Page 13 of The Revenge Agenda

“Well, this is Carey,” Ted says, trying to get us out of this weirdness. “Carey, this is Hunter, your department head.”

“Ah, yes. I got that.”

Hunter’s jaw tics. “If you’re done playing hide-and-seek, maybe you could get to work cleaning up your cluttered desk.”

Cluttered? I turn to look at my workstation, trying to see if anything is out of place. I’ve got the usual reminder Post-its around my screen, a bottle of water for hydration, half-finished coffee for brains, and emotional support peach iced tea for a boost. My “later” pile is in place, desk calendar tucked away under my keyboard, and noise-canceling headphones sitting right beside them.

Maybe that’s the problem.

I should probably put them away when I’m not using them. So I do.

“Better?”

He scowls. “What about the trash? The food?” He points at my line of carefully placed M&Ms.

“They’re my reminders.”

“What?”

“I have ten jobs to do today,” I explain patiently, like I haven’t had to run this through with every second person in the office. “For each job, I eat an M&M. If there’s still any left over when I’m done, it means I’ve forgotten something.”

“Or you’ve forgotten to eat one.”

I try to work out if he’s joking. “They’re chocolate. You don’t forget to eat chocolate.”

Hunter’s eyes inch narrower. “Is this some kind of hazing of the new guy?”

“Rush is, uh, eccentric,” Autumn cuts in.

I frown at her. “I’m not eccentric. You’re eccentric.”

“I’m not the one with a line of candy on my desk.”

I give her a pointed look. “Exactly.”

“Why can’t you use a list?” Hunter asks. “Or anything that won’t attract ants?”

“Do you know that ants are arguably one of the most intelligent insects? If I see one, I simply move it before it gets a chance to notify the rest of the worker ants. I always worry the poor things won’t find their way back to the colony, but I figure the trash outside is as kind a place to put it as any.” They’re not going to worry about my M&Ms if they have a full food source available for them. The guilt kills me though. Could you imagine their mothers being all, “Anton went out to work and never came home”? Poor things. “Imagine if ants had little mini funerals? And little mini bow ties?” I snigger over the thought, making a mental note for Molly to draw something up for me later.

Hunter doesn’t answer, and his long silence confirms my suspicions. Poor guy is neurotypical. I bet he’s never looked up ants once in his life.

“Never mind,” I say, sparing him the embarrassment for his lack of knowledge. “I’ll get back to work, then, shall I?”

I drop into my chair and wake my computer up, inspecting the candies on my desk. There are only eight left. Which means I’ve done two jobs and have a suspicious feeling that I was about to complete one more. Or had I already completed it when I spotted Hunter and threw myself on the floor?

“I’ll see you all tonight,” Hunter says stiffly, and his abrupt voice behind me makes me jump. He stalks off, Ted following behind him, and I eye his suit, sure it’s as fancy as the coat that Xander smuggled from me.

I lean over toward Autumn. “What’s tonight?”

“Drinks. And you’re coming because I know you never have plans, and if you do, you’ve already forgotten about them.”

I sink into my chair. “I have Monopoly Monday?—”

“It’s Tuesday.”

It is? I check the calendar on my computer, and it turns out she’s right. Well, fuck. There goes that excuse.

“Well, I … there must be something …”

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