Lost and Found (Growing Pains #1)(61)

The record screeched off the track in her head. Firstly, had she been singing and talking to herself?

Judge’s ruling? Yes, she probably had.

Next question: Was he spying, or was someone else checking up on her? She hadn’t seen Jacob in a while. That was a sobering thought.

Or was he getting the information from his old Research chums? Which meant she was loud enough that they all heard her at the other end of their department. All good questions. All also very daunting.

Rather than ask about it, she played it cool. No reason to get worked up that her embarrassing little quirk was common knowledge. If she let on that she was disturbed, then she would look guilty or paranoid. Which she was, but that was a secret.

“Definitely, but it was always nice to get a good chorus going. Now I have to carry it all myself!” She feigned being put out.

Marcus laughed in glee. “Girl, you just bring it down here and I’ll give you a little bass when you need it!”

Okay, business time; Krista was getting antsy. She still had a mound of work to get to. The problem was, talking shop seemed so taboo when dealing with Marcus that Krista thought she better ease into it with a little “Office Space” humor.

She really hoped he’d seen the movie, or else this would be more embarrassing than singing to herself…

“Will do. Say, listen, I need to talk to you about your TPS reports…”

As hoped, Marcus leaned back in his chair and guffawed. He slapped his desk and wiped a fake tear from his eye. “A woman after my own heart. I LOVE that movie. LOVE it. Okay, little Miss Workaholic, what can I do for you?”

“Okay, well I‘ve gone about as far as possible on your ‘wouldn’t it be nice …’ list. I’ve hit a couple snags.”

“Just a couple? Most of the stuff I come up with isn’t even remotely doable. But it’s nice to know you’re trying, math-geek mine.”

“I wouldn’t be a proper Fairy Godmother if I didn’t work the impossible, right? Okay, the thing is that the last couple ideas might be doable, but it’s lost in the translation. I am going to need you to go over it again.”

“No problemo. Only thing is, I spit out new ideas so often that I lose track of the old ones.”

“Just call me a spittoon. Said spittoon knows how to write things down and keep track of them.” She pointedly looked at his paper-strewn desk. He just shrugged. “So I will read back what I have, hopefully spark your mental pistons, and you just let it rip again. Will that work?”

“Yes, ma’am. Fire away!” He actually sounded impressed that this could be done. The guy didn’t write down much, it seemed.

Krista read back her notes exactly as she had written them down, daring to push a couple pieces of paper toward a couple others that were similar. When she’d gotten the idea out, and had found some clear desk, which helped her mental state, Marcus’s eyes lit up with remembrance.

“Yes!” he said enthusiastically. “That was a good idea. Wouldn’t it be nice if we could do that, but …”

Krista was ready this time. She took notes frantically, trying to catch every last word he spit out that might help the translation factor. They went on to the next idea, then the next. There were four in all, and by the time they reached the fourth she was completely done in.

She straightened painfully from her crouch.

“No more,” she shook her head and held up her hands. “No more of your insanity. My geek brain can’t handle such an extended tour into your art brain. It gives me a headache.”

Marcus sobered for a moment as he looked up at her. “You’re really working on making these ideas happen, huh?”

Krista’s confusion seeped into her features. Distractedly, she picked up a few stray pens and pencils and put them in a holder. “Uh, yeah. Why? Is that wrong?”

“From what I understand, no. I just haven’t seen it happen before. Your kind doesn’t really communicate well with my kind. Mine can never seem to get our goals across to yours, and yours never seems able to focus our creative direction with your pencils and notepads.”

She straightened the pile of printed pictures at the edge of his desk. “Oh. Well, in truth, I’m not so much ‘my kind’ as the normal gal, but no, I still don’t have the foggiest as to what you’re talking about most of the time. Actually, it all sounds great when I hear it from your mouth, makes perfect sense when you say it, but it just isn’t the kind of thing I can turn into a search and destroy mission, you know? Too much chaos.”

“Then why bother with all the notes if you can’t get the end result?”

“I said it was all Greek to me. Just so happens I have a roommate who speaks art and logic. He is my decoder ring for all this hogwash.” She nodded toward her notes before straightening a framed photograph.

Marcus had his smile back, “Cheater.”

Krista stepped forward slightly with a smile. She helped another couple loose papers find their home as she said, “Cheat to win, Marcus ol’ boy. Cheat to win.”

With that she left the Hub, her mind whirling in confusion. She decided just to cut out early, get some of Ben’s favorite takeout, and offer a bribe for the latest round of much-needed help.

As she rounded the green wall of plants, she heard, “When did that woman find time to clean my desk? She’s a genie. Julie—this is magical, come look at how clean my desk is!”