Just One of the Guys(82)

“I do not know, Miss Davies, but I did get you a present.” I’ve become so fond of Angela…she’s quietly funny, consistently good at her job, and always seems open to doing something after work. Just last weekend, when Ryan had to cancel due to an emergency surgery (branch versus bowel), she came over and we watched Return of the King, both of us commenting on the sexist slant of the movie as we ogled the men. Now, I reach in my desk and hand her a bumper sticker.

“‘What Would Aragorn Do?’ I love it!” she cries. “Where do you find these?”

“She spends way too much time on geek sites on the Internet, right Chas?” Pete from advertising says, taking a bite of a bagel.

“That’s right, Pete. Hey, do you know where Lucia is? Are we having the staff meeting without her?”

“That would be a first,” Pete comments, turning on his computer.

“Chastity? I need to see you, please,” Penelope calls, sticking her head out of her office.

Oh, crap. This can’t be good. Alan is already seated, and both their faces are grave. My heart bucks—has someone broken through my firewalls? More  p**n  on the Web site? Am I about to be fired?

“Hi,” I say tentatively.

“Have a seat, Chastity,” Penelope says. I glance at Alan, who stares at the floor.

“What’s going on?” I ask, my heart thudding with dread.

“Look at this,” Pen says, shoving a piece of paper at me.

It’s the police blotter, the report of crimes committed over the past week. The Eaton Falls Gazette runs it regularly; it’s public information, after all, and a guilty pleasure for people to check out the misadventures of their fellow citizens. I scan it, but nothing leaps out. I’m relieved. I thought maybe there was something about an O’Neill in there.

“Fourth one down,” Alan mutters.

I look. Theodore Everly, 42, solicitation of a prostitute. “Who’s Theodore—oh. Oh, crap.”

“Teddy Bear,” Alan confirms.

“Oh, crap,” I repeat.

“A male prostitute,” Penelope whispers.

My heart sinks. “Poor Lucia. No wonder she’s not in.”

“The question is, should we run it?” Penelope asks both Alan and me. “It is public record. We’ve never edited the police blotter before, but…”

“It’s really your call, Alan,” I say, gratefully passing the buck. “Crap. I don’t know.”

“Great,” Alan says. He makes a face at me, flashing the tooth, but I’ve grown used to it and it barely freaks me out anymore.

At that moment, the door opens, and Lucia sticks her head in, her face its usual funeral mask of makeup. Her eyes are red. “Staff meeting in ten,” she announces.

“Lucia! Hi! How are you?” Penelope stands up. “Come in! Sit down! Um, uh, would you like coffee?”

Lucia enters, and with four of us in Pen’s cramped office, I’m close enough to get a contact high off Lucia’s hairspray and perfume. I get out of my chair and offer it to her. “Have a seat, Lucia,” I say. She narrows her eyes at me and remains standing. Penelope and Alan exchange an uneasy glance. Alan begins.

“Um, Lucia, are you aware that…see, this morning’s police blot—”

“Am I aware that my fiancé was arrested for buying sex from a man? Yes, Alan, I’m aware.”

Okay, well, that settles the question of if she knew. “We were just discussing whether or not to—” Pen starts.

“Run it. I don’t care. It’s not my problem, is it?”

“Lucia,” Penelope says gently, “we’re all really sorry about this.”

“Save it, okay?” Lucia snaps. “Are we having a staff meeting or not?”

“Um, yes, sure, we will. Sure. Okay.” Penelope tips her head to one side. “Lu, are you sure you don’t want to take the day off or anything?”

“Why? So I can sell my wedding dress on eBay?”

Pen takes a deep breath. “Okay. Staff meeting in ten.”

Lucia turns a hateful glare on me. “Chastity, can I see you privately?”

“Um, sure,” I say.

“Use my office,” Pen says, leaping for the door. “Alan, let’s discuss the story on the garbage strike, okay?”

They abandon me with breathtaking speed. “I’m sorry for your…situation, Lucia,” I say tentatively.

“You knew, didn’t you?” she hisses. “You knew Teddy Bear was g*y.”

My face grows hot. “Well, you know, I—I don’t really know Teddy Bear, so—”

“He said you saw him! When he was with a man one night. You rode your bike right past them!”

I run a hand through my hair. “Yeah. I did.”

“Could you tell? That he was, you know…gay?”

I wince. “Well…I…it looked kind of…romantic.”

“And you didn’t say anything? I can’t believe that, Chastity!”

“Look, Lucia,” I say in what I hope is a calming voice. “I suspected. That was all. I don’t really know you that well.”

“So you just let me go on being engaged to a fag.” She jams her fists into her hips, shaking with rage.