BROTHERS AND BUGS
Lacey
“You okay?” Hennie entered my back-room closet that Mr. La Croix called my new office.
“Oh my God. What did you hear?”
“They tricked you into eating those stupid bug bars Mr. La Croix bought from those creepy yoga moms in the burbs. And you ruined the main floor washroom.”
I covered my eyes, groaning. “Oh my God.”
“Yeah.” She sat. “Mr. La Croix was pretty concerned; he sent me to come and make sure you’re okay.”
“Okay?” I lifted my hands. “I puked my new project everywhere. And my new project is bug bars. What the hell am I going to do with that?”
“Don’t call them bug bars for starters.” She chuckled.
“How is this even happening?” I wiped my eyes and tried to drink a little more of the ginger ale my colleague Esme had brought me when she checked on me half an hour ago.
“Dude.” Hennie cringed. “You are having the worst week. Sick brother, obviously the worst part. No tuition money. And now this.” She sighed, feeling it with me. “At least Mr. La Croix trusts you enough to give you a project to spearhead.”
“I guess.” I burped cricket and gagged, shuddering. “Nope.” I shook my head. “I can’t do it. I can’t. I’m going to have to tell him I’m fine with fetching coffees for the rest of my life.”
“Lacey.” She leaned in. “Is there a chance he’s challenging you, and this is the moment that makes or breaks the start of your career here? I mean, is this really the opportunity you want to squander when you might need the full-time job for the year to save up for school?” Her words stung and yet rang out in my pounding head for a moment.
“You think?”
“I mean, if I wanted to test the ability and merit of some young summer intern before hiring her as a full-time member of my team, I would never dream of doing something this sick and cruel, but he would. That’s his style.”
“Oh, shit, you’re probably right. He’s seeing if I can go above and beyond with an impossible challenge.” My stomach sank. At least, what was left of the poor thing. “How can I turn that down?”
“You can’t. Not really. Especially considering the way your week’s going.”
“You’re right. And if I impress him enough, maybe he’ll let me work here while I finish my fourth year, slowly.” I sat up straighter. My insides were burnt and sore, but there was no way I was going to back down from this test. “Thanks, Hennie. You definitely put things in perspective.”
“Any time.” She beamed. “I have to get back to work, but I’m glad you’re okay.”
“Me too.” I smiled wider and brighter as she left, and sipped the ginger ale. I knew what I had to do. I was going to crush this project . . . like a bug.
I started by googling the cricket flour, something I discovered was actually nutritionally beneficial. It made my skin crawl, and the pictures weren’t helping my constant burping, but the knowledge did help me understand the purpose of it.
Fortunately I was saved from too much cricket research by Marcia appearing like a magical genie at my office door. She leaned on the frame, looking like she was trying not to feel sorry for me.
“It was bad.” I just started the conversation, assuming her dad had texted.
“What level of bad, scale of one to ten?”
“Blew past ten and landed on a clear fifteen. Or as I like to refer to it, the seventh level of hell. I puke-sprayed the entire floor.”
“It’s his fault. He made you eat one of those dirty bars?” She wrinkled her nose.
“He didn’t tell me it was made of bugs until my mouth was full of them.” I shuddered and closed my eyes, unfortunately reliving the moment and the taste and texture.
“Oh, bro.” She sat and pulled out her hand sanitizer, offering me some. We both rubbed our hands with the cool liquid, filling the room with the smell. “I wouldn’t even taste them. Mom made Girt take them out of the house. He can’t get a single celeb to endorse them. They think they’re nasty too. We all think Dad’s lost his damn mind on this one.”
“Not technically.” I was defending him, though hating it. “The research is there. I get it.”
“Research or not, I wouldn’t put one of those things in my mouth if you paid me,” she said. “I’m going to the spa; you in for lunch?”
“Spa for lunch?” I contemplated the time it took to get there, the time it took to get back, and the time I would spend there. “I don’t get three-hour lunches.”
“Daddy dearest says you can come. He called me and asked me to take you out for the afternoon. Said you needed a bit of a break. Told me he feels badly.”
“Oh.” I bit my lip. “Okay. Let me go see him quickly. I need to apologize and tell him I’m on board for this launch.” I didn’t want to walk down that hallway or see him or any of the other people in the office, not after my explosive performance. But I needed to see if this was real. I loved Marcia, but trusting her with my job was a bad idea. She’d sooner have me fired so she could have company at the spa and give me the money to make up the difference. Something that didn’t sit well with me.
“Fine, but hurry up.” She glanced at her phone.
My legs were a bit weak as I stood and walked to Mr. La Croix’s office, trying not to notice the looks I was getting or the heat on my cheeks.
He was in a meeting with a lady, but the moment he saw me through the glass doors, he waved me in.
I poked my head in. “Sorry, Mr. La Croix—”
“Lacey. Are you okay?” He sighed. “I am so sorry. I had no idea you would freak out like that. I never would have put you on the spot if I’d known. I just didn’t think you’d taste the bars if I told you. Marcia wouldn’t—”
“They’re delicious. And yes, the protein source is unconventional, but I understand. I’ve done some research, and I’ll have a proposal drawn up for you.”
“You still want the project?” His expression tightened.
“Yes, of course. You caught me by surprise, but I can do this.” It was a lie. Mostly.
“If you believe in the product, then I’m excited to see what you come up with. We really need a hook to get those celebs and people like Marcia to endorse.” His eyes glanced past me. “And now, as a way of repaying you for the horrible first day back, we would all—and by all, I mean me—love it if you took the afternoon off and spent it getting a bad taste out of your mouth.”
“You sure?” I asked, glancing behind me to see Marcia tapping her watch.
“I am.” His eyes narrowed as he glared at her, then darted back to me. “And I’m proud of you. Very. You’re a strong and resilient girl. Well done, Lacey.” He smiled. That proud, fatherly look was better than anything else at healing my wounded pride.
“Thanks.” I nodded and backed out of the office. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.” I turned and left, a little bit excited to hit the spa but dreading the next ten minutes. “I just have to grab my—”
“I have it.” Marcia handed me my bag. “The girls are all waiting for us at the spa.” She texted and talked as we headed for the end of the hall.
As we entered the elevator, I gave her a look, dreading having to give her the news, and yet needing her to know. She was part of my family, and I needed to share the pain with her. I’d wanted to call or text the moment my parents told me, but I couldn’t. I didn’t know how to say the words until I told Hennie. And now it was time to bring my best friend into the fold.