Chapter Seven – The Kind of Work That Makes You Happy

Chapter Seven – The Kind of Work That Makes You Happy

“You should be happy working, because work IS happiness!”

–Sunshine Outlook: Global HR, 2035 slogan

***

Coco landed her van in the same dank and stinking spot where we’d found it earlier, then the bunch of us leapt out. I decided to keep the mask on, at least until we were filing back into the Barber Shop from the back and I felt like it wasn’t dangerous to remove it.

I noticed Rac doing the same, ripping off the full face mask and shoving it into her pack as a tangled mess of straps.

“That was a pretty clean job, guy and girls,” Garter said. “Uh, Cat, was it? I’d usually be all for paying you for the help, but it’ll have to be something of a group decision, you know?”

“Huh? Oh, I don’t mind skipping the credits,” I said.

“Are you sure?” Coco asked.

Spider: She didn’t do anything.

“He’s right, I didn’t do anything,” I said. “Besides, it’d take some of the credits you did the work for and it’s not like you expected me to ride along. I really don’t mind. If things had gone pear-shaped and I had to save your asses, then I’d gladly accept your pay, but… yeah, that was a clean gig.”

“I don’t mind taking her share,” Rac said.

Garter snorted, then ruffled her head. “Cute, but no luck, kid,” he said.

Rac pouted and glared at the ground, and I was pretty sure I was the only one that picked up her whiney “I’m not a kid, dammit.”

We filed into the main floor of the bar, and I noticed that the dancefloor had gained a few more patrons since we left. The music was still the same, ancient jazz and swing with some heavy synths and electronics overlaid atop them. There was a new lady singing, a big chick with a big voice crooning in French about her big problems.

Garter led us back to the same booth we’d started in, and when he sat down it was with a big, weary sigh. “Alright, let me get everyone’s pay sorted out, then the first rounds on me.”

We all slipped into the booths as well, with Rac and I sitting on the edge. I didn’t figure I’d be staying here for very long. Garter did as he promised, and the mood improved noticeably as Coco and Jerusalem got their pay. Even Rac was grinning wider. Then the conversation turned to guns, and Garter and Jerusalem started to argue with the same kind of tone I’d expect from an argument that had been had before.

“So,” I said to Rac as I leaned back. “Is this how it usually goes?”

She shrugged. “Only been at it for a few days,” she said. “But… yeah, usually. I like to stay and eat after, but then I always get back home and back to work. The credits are good though.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” I said. She was probably making more than any line worker. “Risky.”

“Just a little. Garter picks good jobs. Millennium Animal doesn’t have bad clients,” she defended.

I nodded along. “Alright. Well… yeah, I guess I’ve seen what I had to see. Would you mind walking me to the door? I might get lost on the way out.”

She glanced at me, then at the exit, which we could see from our seats. “Uh, okay?”

I said goodbye to Coco and Jerusalem, shaking their hands and going through the usual pleasantries. Garter kept a hold of me when I shook his hand though. “Hey. If you’re ever looking for work…. Well, Raccoon hasn’t said too much, but she might have mentioned that you saved her from a lot of trouble, and it looks like you came here today because you were worried.” He smiled, warm and honest. “We can use that kind of person in our team.”

“I’ll think about it,” I said. “But I’ve got my own sort of work, you know?”

“That’s fair,” he said. “Stay warm.”

“You too,” I replied before ducking back.

Rac followed me, but not without pointedly leaving her stuff at the table. She didn’t say anything, not until we were out of the bar and had moved to the side, where a passerby would have to go out of their way to get within hearing range. “You’re going to have me stop working with them?” she asked.

“No,” I said.