“The cubicles have been very quiet since you left,” she said, finally taking a sip of her drink. “Even now after we’ve filled a couple entry level positions, people still keep to themselves. Everyone walks around with a scared look in their eye, like we’re not out of it just yet.”
Bruce could tell she was one of those people. He hadn’t kept up with the financial world since Hadley had axed him, but there was still a steady flow of new neighbors in the park to replace those who had succumbed to the elements.
“There’s no brash hotshot, marching down the hallways, boasting to everyone that they’re the king of Hadley?” he asked, hoping to change her perspective on the bleak state of Hadley to a fond memory.
It seemed to work. Through her misty eyes, he saw a glimmer of nostalgia. A smile soon followed.
“No,” she said, before taking another sip. “You’re still a legend around there. No one will dare try to fill your shoes.”
For a moment, it looked like she was about to add something. Then her face crumbled in on itself, turning crimson as she did her best to hold it all together.
“The tales about you might even survive after Hadley shuts the doors for good.”
The broke the damn.
Bruce was cradling her head against his shoulder a moment later, stroking her lightly on the back. He buried the thought about after all those years working with her finally being able to embrace her.
“You’re going to land on your feet,” he assured her. “Companies are always looking for good people in Human Resources and you’re one of the best. Besides, like you said, Darwin’s got a job now, so that’ll hold you over for a while.”
Miranda pulled back, wiping the flow of tears from her eyes as she nodded. “I know. It’s just…all the signs are there. The people we let go are being replaced by kids fresh out of college just so we can operate as cheaply as possible. Every month, management is cutting costs somewhere. I’ve already dusted off my resume and have gone on a couple interviews, it’s just…
“Ugh, what’s the matter with me?” she decried. “I’m making you listen to how shitty my life is right now!”
“You’ll be fine,” he insisted. “You’re already being proactive about it. You’re not going to be blindsided like I was. I’m not worried about you making it safely to the other side.”
Bruce could tell she still needed convincing.
“Some of our other colleagues though,” he stared. “Is Bill Werner still there?” He waited for her to nod. “Good. Because I don’t think he’d last ten seconds if he was unemployed. Do you remember the time he was calling up I.T. all morning bitching about how his computer wouldn’t start, only he kept calling the travel unit by mistake?”
That got her laughing. “And when he finally called the right number,” she jumped in, “they asked if his computer was plugged in?”
“And then they wanted to know why he’d unplugged it the night before, and he didn’t want to tell them it was because he’d been charging his phone.”
While she was recovering from her laughing fit, Bruce thought up another anecdote from their time at Hadley. They spoke of was and when, of happier times, and cherished memories.
Miranda kept reminding him he could have more drinks if he wanted, but he still kept his total low. It wasn’t until she got a call from Darwin asking if everything was alright that they realized three hours had flown by.
“Sorry again about bemoaning my own problems,” she said as they walked out of the bar. “After what you—”
“It’s okay,” he waved off her apology. “It’s…oddly…made me feel…good.”
“Really?” she asked, flashing him a quizzical look.
“For the first time in…I don’t know how long…I’ve done something other than wallow in self-pity. I was actually able to help.”
It felt odd to say, but he said it anyway. “Thank you, Miranda.”
“For what?”
“For making me feel like the big shot I used to be.”