directional compass or a drawing compass?” I asked.

“Neither. The Galilean compass was a mathematical tool much like a scientific calculator.” Kyra said, entering my office.

“Galileo made many of these compasses throughout his career and in fact the sale of these extremely precise instruments to the military and surveyors kept him with sufficient coin to pursue his many other interests ranging from time keeping to astronomy and astrology. In the early 17th century, circa 1609 he improved upon his design and wrote a pamphlet to accompany the new and improved compasses.” Dr. Michaels said.

I stifled a yawn at his monologue and felt sorry for whatever students had once been unfortunate enough to listen to his ramblings. If his story had a point he was taking the long way to getting to it. Meanwhile, Kyra had sat on the corner of my desk and didn’t feel the need to hide her boredom.

“You did hear Mr. Barker wanted a report today?” She asked, looking right at Dr. Michaels.

“Jack doesn’t need a report. He already knows as much as we know about the compass. She’s the only one that doesn’t.” He replied.

“He’s going to lose his patience with you calling him Jack.” Kyra taunted.

“I’ve been here longer than any of you and I’ll call each of you whatever I damn well please.” He responded.

Watching the two of them I figured out pretty quickly that while they liked to goad each other, there was also a layer of mutual respect and friendship beneath it all. I wondered briefly just how long these two had been working together.

“Like it or not Mr. Barker is the boss now.” Kyra said.

“Not.” Dr. Michaels said.

“He wants a report, he gets a report and personally I don’t fancy trying to explain why she doesn’t have it done on time.” Kyra said.

“I can’t say I would mind watching you try.” He replied.

The glint in his eye and the wicked grin on his face made me wonder just what he meant. Kyra seemed to know if the blush on her cheeks was any indicator.

“Cute. You do know I could have a virus destroy all your historical records?” She said.

“Digital logs are hardly historical.” He said and patted the pile of books he had dropped on my desk. “This stuff is history and your viruses can’t touch them.”

“Maybe not but a fire could.” She replied.

“You wouldn’t dare.” He said.

“Try me.” She said with fluttering eyelashes.

“Hey guys, maybe we could get back to this compass thingamajig? I realize it’s not quite as pressing as your banter but it’s unless I’m mistaken it’s the job.” I said.

“Right then.” He said.

He paced the floor in front of my desk like it was a giant lecture hall. Kyra groaned but after one look from me, decided to keep her mouth shut and listen. I tried to act like I was really interested even though all I was really interested in was finishing the report so I could get on to something that would matter.

“During his career Galileo was first and foremost a mathematician. He was brilliant and his work provided the foundation for much of Newton and Einstein’s discoveries. Unfortunately, he lived in a time when the Catholic church ruled supreme on matters of science and anything which could be vaguely construed to contradict scripture was considered heresy. Galileo was eventually put on trial and convicted for heresy over the publication of a paper discussing the pros and cons of a heliocentric solar system. The work was originally approved by the Pope himself as well as the Inquisition of the day, but politics run amok somehow and it ended badly for Galileo. He was forbidden to publish any further works and spent the remainder of his days under house arrest.” Dr. Michaels continued.

I wanted so badly to ask what all that had to do with the compass we were looking for but between the smug look on his face and Kyra‘s yawning, I elected to remain silent. No need to give them more fuel and start a new round of time wasting banter.

“Sometime during those final days, probably before he went blind, Galileo constructed a final compass which is rumored to include a special chart for marking universal time passage based on the observed orbits of a group of moons orbiting Jupiter, known today as the Galilean Satellites. It is this mathematical basis of marking universal time which makes the compass invaluable and particularly so because any papers he may have wrote explaining the concept were never published. The compass may well be the only surviving record of this scientific breakthrough.” Dr. Michaels finished.

I sat back for a moment and tried to summarize what he had told me. It seemed incredible or rather incredibly ridiculous.

“So what you are saying is we are looking for a compass that might contain a mathematical algorithm for universal time keeping, but we don’t know if the compass or the algorithm actually exist at all?” I said.

Dr. Michaels looked at me for a moment. Then he looked through me as if processing my words and trying to decide if he could respond simply or if a more complicated response was required.

“In essence,” He said. “Yes.”

“See how much easier it could have been said?” Kyra piped in.

I shook my head at her. I thought I had trouble keeping my mouth shut. By the looks of things, Kyra had me beat on that count by miles.

“Do we have clues as to where such a compass might have ended up?” I asked.

“Not much. My best research suggests it might have been passed down to his son Vincenzo. He followed in his father’s footsteps to an extent in mathematics although never quite as successful. It was clear however that he had a fascination with time and actually designed a pendulum based clock although it was never built. Most dismiss the design because it lacks accuracy based on our accepted time keeping, but I’ve theorized the clock might have been designed to keep time on an entirely different scale.”

“So it could be plan for a universal clock of sorts?”

“His theory is crap. The clock is based on a false premise about the swing of a pendulum. He’s just grasping at straws because we already proved his original thoughts on the compass were wrong.” Kyra said.

“It is a possibility, but without Galileo’s formula it is impossible to determine.” Dr. Michaels said, ignoring Kyra entirely.

I decided to follow his lead. She wasn’t really helping us get anything resolved.

“So if Vincenzo got the compass, where would it have gone from there?” I asked.

“That is the question. My theories include Galileo’s tomb in the Basilica of Santa Croce, The Catholic Church, or somewhere in the estate of Sestilia Galilei Bocchineri.”

“And if Vicenzo didn’t get it?” I asked.

“Then it could be anywhere.” Kyra said.

It was the reality regardless but Dr. Michaels didn’t seem to realize it. If the compass existed at all, if it survived the last 400 years, it could be sitting in a museum somewhere with no one knowing what it was worth or worse yet, it could be in someone’s basement collecting dust and long forgotten. One question plagued me; Why were we looking for it now?

“Okay so how do we put this into a report?” I asked.

Kyra bravely rolled her eyes at me. Dr. Michaels chuckled. I looked between the two of them feeling certain I was the joke.

“A little help getting to know how you do things around here is all I’m asking.” I said.

“Yeah, well you better ask Mr. Barker.” Kyra said.

“I thought he told you to help me.” I said.

“He did, but he’s the only one who has ever actually done them before.” She said.

“Do you have an old one?” I asked.

“Nope.” She said.

I closed my eyes and tried to push away the frustration.

“Fine.” I said. “Get out.”

The both looked at me like I’d lost my mind. I didn’t care. If they weren’t there to help I certainly wasn’t going to keep them around to watch. Besides, how hard can it be to make a report? They wisely decided not to test me and left me alone.

I turned on the computer, grabbed the top book from the stack and started reading. Summaries are great when someone knows what is going on, but when everyone’s in the dark a summary is just a shortcut to missing what you are looking for.

It was dark outside when Mr. Barker popped his head into my office. I was not even close to halfway finished, but I wasn’t going to let that scare me. It wasn’t like I’d been wasting time.

“How’s it going?” He asked.

“With all this material I can’t get you a report before tomorrow evening at best.” I said.

He nodded.

“You knew that from the start.” I said.

“I did.”

“Then why ask for the impossible?”

“I wanted to see how you’d handle it.”

“Did I pass?”

He smiled.

“With flying colors. Why don’t you pack it up for the night. It’s time to go home.” He said.

I looked at the stack remaining on my desk and nodded. It would still be there in the morning and wherever the lost compass was resting, it would still be there too. Or so I hoped.

Measuring Up: Coffee & Crumbs

It felt oddly important to see my name on a placard, reserving a parking space. Seeing my car parked in the space was a little more like reality. It’s dull paint, dented fenders and scratched bumpers looked anything but belonging in the garage where it was surrounded by cars whose full tanks of gas would cost more than my car’s bluebook value. Walking away from the embarrassing sight, I smoothed the wrinkles from uniform gray skirt and slipped into the blazer.

I was early but unabashedly eager to arrive at my first day of real work. There were questions to be asked and answers to be given and I was a week passed ready to get down to the business of it all. The lobby was busier than I’d previously seen with at least two dozen people cramming into the main elevators on their way to work. Cathy was standing at her usual station and smiling at me from before I even walked through the front glass doors.

“Good morning Cathy.” I said.

“Good morning Miss Beaumont. Mr. Candle is waiting for you in his office. He’ll be pleased you are early.” Cathy said.

“I’ll head right on up then.” I said.

“Very good Ma’am.” Cathy said. “Umm, I mean Miss Beaumont.”

I smiled at her slip and even though I find the word ma’am an irritant I was in a good enough mood to laugh it off. Her face bore an expression akin to worry which took me a moment to figure out. Given the company’s predilection toward handling mistakes, minor and not so minor, with spankings, her worry was understandable. I would never be so mean for a simple slip though even if it did irritate me.

“I supposed I could send you up to HR for a reminder on that, couldn’t I?” I said.

It was supposed to be said with levity but either I failed at it or spanking just isn’t a joking matter at Quondam. Cathy’s face blushed bright red and she stared at my shoes rather than looking me in the eye.

“Yes, of course Miss. I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.”

“I was being facetious Cathy. Please smile and laugh a little. I would never send you or anyone else to HR for something so trivial.”

Her face brightened as she realized I wasn’t angry, but a touch of concern was still apparent.

“You should be careful who hears you say that Miss. There are some who would take advantage if they thought you didn’t have the stomach for maintaining discipline.” She said.

“Not to worry, if anyone tries to take advantage they’ll quickly realize there was no advantage.” I replied.

I slipped into the waiting elevator and pressed the button for Mr. Candle’s floor. The elevator shot upward like a rocket, but this time I was prepared. When the doors opened Mr. Candle had his back to me and was speaking on the phone. Stepping out, I noticed a young lady sitting in the circle of chairs with a laptop open. She barely glanced at me, but I studied her carefully, waiting for Mr. Candle to notice my arrival.

She wore her auburn hair tied back with an unusual clip made of multi-colored wires. Her ears were small and flat with no earrings or even piercing for that matter. It was hard to tell with her sitting down but I estimated she was only of medium height and definitely a petite frame. Her green eyes were focused on the screen in front of her but I had the distinct impression they were fully aware of me as well.

“Good morning Miss West. Come in, please, make yourself comfortable.” Mr. Candle said.

He had hung up the phone and turned to give me his full attention. I was a little surprised at the use of my alias, but then realizing we were not alone, it all fell into place.

“Good morning Sir.” I replied.

I stepped further into the room, my eyes glancing at the young woman and her computer, hoping Mr. Candle would notice and introduce her.

“Coffee?” Mr. Candle asked.

“Yes, please.” I said.

I noticed a steaming cup sitting next to the woman already.

“How do you take it?” He asked.

“Black will be fine.” I said.

“Nonsense. I have a variety of creamers, sugars, and milks. Anything you like can be managed and if I don’t have it I’ll have someone stock it for tomorrow.” He said.

“It’s not necessary I drink it straight most days unless it’s bad.” I said.

“It better not be bad. It was ground fresh this morning, less than fifteen minutes ago.” He said.

“I’m sure it will be fine.”

It seemed a pointless discussion and I couldn’t help but wonder if this young woman sitting there was making him nervous. It had to be her and not me because God knows I’m not intimidating at all. I made my way over to her and sat down in the chair next to her while Mr. Candle poured my cup of coffee. I could get used to starting my days like this. Too bad it will probably never happen again.

Admittedly, I chose my seat to peek at the computer screen, but apparently I was being too obvious. She snapped the laptop closed before my eyes could focus on anything and turned to me with a wolf smile on her face. She extended her hand to me.

“I’m Kyra Jax.” She said. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

The name should have clicked right away, considering she practically saved my life only a few days ago. Instead my brain whirred into overdrive frantically trying to figure out where I knew her name from and it was only her fingertips tapping on the back the laptop which suddenly jogged my memory. I grasped her extended hand with a cautious smile of my own.

“Kyra, a pleasure indeed. I never got a chance to thank you.” I said.

“You did all the hard stuff, I just did my job.” She replied.

Mr. Candle arrived with my coffee about then and a cup of his own which emanated a decidedly hazelnut aroma. I nursed my cup, careful not to burn my fingers or sip too quickly.

“Miss Jax, if you would excuse us and let the rest of the team know we’ll be up in a few minutes.” Mr. Candle said.

“Of course. See you up there V.” Kyra said.

She disappeared into the elevator, leaving me wondering what she had been doing with Mr. Candle before I arrived. Obviously, she hadn’t been waiting around to meet me. Alone with Mr. Candle I decided to give him my full attention.

“I thought the Virginia West alias was just for traveling?” I said.

Mr. Candle took the seat across from me and sipped from his steaming cup, before answering.

“Once you get on the elevator to come up here you are Virginia West until you leave.” Mr. Candle said.

“May I ask why?”

“It’s the way it is. There are rules you must learn to live by and this is one of them. No one in Q5 should ever know your real name. It is as much for your protection as it is for theirs.”

“Are their names aliases as well?” I asked.

“That is none of your concern.”

“If it wasn’t my concern I wouldn’t be asking.” I said.

I sat my cup down on the table and stared at Mr. Candle, hoping he would get the idea I wasn’t going to be easily dissuaded by theatrics. After a moment he surrendered.

“It is not a consistent policy. Aliases are only issued when there are family members to protect.” Mr. Candle said.

“That’s better than nothing but only slightly. Maybe you want to tell me a little bit more about this danger we all seem to be in?” I said.

“Miss West, the danger may not always be apparent but it always exists. I take precautions, perhaps more than are necessary, but when it comes to the safety of my employees I prefer not to take undue risks.”

“All well and good, but you’re avoiding the question.” I said.

“And what question is that?”

“Who are we in danger from?”

“It is not a specific person. These matters are complicated, but it should suffice to say the danger to your wellbeing comes from many directions and many sources, but they all share one thing in common; they are rivals to the Q5 agenda and will stop at nothing to subvert it.”

“It does not suffice. I want real answers Mr. Candle. This Olivia, she said you had stolen something from her employer. Is that true?”

“Q5 seeks out lost treasures. When we find one before our competitors do they have tendency to view that as theft.” Mr. Candle said.

“Is that what Olivia’s employer is doing or did you steal something?” I asked.

Mr. Candle shifted uncomfortably in his seat. It felt vaguely familiar only last time it had been me shifting uncomfortably in the chair. I couldn’t help but glance at the seat warmer switches, but they were all off. Besides, much as I might like to do it myself at the moment, I can’t quite imagine anyone disciplining Mr. Candle.

“It’s possible. The former Q5 leadership was less concerned with ethics and more concerned with success.” Mr. Candle answered.

“Former?”

“Yes, he was killed some weeks ago under unusual circumstances, probably related to his lack of ethics. I was unaware of the situation prior to that, but rest assured the project will not continue down those questionable roads.”

“Is that why I am here?”

“In part but not entirely. You fit with the team and provide an area expertise they are lacking.”

“And what is that?”

“You understand people. Specifically, you understand what motivates them.”

“I’m not that good at it because so far I can’t figure you out.”

“That is by design, Miss West. It would not be appropriate for me to allow you to understand my motivations too clearly at this time.”

“Now you see that makes me think I should be worried about your motivations.”

“I assure you, they are not sinister.”

“I’m sure the devil himself has used that line to great success.”

“In time you will come to understand everything, but right now you are not ready.”

I nodded, expecting that response before he ever uttered the first syllable.

“I’ll work in the dark for now, but I’m not going to wait forever. I want to know the whole story here and if it doesn’t starting coming together I won’t stick around.” I said.

“Perfectly understandable.” Mr. Candle said. “Shall we go meet the rest of the team then?”

“Where do I fit into it?” I asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Am I replacing your former team leader?” I asked.

It was bolder and more direct than I wanted to be, but I needed to know the answer before I started shaking hands with the team. If I was to lead them, I would need to gain their respect from the beginning.

“In a manner of speaking. Being new to the team it would be unwise for me to place you in charge, so naturally I haven’t. However, witnessing your actions last week, I am confident enough in your abilities to place you in the number two spot.”

“What does that mean?”

“You’ll be second in command.”

“I see.”

“Shall we then?” Mr. Candle gestured toward the elevator.

I nodded.

Inside the room marked Q5 on the 32nd floor, Kyra was sitting at the center table with three men standing around her. Projected above the table appeared to be a topographical map of Italy with the area around Venice outlined in a bright red. They all looked at us as we walked toward them. More specifically the men were staring at me and Kyra, oddly enough, was staring at Mr. Candle.

“Good morning everyone. I’d like to introduce the newest member of our team, Miss Virginia West.” Mr. Candle said as we came to a stop on the opposite side of the table from everyone.

The three men nodded. Mr. Candle turned to me.

“You already know Miss Jax. Allow me to introduce Dr. Gene Michaels, Mr. Tom Clark, and Mr. Jack Barker.” Mr. Candle said.

Each extended their hand to me for a brief grip as they were introduced.

Dr. Michaels was a thin, tall man. He was obviously the oldest in the group, with the possible exception of Mr. Candle. The gold rimmed glasses slouched down to the front of his nose were clearly meant for reading and by the amount of fingerprints on the lenses I guessed he didn’t much like wearing them. His graying light brown hair was still thick and full. He kept it brushed to the sides, out of his eyes, but I gathered he considered styling a nuisance. His soft eyes hinted at a gentle soul, but they were slightly intimidating by the manner in which he seemed to be looking straight through me.

Tom Clark was about what I expected. Ex-military all the way from his buzz cut short fuzz of an excuse for hair to his shining black leather dress boots. He wore his black suit like a uniform and I bet you could balance dictionaries on his broad shoulders. By the fit of his jacket I could tell his biceps were nearly the size of my thighs and when I shook his hand it was like sandpaper in a vise. His eyes said one thing clearly from the moment I walked into the room; He didn’t like me, not even a little bit. I guess that’s to be expected after the way I snapped at him on the phone.

Then there was Jack Barker. He was tall with a good muscular build. Dark brown hair, soft blue eyes, and if he had an English accent he could have been James Bond. His hands were soft like Dr. Michaels, but it was his eyes I couldn’t stop thinking about. Well that and just how good he’d look without a shirt on. For just a moment I was alone on a beach with him and his lips were all over my body, softly caressing every inch of me.

“Miss West?” Jack said.

I nearly jumped out of my skin. He’d caught me staring and all my blood rushed to my face with the irrational thought that he somehow knew exactly what I’d been thinking. I coughed trying to mask my embarrassment but it probably just drew more attention to it.

“Yes? I’m sorry I was thinking about something else.” I said.

“I’ll let it go this time, but when you’re in here, I expect you to be focused.” Jack said.

My embarrassment almost got the better of me as I very nearly asked him who the hell he thought he was. Fortunately I kept it to myself and threw a quick quizzical glance at Mr. Candle.

“Mr. Barker is the team leader. You’ll be working under his direct supervision. Mr. Clark is our tactical specialist. Miss Jax is our resident techie and Dr. Michaels is our resident expert on ancient artifacts.” Mr. Candle said.

I nodded my understanding and turned my attention back to Jack Barker. There were definitely worse bosses to have, but just because he’s easy on the eyes doesn’t make him a good one. He clearly had a short fuse for some reason or another.

“Your office is to the left at the top of the stairs on the right.” Mr. Barker said.

“Thank you. Is there something specific I should be doing?” I asked.

“Gene, get Miss West everything we’ve got on the compass. We have an assignment to locate a fancy compass Miss West. Gene and Kyra can get you up to speed. I want an assessment by the end of the day.” Mr. Barker said.

He didn’t wait for acknowledgements, he just walked away to what was clearly his own office. I gathered he was testing me before he decided whether or not to like me. Obviously, there was something though, because he didn’t use my first name like he did with everyone else. I’m not sure what it really means, but I’m sure it means something.

I gave a last glance at Mr. Candle who merely shrugged and smiled. I took my leave walking toward what was my office. It was one of the two larger ones I had noticed on my first visit. At the time I had expected to end up in one of the small ones on the other side.

“You can’t seriously think she’s cut out for this Joe?” Tom said.

His voice was hushed in a whisper and I’m sure he didn’t expect me to hear from inside my office. I sat down at my desk pretending I hadn’t.

“This is not a military operation Mr. Clark and I will not have it run like one. Miss West may be young but she is definitely the right person for the job. You better get used to it because like it or not you‘re going to be working for her.” Mr. Candle replied.

Measuring Up: Surprise, Surprise

I am fairly certain when I went to sleep I was alone, but when I woke up there was a boy on top of me. He kissed my sore eye at least twice which greatly contributed to my waking. The late afternoon sunlight pouring in through my open widow didn’t help much either. I blinked away my dreams and focused in on reality.

“Wake up Auntie!” Geoff said.

He was sitting on my chest which was fortunately still beneath the comforter because I had gone to sleep without so much as a stitch on my body. Geoff’s enthusiasm was contagious and I smiled up at him, happy to see him. A little warning would have been nice before a visit but family is always welcome.

I glanced at my alarm clock to get an idea of the time, 5:15. I looked back Geoff and then noticed his mother was leaning against the doorframe looking at the two of us with a mother’s amusement. I groaned for effect and yawned.

“My God, it’s so early! What are you doing up at this time?” I said.

Geoff’s little face flushed full of amusement as he determined he knew something I did not.

“But Auntie, it’s almost time for dinner.” He squealed.

“It couldn’t be.” I said.

“It is. It is. Honest.” He replied.

“Oh no, it just couldn’t be.” I said.

“No it is, it is. You have to get up!” He said.

“Just five more minutes?” I pleaded.

“No, Grandma says you slept the whole day away. You have to get up now.”

“Are you sure?” I asked.

Geoff’s head shook emphatically proving he was indeed quite sure.

“Get up. Get up. Daddy’s taking us to dinner!” He said.

I pinched his arm lightly and looked into his bright, glowing eyes.

“Oh, I don’t think that’s right.” I said.

“But it is! Daddy said we’re celebrating.”

“It’s not my birthday. Is it yours?”

“No.”

“Then what could we possibly be celebrating?”

“Mommy says you finally got a job.”

“Oh that.”

“You gotta get up.”

“Well then you better take you Mom downstairs so I can.”

“Grandma said I have to make sure you don’t go back to sleep.”

“If I promise to get up will you trust me?”

“I will.”

“I promise then.”

“Okay.” He said.

He wrapped his little arms around my neck and kissed my cheek once more. I squeezed him back and sent him on his way with his mother.

“Tell them I’ll be down in a few minutes.” I said to Jenny.

A fast shower with a quick glance in the mirror to see how red my butt remained, and then I threw on jeans and a tee accompanied by leather sandals. My hair twisted nicely into butterfly clip on my way down the stairs. I could hear my older brother complaining all the way. It was nothing new, he always got annoyed waiting on me, even when we were little.

“Steve! Nobody told me you were coming over.” I said.

I reached the bottom of the stairs, all smiles and wrapped my arms around him in a big hug. He always pulls away like I might give him cooties and I never tire of making him just a little uncomfortable.

“If you’d gotten out of bed someone might have told you.” Mom answered for him.

I bit my tongue to avoid another incident with Mom and Dad. The last thing I needed was to show my six year old nephew that auntie wasn’t too big to have her bottom paddled. Fortunately Stephen and Jenny changed the subject without harping on my late sleeping.

“We were just so excited when your Mom called with the news about your position with Quondam. It sounds fantastic and with such a large company there must be plenty of room for advancement.” Jenny said.

“Yes, I am so very proud of you. Seems like you finally are growing up and getting over your childish aversions.” Steve added.

“Thanks. I am pretty excited.” I replied.

I decided to ignore the maturity jabs in my brother’s backhanded compliment. He’s really a lot like Dad except he got Mom’s sarcastic tongue. Jenny of course was being purely honest and I could tell she was genuinely happy for me without the qualifications my family seemed to feel were necessary.

“Well I thought we would take you out to dinner in celebration. I know Mom and Dad thought this day would never come, but I always knew you had it in you.” Steve said.

“Mom and Dad have been pretty supportive these days, I know it took a lot longer than anyone thought it should and despite that, Mom and Dad never gave up encouraging me.” I replied.

Jenny blushed a little because she knew exactly what I meant by “encouraging”. Little Geoff was of course oblivious and that was the whole point. Stephen had his usual self-satisfied smirk on his face. He’s always thought of himself as better than me and the fact I still get my pants taken down by Dad only helps his interpretation.

“Are we all ready now?” Steve asked.

A round of nods indicated we were and so we piled into Dad’s van with Steve driving. Dad never lets me drive the van, not that I typically want to, but there have been times it would have been nice. I sat in the back with Geoff next to me and Jenny on the other side of him. Geoff was excited and I understandably so because other than a few special occasions each year, he doesn’t get to eat out.

“So, where are we going?” I asked.

“You’ll find out when we get there.” Steve replied.

I stuck my tongue out at him. Geoff laughed as did Jenny. Mom slapped my hand and scowled at me. I rolled my eyes. She wagged a finger and shook her head. It was just like old times except for the fact Steve was driving instead of Dad.

The restaurant turned out to be a favorite of Steve and Jenny’s. Fancy Italian cuisine is not really my thing, but a free meal is a free meal. Then again I had an economics professor who insisted there is no such thing as a free lunch or in this case a free dinner. So far, I’ve yet to prove him wrong.

To say I was surprised then when a nice man looking to be in his late twenties joined us at the table, would be something of an overstatement. He obviously knew Steve and Jenny quite well, but his eyes were all over me from the second he approached.

“You must be Allison. I’ve heard so much about you.” He said.

A thousand responses ran through my head and not one of them would pass my parents without incurring some form of reproach later. I settled on a nod and a forced smile. Being setup on what was supposed to be a celebratory dinner for my new job, was bordering on insulting. Oh forget it, it wasn’t bordering at all, it was just plain bad taste and extremely insulting.

“I’m sure it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance but unfortunately I haven’t been told a thing about you.” I said.

The smile faded from his lips and his eyes grew a bit dull. He’d obviously gone to a bit of trouble to impress me. His hair was not just combed but styled neatly back on his head. His attire easily fit into the business casual category, but he wore it stiffly like one might a tuxedo. Everything about him screamed out how hard he was trying to make a good impression. I should have been flattered.

Steve shot me a look to kill, but I stared him down with one of my own. He had the good sense to let it go without words. Everyone was uncomfortable except for Geoff. He was oblivious to it all and just excited to have a crayon in his hand and a table setting to draw on. Watching him, made me wish I was six again.

To his credit, the young man didn’t turn and run but rather stood his ground. I might have like him in different circumstances, but being blindsided hadn’t left me in a receptive mood. For a half minute I wished I could let loose a little and handle the situation the way I might have back at camp. Of course nobody there was going to set me up on a date.

“I’m Mark.” He said.

He decided to sit down across from me although I’d bet it was a close toss on finding a bar stool instead.

“And so you are, someone might have had the courtesy to introduce you, but I guess that would be asking too much.” I said.

“I don’t want to intrude. I can leave if you’d prefer.” He offered.

“I wouldn’t want to be rude. Stay of course, be comfortable.”

He let out a nervous chuckle. It was endearing and pissed as I was at my brother and his wife, I couldn’t stay mad at Mark. He really hadn’t done anything wrong.

“So what awful thing did you do to end up here?” I asked.

“I’m not too sure, but I’ll be checking on that later.” He said.

“I’d be very interested to hear.”

“I’m sure you would.”

“Not to change the subject, but to change the subject…I hear congratulations are in order.” Mark said.

I paused a moment considering his awkward manner.

“Thanks. It’s been a long time coming as you’ve know doubt heard.”

“Yes, but these are hard times. You shouldn’t be ashamed.”

My still sore bottom says otherwise, but we probably shouldn’t get into that conversation.

“I’m not ashamed, just disappointed I couldn’t find work in a more glamorous field.”

“Administration is important. Companies would fall apart without them.”

“I suppose they might. May I ask what it is you do?”

“I’m a Web Consultant. Essentially that means I build and maintain websites.”

“Self employed?” Dad asked.

I rolled my eyes as the obvious insinuation in Dad’s tone. He sees little difference between the self employed and the unemployed. Apparently, in his view of the world, people who work for themselves are just people who are too lazy or too incompetent to work for others.

“Yes, Mr. Beaumont. I’ve been running my company since second year of college and I’ve managed to grow into a full time career.” Mark said.

“Mark designed my company’s web presence last year.” Steve added.

“Is it steady work?” Dad asked.

“Not at all. Everything comes in waves which is why I’ve had to hire extra help.”

“I can’t imagine you’d make much money doing that.” Dad said.

“You’d be surprised.” Mark said.

I liked the way he avoided a specific answer while implying he made lots.

“I think we can stop with the third degree.” I said.

“It’s quite alright.” Mark said.

“Maybe for you, but this was supposedly a celebration and it’s feeling anything but one at the moment.” I said.

“You’re right.” Jenny said.

It would be nice to think, my word alone would have sufficed but it was clear to me that it was Jenny’s word that made the difference. From there on the evening went pleasant enough and while I can’t say I’d ever have talked to Mark as a stranger, he wasn’t that bad of a guy. I even agreed to see him again. Hopefully, everyone is happy.

Measuring Up: No Place Like Home

All I wanted to do was sleep. Two hours on a plane might not seem like much to you, but spend a week away at a camp where they make you rise before the sun and then we’ll talk. Of course what I want and what I get don’t seem to have much in common lately. If I really wanted to stay awake I’d bet good money I’d come down with an incurable case of narcolepsy.

I shouldn’t have been surprised when upon boarding the plane I was immediately recognized as the mystery woman from the morning’s paper. It wasn’t the most flattering image, grayscale, a little blurry and really focused in on my massively swollen eye. The story was only slightly better as it exaggerated my role in rescuing the survival camp from an unidentified terrorist group.

Apparently, I’m a two gun toting badass able to leap tall buildings, and razor wire fences, in a single bound. The half dozen shots I remember taking were obviously only a small portion of the hundreds of rounds I fired, holding off two dozen terrorists for more than an hour as state police raced to the scene. The fact that the state police had a dispatch station less than 30 minutes away was conveniently missing.

I guess I should be happy the story stopped short of putting me in a red cape and gold bracelets, although the ridiculous picture did make it appear my shorts were adorned with white stars. It was probably a trick of the light but I wouldn’t put it passed Gina to have photo-shopped them in.

A young woman kept looking at her copy of the paper and then pointing at me while talking to her boyfriend. He had the good sense to look embarrassed for her at least and I almost felt sorry for him. I sat down and she stopped walking right next to my seat, staring down at me as if there were a one-way mirror between us. I smiled and waved up at her.

“It’s not me.” I said.

She looked incredulous. Her boyfriend tried to pull her away with an apologetic smile in my direction.

“It has to be. You look just like her.” She said.

“I’m flattered, but really, it’s not me.”

“But, but you have the same black eye!” She said.

“Mine wasn’t earned in such a glorious fashion. I was out drinking last night and managed to walk right into a light post. It stood its ground and I landed on the ground.” I said.

“I don’t believe you. You are her, I know it.” She said.

“If I was her, do you really think I’d put up with your obnoxious behavior?”

Her face paled slightly and her brow furrowed as she studied me closer.

“I was mistaken. The woman in the paper is obviously much younger than you.” She said.

I guess I was supposed to be insulted. I yawned, leaned my seat back, and closed my eyes, remembering one of Cherise’s better pieces of advice, “Don’t feed the trolls.”

It wasn’t long before footsteps assured me of her retreat. Sleep was nearly mine, but of course it was not to be. A gentle tap on my shoulder I might have ignored but the firm grip made my eyes flash open, half expecting Olivia’s pierced mug to be leering over me. It was not, but the elderly woman dressed in flight attendant blue was nearly as bad.

“That looks awful! Can I get you some ice?” She queried.

Because ice makes everything better or at least grandmothers all seem to think so. I count myself fortunate she didn’t offer me a raw steak, although come to think of it, I was hungry.

“No, need to trouble yourself. I’ll just take a nap.” I replied.

“It’s no trouble dear. I’ll be right back with it.” She said.

She was gone before I could object again. I sighed and resigned myself to a cold day in hell, non-stop to Los Angeles.

Naturally, I was in a mood by the time I exited the limousine at home. I had my sunglasses on, a heavy bag in hand and one thought on my mind as I walked through the front door. Talking with Mom and Dad was not the thought but apparently it was a staple on the agenda.

“Welcome home.” Dad said.

“How was your week?” Mom asked.

I glanced at the stairs, longing to climb them and collapse on my bed for what was left of the weekend. I tugged my sunglasses off and smiled, giving my best effort at politeness. Mom inhaled sharply and Dad’s grin turned into a scowl. Then I remembered my eye.

“It was educational.” I said. “How was yours?”

It was a ridiculous attempt to avoid the obvious question and it was ignored as such.

“What on earth happened to your eye?” Mom asked.

“Obviously she was hit.” Dad said. “Care to explain yourself young lady?”

Dad’s tone was hinting at some personal responsibility for my black eye. The assumption seemed rather unfair, but then the last time I came home with a black eye it was with a police escort. No charges were pressed, but the officers had taken the time to explain in excruciating detail just how events had unfolded. They had left no doubt as to who was responsible for my black eye, it was inarguably me. That this time might be different seems to not have occurred to Dad.

“There isn’t much to tell.” I said. “One of the other girls got jealous of me and whacked me with a hairdryer.”

“And I’m sure you did nothing to provoke her.” Mom said.

“Thanks for the support Mom.” I said.

“Don’t you dare talk to your Mother in that tone.” Dad’s stern voice boomed.

“It wasn’t my fault. I didn’t even retaliate.” I said.

“Women don’t just walk up to other women and hit them with hairdryers because they are jealous.” Mom stated.

“The competition was tough and she didn’t like me in the first place. I guess when I foiled her plans to come out on top she just snapped.” I said. “By the way, not that you care, but I’m fine.”

Dad snapped his fingers right in front of my face like one might to get a dog’s attention. I felt like barking. His expression was far from amused though and I thought I’d better shut up before I dug myself a grave with my tongue alone.

“What did I just tell you about speaking to your Mother?” Dad asked.

I sucked my lips in and chose silence over another indignant oral response. The secret to surviving a father with a paddle in the closet is knowing when to shut your trap. You’d think I’d have figured it out by now, but there are days I still manage to get it wrong.

“Am I talking to myself here?” Dad asked.

Mom crossed her arms in front of her chest and glared at me.

“No, sir.” I said.

My head tipped down while I felt like I just couldn’t win.

“Then what did I tell you about speaking to your Mother?” Dad repeated.

I ground my teeth before being able to force the expected answer out.

“To watch my tone.” I said.

“You leave home for a week and come back with an attitude bigger than the house. I won’t tolerate it so do yourself a favor and lose it right now before I do it for you. Understood?” Dad said.

I nodded my affirmation. He scowled at me with disappointed eyes that told me I’d better put a voice to my gesture.

“Yes, sir.” I said.

“Good, now without the attitude, explain to me why you are standing here with a black eye.” Dad ordered.

I debated the assortment of lies I could tell him. Most of them were completely lacking in credibility and the one he’d believe the most would spell trouble for me without any doubt. For a single insane moment I was tempted to pull out the newspaper in my bag and tell my parents the whole story.

Then I remembered the look on Gina’s face, the tears streaming down, when a man I didn’t even know aimed a gun at her. He had every intention of ending her life because of me and she was just unlucky enough to end up in a training camp with me. What would these people do to my parents if they found them? I knew the answer and for the first time I knew Mr. Candle was right when he suggested I keep my parents in the dark.

“I got in a fight at school.” I said.

Mom and Dad both nodded. It was what they wanted to hear and so they believed it.

“What was it about?” Mom asked.

“Nothing. It was stupid. I don’t even remember.” I said.

“I’m guessing since you lied about it you do remember what happened last time though.” Dad said.

I nodded.

“I don’t think I need to tell you how disappointed we are.” Dad said.

I shook my head.

Mom and Dad managed to look disgusted and nod at the same time.

“Go get the paddle.” Dad ordered.

I hesitated a moment wondering if I could pull off amnesia on account of being hit in the head. Rather than risk making things worse though, I started walking for the closet underneath the stairs. The paddle hung on a hook on the left side and it always sways a little as if taunting me when I open the door. I lifted it off the hook, closed the door and trudged back to Mom and Dad with the heavy wood, carried limp in my hand. I stared at the ground, beaten, and the paddle had yet to be raised.

“You know the drill.” Dad said.

Black and Decker or Dewalt? Oh you mean the routine where I drop my shorts, bare my ass and bend over something so you have a good target to swing at. Silly me.

I rolled my eyes at the floor, careful enough that Dad wouldn’t notice, but I caught a glimpse of Mom. Her face wasn’t exactly approving, but she was nice enough to keep it to herself. My fingers found their way to the button on my shorts. A quick glance at Dad confirmed a last minute reprieve was off the table and a moment later my shorts were being worn like socks. Rather than delaying the inevitable, my panties quickly joined them.

My hands took up residence as fig leaves while Mom and Dad pretended to ignore the half naked daughter standing before them. I glanced around wondering if it would be the sofa or the coffee table I was destined to lean over. Meanwhile, the grandfather clock earned its name with an eternity passing between its ticks and tocks.

“Over the side of the sofa.” Dad ordered.

I looked at the far side of the couch, only three or four inches out from the wall, and longed for the courage to actually bend over that side. Of course, Dad would not find it amusing, at least not while I am in the room. I moved to the closer side of the sofa and laid myself over it like a rug, ready for dusting.

The first swat followed less than a tock but more than a tick later. I groaned in instant discomfort and noted rather wearily that the three or four inches between the sofa and wall were no more. A second swat confirmed the fact when my butt flattened and then sprang back at Dad with a hot fire burning just below the surface.

“Ow!” I hollered.

Dad swung harder. My hips ground into the side of the sofa, but there was no place to go. I balled my hands into fists and gave up fighting the tears that demanded to spring from eyes. Dad swung again and again, allowing only the briefest of pauses between impacts. I could feel his disappointment through the wood, jarring its way from wobbly flesh to stubborn brain.

I cried. I wanted to tell the truth as if it could somehow ease the burning pain or shame. Somehow I found the strength to endure in some semblance of silence. The last stroke fell and I sobbed unabashedly into the cushion my head was resting upon. I raised myself slowly and turned to face my parents. All thoughts of modesty were dashed as my hands had only a forbidden desire to rub away the heat behind me. Instead, I jumped in place and shook my hands in the air before me as if I could fan enough of a breeze to put out the fire.

Dad pointed at the corner behind me.

“Hands on your head and don’t even think about moving until I tell you.” Dad said.

I shuffled to the solitude of white walls awaiting me. My head rested against the paint while my hands interlaced together on top of my head in an all too familiar pose. I was just tired enough to feel numb though and while it should have been a time for contemplation and consideration, it was not. I stood their dozing, basking in the warmth and content to be home.