Chapter 37: The Lost Tuesday (4)
TATE ASSOCIATION – MAIN AISLE – 2:21 PM
El stood at the front of the department.
He didn't remember walking here. His feet had moved on their own — muscle memory, autopilot, some desperate need to not look like he was falling apart.
But he was here now.
And the man was here too.
The boss.
He was taller than El expected. Imposing. Not because of his size — but because of the way he stood. Still. Unmoving. Like a statue carved from silence.
His suit was charcoal gray. Immaculate. His shoes were polished. His hands were clasped behind his back.
And his eyes —
Those eyes.
They look tired.
Like someone who hasn't slept in years.
Like someone who's seen too much.
El's throat tightened.
This is the boss.
The one who never leaves the top floor.
The one who never visits.
The one who never fixes the coffee machine.
And he's looking at me.
Mira stepped forward. Her voice was smooth — professional, practiced, perfect.
"Sir, this is El Ignacio. He's the marketing assistant I mentioned. He's been leading the data compilation for Project Horizon."
Hendricks nodded beside her.
"His reports have been consistently ahead of schedule. Very reliable."
The boss didn't respond immediately.
He just looked at El.
Longer than comfortable.
Longer than normal.
"El Ignacio."
His voice was calm. Measured. Nothing like the dry, rough mutter from Whimsy.
El swallowed.
"Yes, sir."
"You've been ahead of schedule on every report."
It wasn't a question.
"I just do my job, sir."
The boss's eyes didn't leave his.
"No," he said quietly. "You don't."
El's chest tightened.
What does that mean?
How does he know?
Why does he keep looking at me like that?
Mira glanced between them. Confused.
"Sir?"
The boss waved a hand.
"The numbers. The progress. Tell me how you did it."
El blinked.
"I just... I notice the patterns. I observe. Then I do it."
The boss was quiet for a moment.
"If you know the pattern, does it mean you already have the answer?"
El's mind went blank.
What?
What answer?
He's talking about the project.
He has to be talking about the project.
"Sir?"
El's voice came out rougher than he intended.
Beside him, Mira tilted her head. Confused. Hendricks shifted his weight. Uncomfortable.
The boss didn't explain.
"The project."
The project.
Right.
The project.
El exhaled — slow, quiet, relieved.
"Ah. Yes, sir."
He started explaining. The data sources. The patterns. The way the numbers fit together if you looked at them long enough.
The way the market trends told a story if you knew how to listen.
Mira stepped in. Supported him. Added details he forgot. Clarified points he rushed through.
She was good at this. Professional. Polished. She made him sound better than he felt.
The boss listened.
Didn't interrupt.
Didn't nod.
Just listened.
When El finished, the boss was quiet for a long moment.
"Everyone leave."
Mira blinked. "Sir?"
"You heard me."
His voice didn't change. Didn't rise.
"Everyone leave. I want to speak to El alone."
Hendricks opened his mouth — closed it. Nodded. Walked away.
The assistants followed.
Mira hesitated. Looked at El. Worried.
El nodded at her. It's fine.
She walked away.
---
TATE ASSOCIATION – MAIN AISLE – 2:25 PM
El stood alone with the man.
The boss didn't speak immediately. Just looked at him. Those tired eyes.
"Let's say you're working on a report. You finish it. It's perfect. Then someone asks you to redo it from scratch using a different template."
El blinked.
"Sir?"
"You do it. It's fine. But now they want you to redo it again. Same template. Same numbers. Same everything."
The boss paused.
"At what point do you stop redoing the report and go back to the original?"
El opened his mouth. Closed it.
This is a test.
Some kind of test.
But what's the right answer?
"I... I'd go back to the original when I realize the changes aren't improving anything."
The boss nodded. Slowly.
"Good."
He stepped back.
"That's all."
El stared at him. "Sir?"
"You can go."
El didn't move.
That's it?
He called me here for that?
To ask me about reports?
To give me advice about templates?
Why?
Why does it feel like he was talking about something else?
Why does it feel like he was talking about—
"El."
The boss's voice cut through his thoughts.
El looked up.
The man's eyes were different now. Softer. Almost familiar.
"Be careful," he said quietly.
"Not everyone who watches you wants to help you."
El's blood ran cold.
*Those words.*
*Someone else said those words.*
*The unknown number.*
*The shadow.*
"Not everyone who watches you wants to help you."
"How do you—"
But the boss was already walking away.
His assistants fell into step behind him.
The elevator doors opened.
He stepped inside.
The doors closed.
El stood alone in the main aisle.
---
EL'S CUBICLE – 2:30 PM
El walked back to his desk.
The dust was still there.
He stared at it.
"If you know the pattern, does it mean you already have the answer?"
"At what point do you stop redoing the report and go back to the original?"
"Not everyone who watches you wants to help you."
What does any of it mean?
Why did he say those words?
How does he know about—
"Hey."
He looked up.
Demi was at the cubicle wall. Grinning.
"You're doing the staring thing again."
El didn't answer.
Demi's grin faded.
"You okay? You look like you just saw a ghost."
I feel like I just saw a ghost.
But I don't know why.
"I'm fine," El said.
Demi studied him. Didn't believe him. But didn't push.
"Okay," Demi said quietly.
"Okay."
He grabbed a chip from his bag and crunched it.
El looked at the dust.
Looked at the clock.
2:31 PM.
The day wasn't over.
And neither was he.