Crosstalk Read Free Page B

Dame.”
    “You mean the Phantom of the Opera,” Briddey said. “The Hunchback of Notre Dame lived in a bell tower, not a dungeon. And C.B. doesn’t have a hump.”
    “No, but he still creeps me out.
I
think he’s crazy.”
    “He’s not crazy.”
    Charla didn’t look convinced. “He wears a
wristwatch,
” she said. “Nobody does that anymore either. And he dresses like a homeless person.”
    Briddey didn’t have an answer for that. He did. Even by Commspan’s casual, Silicon Valley–style dress code of flannel shirts, jeans, and running shoes, C.B. looked terrible, as if he’d grabbed his clothes randomly off a thrift-store rack, and they always looked like they’d been slept in. Which they probably had.
    “Suki says he doesn’t believe in answering emails or going to interdepartmental meetings,” Charla said, “and those earbuds he wears aren’t connected to anything. I’ve even seen him talking to himself. What if he’s a serial killer and he’s storing the bodies in his lab? Nobody would ever know, it’s so cold down there.”
    Don’t be ridiculous,
Briddey thought.
This is Commspan. They’d know within nanoseconds.
“Well, serial killer or not, I need to talk to him, and I don’t want to go all the way down to his lab. Keep trying to get in touch with him,” she said, and went back into her office to text C.B.
    In the five minutes she’d been gone, she’d accumulated nine more “Congrats!” emails and twelve more voice messages, including one from Darrell in IT telling her he thought having an EED was “Totally phenomenal!” and one from Rahul Deshnev’s assistant wanting her to call ASAP. Briddey did, hoping it meant the meeting had been postponed, but when she got on the line, Rahul Deshnev’s assistant said, “I’m so glad you’re getting an EED! Greg and I just had one, and it’s even better than they advertise. Now our relationship is totally open and honest. We don’t have any secrets from each other, and we
never
fight. And the sex is amazing! Greg—”
    “Sorry, but my nine forty-five just got here,” Briddey said, and hung up, thinking,
Maybe going down to see C.B. would be a good idea.
Staying here, she wasn’t going to get a moment’s peace, and the fact that there was no reception in the sub-basement meant she wouldn’t be able to get calls
or
texts there. And since Charla thought C.B. was some sort of horror-movie monster, she was unlikely to venture down there after her to deliver a message.
    Best of all, since C.B. didn’t carry a phone and never checked his email, he wouldn’t know anything about the EED, and she wouldn’t have to engage in another time-consuming conversation about it. She could find out what he wanted and then go into one of the storerooms and figure out exactly what to tell her family without fear of being interrupted.
    She started out the door, nearly colliding with Charla, who said, “Suki Parker called again. And your Aunt Oona. She said she needs to talk to you about the poetry reading. And your sister Mary Clare is on line one.”
    “Tell them all I’m in a meeting,” Briddey said. “I’m going down to C.B. Schwartz’s lab.”
    “But how will I get in touch with you?”
    You won’t,
Briddey thought. “I’ll be back by ten thirty,” she said.
    “Okay,” Charla said doubtfully. “Do you really think you should go down there by yourself?”
    “If he tries to kill me, I’ll hit him with an icicle,” Briddey said, and to make sure Charla didn’t follow her, she added, “I’ve been thinking about what you said, and you’re right. He does look a little like the Hunchback of Notre Dame. Or the guy in those
Saw
movies.”
    “I
know
. You’re sure you’ll be all right?”
    Absolutely. If I can just get down there without being waylaid by anyone else.
She opened the office door and looked cautiously out, convinced Suki would be lying in wait, but for once the “luck of the Irish” Aunt Oona constantly invoked was