Page 38 of Work with Me

“Wow. Okay, sure. Tuesdays we play Bunco at his church, and Thursdays we catch the new release at the movie theater.”

“See?” I pointed at her barely contained smile. “I knew it.”

“Sorry, another bad guess. Though…” She bit her lip.

“What?” A hint had practically slipped out of Alicia’s lockbox. Giddy anticipation made me hold my breath. She’d said her twice-weekly commitment wasn’t a date. I was more relieved than I should’ve been.

“Nothing.”

“A hint. A tiny one.”

She considered for a moment, scanning my face. “Nope.”

“Oh, come on.” I flopped back in my chair.

“How’s your code coming along?”

I hated that she’d changed the subject, but this was why I’d asked her to lunch. “I’ve run into a snag.”

“Oh?” She squeezed another lemon into her tea and used a long teaspoon to stir it, the ice clinking.

“Yeah.” I briefly described the issue to her, then all the things I’d checked and all the methods I’d tried to fix it. “Any idea what could be going on?”

She opened her mouth to speak but then looked over my shoulder and smiled. Our waitress set down a huge platter of enchiladas, beans, and rice in front of me and a paper-lined basket of tacos in front of Alicia.

I picked up my fork and cut off a corner of the leftmost enchilada. Chicken, spinach, and creamy white cheese sauce. Delicious.

Across the table, Alicia sprinkled hot sauce over her tacos before picking one up and biting into it with her straight, white teeth. She set it back in the basket and chewed slowly. I watched her swallow and pat her lips with her napkin. Lunch had been a bad idea. Too much focus on Alicia’s tempting mouth. It was ridiculous to be jealous of a taco.

“Is your food okay?” She nodded at my plate with only one bite gone.

Shaking my head, I cut off a bite of the second enchilada, a cheese one. “Yeah, it’s great.”

“Knew you’d like it.”

The red sauce was spicy. I chugged my lemonade. “Any ideas about my code?”

“Ah.” She carefully wiped her fingers on her napkin. “I may have seen something earlier in the week.”

“Something?”

“A bug.” She explained it to me—God, I had to have scanned over the bad code a dozen times—and then she said, “I—ah—I fixed it in the development sandbox.”

I let my fork clatter to my plate. “You what?”

“It was causing a problem in my code, so I fixed it so my module would run. I—I was going to tell you.”

“When?” She could’ve saved my morning of frustration.

“When you asked, okay?”

That wasn’t teamwork. That was betrayal. She’d never have done that to Tyler or Kevin or anyone else. “Why? Why the fuck would you wait?” My voice had risen too loud, and a few heads turned my way. “Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked more softly, though anger still tightened my throat.

“This. Exactly this.” She shoved her basket of tacos away. “Men don’t want to hear criticism from their women colleagues. Working with a female programmer, I could tell her about the problem, and she’d thank me and move on. She’d respect me more for helping her. But men are infallible, and there’s no way I, with my weak female brain, could figure out something you can’t. And if I do, it must be because some man helped me.” Her face was red, and a droplet of sweat dripped off her chin. “I thought—I hoped—you were different, but I can see now I was wrong. It’s all about your ego, same as every other man I’ve worked with.” She balled up her napkin and threw it on the table before scraping back her chair.

“Now wait a minute,” I said, holding out a hand to her. “I didn’t mean—”

“Oh, I think you did.” Standing, she towered over me, the short hairs at her temple curling in the humidity and making her look like a flaming sun. “You invited me to lunch not as an equal but as someone who could help you. And then, when I helped you, you criticized me. I—I—” Without finishing her sentence, she turned and walked back through the restaurant, leaving me alone with my giant plate of enchiladas.

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