Gina walked into the women's restroom to the very familiar sound of yelling.
"I don't care what day it is, I need to those reports finished! You better find a way to drag his ass into the office and get them done!" The woman in the bathroom was standing in front of the bathroom sink with a cell phone held to her ear. "That's right, you better thank me!" With that she angrily thumbed her phone off and returned it to a well-worn leather clip at her waist. She turned to Gina. "Good morning," she said as pleasantly as a happy 5-year-old.
"Morning, Helen," Gina replied, but stifled further conversation by moving straight for a bathroom stall to evacuate the triple mocha latte she had needed an hour earlier to wake her up on this miserable Saturday morning.
In the stall, Gina heard Helen busy herself at the sink for a few moments and then pause. Even though the rustle of Helen's blouse could not really be heard above the ambient noise of the bathroom, Gina thought she could see and hear Helen reach for her phone. Sure enough, a second later Gina heard the fastest thumb on the east coast dial up a number so quickly that it almost sounded like one long tone.
"And another thing," she started as if she had never ended the previous conversation, "never call me sweetheart!"
Gina covered her laughter by flushing the toilet and leaving the stall. As she approached one of the adjoining sinks to Helen, she examined the woman for the first time that morning. She had only glanced at her upon entering the room, not wanting to encourage any conversation and already knowing who it was by the shrill tone of her voice, but now she took stock of how Helen Dafair dressed on a rare Saturday morning in the office.
As Gina had guessed, the tall woman was wearing a blouse, white and buttoned high to the color. She wore a narrow brown skirt that touched her knee with brown heels. Gina guessed that Helen's idea of casual was to leave the blazer that usually accompanied her suits at home. Gina wore a sweater and jeans.
Before meeting Helen a year ago, Gina had paged through the Victoria's Secret catalogues that came to her house like everyone else she knew did: with incredulity. The lingerie obviously sold well, but Gina was always amazed at the business clothes the magazine tried to sell. Maybe it was the fact that the models in that magazine would look sexy no matter what you dressed them in; or maybe it was the fact that the photographers forgot to tell the girls that they should have different looks on their faces when they wore business suits as opposed to when they were in their birthday suits; but whatever the reason, Gina – though she had the body for it – could never imagine any women in their right mind wearing those clothes to work.
To her, they screamed: "Treat me like a sex object! Ignore my brain or business skills and promote me because I'm hot!" And right now, standing next to her at the sink was living proof.
Helen flaunted her sexuality like it was a prize to be won by the manager who promoted her the fastest. Movies were filled with women who slept their way to the top of companies only to fire the ones who had put them there and then reveal the true bitch within. Helen was trying to mimic that style, obviously never having seen how the women in those movies usually turn out.
However, Helen had forgotten two important features of that strategy. The most important part of sleeping to the top was the actual sleeping. Helen had so far not been able lure any men into her web. The woman had many nicknames, but Gina had always preferred Black Widow. Though she had white creamy skin and the fakest platinum blonde hair you could find, the idea of her luring men back to her place, sleeping with them, and then devouring them afterwards seemed a very real possibility to Gina. Many of the men believed that her lack of success in the sexual game was probably due to that fact that there wasn't room for two in the coffin she usually slept in.
However, the real reason was her second failure in the movie strategy: don't reveal the fact that you are a bitch until the end. The favorite nickname for Ms. Dafair that the two men in their team used was Hell-on-DaPhone. Helen was always pleasant around the office, smiling to everyone, bringing in donuts, laughing at all of the guys' jokes, and trying to emulate the flirty, bubbly attitude of Gina and the other young women in the office. She might have gotten away with it if it weren't for the phone.
In person, Helen was as sweet as an angel. But on the phone, she had the instincts of a great white. She chewed people up and spat them out. Brian and Kevin, the two other members of their team, had told Gina that in the hallway during the week Helen would ask them how things were going and if they were going to get the reports done on time in the kindest way possible, and when they said they needed an extension, she would smile and see what she could do.
By the time they would get back to their desks, there would be a scathing voicemail waiting for them telling them to get the report done immediately. She was Jekyll and Hyde and the phone was her trigger.
"This will be a good meeting this morning," Helen started as she began to apply her mascara in the mirror. "I know you all hate coming in on Saturday, but I have to give the status update to the staff next Friday, and I want to make sure everything goes smoothly."
Gina just stared at her. It was true that Helen was the group leader. Her charm and looks did get her ahead for a while, but as soon as upper management saw her on the phone, her upward movement stopped for a while until she was transferred to another department.
"What are you doing?" Gina asked.
Helen paused with her mascara poised in her right hand. "What do you mean?"
"You call us into work on a Saturday, we are the only ones in the building, and you show up dressed like you are giving the presentation to the staff today! What is up with you?"
"Brian and Kevin are here too," Helen responded, a bit taken aback. "Maybe if it were just the two of us I could . . ." she briefly motioned up and down at Gina's sweeter and jeans – but Gina could see in the other woman's eyes that Helen did not own clothes like hers.
Gina didn't let her finish. "You think the guys will respond better to your orders if you look like a fashion model? Whether you wear a sweatsuit, a jumpsuit, or a bathing suit, the guys are going to get their work done the same."
"Brian's report!" Helen suddenly remembered. "He's supposed to have that ready by Monday. Do you think he will?"
Gina shrugged. "I'm sure he's waiting in the conference room right now. Why don't you ask him?"
Helen nodded. "I better leave him a voice mail, just the same."
"No!" Gina shouted immediately, but already the quick draw in front of her had the phone out and thumb poised. "Don't call him! Go talk to him!"
Helen laughed. "Of course I will, Gina. Don't get all upset. But this way he will have a friendly reminder when he gets in on Monday."
Now Gina laughed, though she didn't find it funny. "A 'Friendly' reminder? You never use you phone to be friendly. You laugh and smile with everyone in the office, and then spit venom at them through your fucking phone. We all hate it!"
"Well, what do you want me to do with it?"
"Shove it up your cunt!" Gina screamed and then stormed out of the bathroom. She caught her breath for a moment in the hall, her body tingling with the excitement of what she had just done. She didn't know if anyone had ever done that before.
People had tried, but after they received one of her vicious voicemails and stormed across the office to give her a piece of their mind, they were met by a blonde angel with a smiling face above a rack of cleavage that always made them stumble on their tirade. She would take the opportunity to ask if they got her message and if she would have what she needed by when she needed it. All they could do was stammer "Yes," and she would walk away, victorious again.
On there rare occasions Helen was yelled at (usually by a superior) she took it in stride and never let it faze her. In fact, if Gina had to guess now, Helen would walk into the conference room all smiles and just get down to work.
Brian and Kevin were there when Gina walked into the conference room, and there was a gift of donuts and coffee that Helen had undoubtedly deposited there earlier. In fact, she had probably been here for an hour already, checking email and leaving scathing voicemail for people to hear when they got in on Monday.
Brian and Kevin nodded at Gina, and she smiled back. She often went out with them after work for drinks, as they were all single. Nothing had ever happened, probably because she couldn't decide with which one of them she wanted it to happen. They were both good looking and athletic with sharp minds, but maybe it was best that they stay a group of three so they could better present a unified front against their common foe.
Speaking of the devil, Helen walked in a few moments later, looking as calm and confident as ever. Gina didn't even get a look from the tall blonde, and the group leader went right to work. She stood at the head of the long oval conference table that could seat 12, with her hands on the back of the head seat and smiled at her group. Brian and Kevin sat closest to her with one buffer seat each and Gina sat behind Brian.
"Thank you for coming in this morning. I know 8am on a Saturday is rough, but I think if we focus on what we need to do here we can be done by noon."
Brian rolled his eyes, trying not to think of being in this room for 4 hours. Helen noticed the look, and commented indirectly. "In fact, I don't want any of us to leave this room until we are done. No breaks, and maybe we can be done sooner. Okay?"
They all nodded. "Good. Now, before we get started, I want to go over a few numbers marketing gave me yesterday."
As she turned and walked a few steps to an easel that held some color graphs, Gina felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. She quickly pulled it out before Helen could hear and flipped it open.
Where's the phone?
It was a text from Kevin across the table. She looked at him, but he was looking straight ahead at Helen, nodding at what ever she was saying.
What did he mean by that,
she thought, but then she looked at Helen and saw that the holster that lived on her hip was empty. Everyone assumed Helen showered and slept with her phone. She had one of the new indestructible waterproof models, so anything was possible.
