Yesterday I was at my desk, working late. I had nothing else to do, as Nathan had been held up for another day of “team building” group activities in downtown Toronto.
I was eating ramen noodles out of a cardboard bowl, scrolling down an impossibly complicated sheet of interest variables.
“You know, they don’t pay you for the extra hours.”
I tore my eyes away from the screen.
Jake stood by me desk, smoking a cigarette. “What are you listening to?”
I still had my earphones plugged into my ears, though the iPod had long ago run out of power.
“Nothing.”
Jake scowled and smiled. “You realize me and you are the only losers still working at this hour?”
I liked it when people who’d never spoken more than two words to me called me a loser.
Reminded me of home.
“Susan says you drive a Duc
