Like Grownups Do by Nathan Roden Page B

the exception of her eyes. Her eyes were large; a blazing green, the whites more vibrant than seemed humanly possible. She added extremely long eyelashes, and the look was hypnotic. Today she wore a pair of running shoes along with a pin-striped business suit. When MG wore pin-stripes they appeared to be alive, like an electrical grid. When MG, sometimes referred to as Miss God, entered a room—she was in charge.
     
    “Millie!” MG squealed. “How’s my best girl?”
    She crossed the office floor in a flash and the two women embraced in what looked more like a tackle than a hug.
    “I’m good, MG. We’ve missed you” Millie said.
    “Well, I was just supposed to be gone for a week for my numskull little sister’s wedding, but she made sure I saw that wretched place they were moving into. The next thing I know, I’m lining up contractors and putting up cabinets. Conniving little bitch knew exactly what she was doing,” MG laughed.
    MG reached into her satchel.
    “I hope you have room left after lunch, Millie. My sister knows me well enough that while I was working on that wreck of a house, she went out and bought meeeee— this!”
    MG continued in a mock Southern Belle voice,
    “Simply the most divine chocolate in the whole state of South Carolina, I do declare.”
    “Oh, God, MG,” Millie said. “Is there a fucking conspiracy to see me in a muumuu?”
    MG threw her head back in laughter.
    “ Muahaha . Don’t be ridiculous, Millie. Chocolate is how the baby Jesus shows us that he loves us. But I can’t eat it alone because that would imply that I have a problem. Now, hold out your hand, and say, ‘Thank you, Baby Jesus’.”
     
    Millicent Vandermeer was the newest member of RCI. MG had performed the secretarial duties in the inaugural phase, and then began the search to fill the permanent position. She held the initial interviews with the applicants and then the applicants were interviewed by a panel that consisted of Jack, Jordan, Babe, and Tom. The position was posted as secretarial with a pathway to office management. Applicants were told to expect very strict requirements concerning background checks and the requirement of a NDA, or non-disclosure agreement. Millie’s credentials and resume were the weakest of all the applicants. MG interviewed Millie and then followed her into the foyer of the office. She stuck her head into Babe’s office and flexed a forefinger twice, beckoning Babe to follow her. She did the same to Tom. When the three of them arrived in Jordan’s office where Jordan and Jack waited, MG handed a file folder to Jordan and looked all four men in the eyes.
    “Miss Vandermeer is the last interview you will need to do—unless you are collectively brain dead.”
     
    Babe and Tom returned from lunch and caught the two ladies with their mouths full. MG hugged them both.
    “So, MG,” Tom said, “what’s the latest casualty?”
    “Hang on,” MG said. She reached inside her jacket and pulled out her wallet. She unfolded a piece of paper and read from it.
    “Treadmill. Ironman 3600. Incline motor and roller bearings.”
    “A wesome !” Tom said. “Hold on a second.”
    Tom walked quickly into his office and returned with a large dry erase board. The board was numbered vertically one through ten and listed various treadmills, stationary bikes, ellipticals, and weight training machines. Tom added a number eleven, followed by the words ‘Ironman 3600 Incline motor and roller bearings’. The heading on the board read, “MG’s Fitness Machines of Death”. There was a record of the now eleven pieces of fitness equipment that MG had murdered.
    “Jesus, MG. What do the guys at the sporting goods store say to you?” Babe asked. “You have to be a legend over there.”
    “We don’t exactly have long conversations,” MG said.
    “I call them and they show up a couple of hours later with a better machine than the one I paid for. They’re getting their money back from the