Aqua-Delight ™
Michael B. Tager

Larry ambushed me only feet away from the water cooler. I had my cup in hand and would have filled it with delicious Aqua-Delight ™, if the middle manager from Hell not grabbed me with his sweaty palms. “Dave, just who I was hoping to run into.”

I grumbled something. “Anyway, Dave,” he said, leading me away. “I was hoping you could take on a little project today.”

“I don’t know, I’m pretty swamped.” I tried to escape, but his grip was firm and soon we were turning the corner into the Pit. I sighed inwardly while he babbled on about things he clearly had no understanding of. Concepts like “bottom line”, “fiduciary” and “synergy”. I tuned out, focusing when needed on the bulbous red nose in between his beady eyes and nodding in appropriate places, trying to ignore the burning, ever-present heat.

Soon we were advancing through the Pit, assorted low-levels ducking in and out of the labyrinthine corridors made by the group of cubicles. They would see us advancing on them and you could sense the worry and fear in their rodent-like minds.

Is it me?

Did they find out?

I hope they don’t ask me.

Ohcrapohcrapohcrapohcrap

Nearing the outskirts of the Pit – where the soon-to-be-promoted are moved – Larry finally finished his spiel. I checked myself from glancing back, throat still parched and needing to be cooled.

“Dave, my man. I need you to use your,” he said, putting up air quotes, “way with people.”

“Pardon?”

He frowned. “Dave, have you not been listening to me? This is an important client.” I backpedaled at the first sign of danger and started in with my enthusiastic-schtick. I was thrown off for a moment, but never in my years have I let that stop me.

After a minute or two, I had managed to convey to Larry just how excited I was for this task. His lips still twitched, but I could feel him wanting to give me the benefit of the doubt. “Well, I’ll leave you to it, then,” he said, patting my back. I stood there, unmoving, while he looked at me. I shrugged and he, with a great heave of his fat gut, turned me around and pointed to the cubicle by the far corner, close to the conference room before stalking off. With one more longing look back at the water cooler and one more disgusted, dismissive glance at the hordes of peons in the Pit, I made my way to the corner cube.

There were two people waiting there. The square-jawed man rose to his feet and extended his large, smooth hand with a presence that overwhelmed me.

Then the woman stood. She had long, tanned legs and hair the color of a sunset. She looked at me from under her heavy lashes and murmured something in the sultriest voice I had ever heard.

Between the two of them, anyone else would never have had a chance.

“Sit down,” I said. They looked at each other in some surprise. I focused on getting this over with and receiving sweet, H20 relief, sat down immediately without paying them any attention. There were two plain manilla folders on the desk, cleanly labeled. I pawed through, “Anya”, and then “Scott”. The two of them sat in front of the desk. I could see Anya adjust her shirt, displaying cleavage. Scott, catching her in the act, said to me, “I’ve heard a lot about you, sir. Quite an inspiration.” He beamed.

I flicked my eyes up and caught him in a glare. I held the stare for several moments without speaking and I could see his smile falter and break and worry enter into his admittedly splendid eyes. Anya’s smug smile grew and I turned back to the folder. But my mind was not on the meeting and I caressed my cup. I decided to end this quickly.

“The two of you are up for review. One will be promoted to sub-supervisor. The other will … not,” I said not taking my eyes from the folders in front of me. I continued to ramble about the future of the one not promoted- we worked in a cutthroat business, the consequences had to be enumerated. Though I spoke at length, I was not thinking at all; I was trying to figure out how to test them, quickly, so I could get relief from the churning heat.
They both had impressive, nearly equal numbers. And they were both clearly physically imposing, either would go far in this place. Frankly, I did not care who would be promoted, all I cared about was …

I saw a bottle of water sticking out of a plain tote bag behind their seats, near the entrance to the cubicle and I trailed off.

“Whose Aqua-Delight ™ is that?” They started, looked at each other and then behind them. Anya spoke first.

“Mine, sir.”

“Give it to me.” She grabbed the bag and handed it to me in a flash. I tore the bottle out of the bag, ripped off the top and poured it down my gullet. Nothing had ever tasted so good. When I was finished, I wiped my mouth and burped, temporarily cooled.

I tossed her the bottle. “Congratulations.” Scott’s face grew white.

“Wait, what? That isn’t … no!” He yelled, getting to his feet. I flicked my eyes to Anya and, moving quicker than I thought possible, she jumped behind him, pulled his head back and drew her long, red nails across his throat. We both watched him fall to the desk and flop around, the purple mist of his soul leaking out. It took him a short time to dissipate.

After we had filled out paperwork and made a date for later that night, near the second circle, I asked her a simple question. “How did you know I’d be thirsty?”

“Its not even my bag.”