Zephyr didn't look pleased at all. In fact he seemed distinctly more grouchy than he had mere minutes ago, when he was chatting jovially with little Melody and her parents. But Zephyr nearly always got moody to and from field appointments. Connor tried to drive carefully so Zephyr wouldn't get nervous, but by now he had come to the conclusion that it wasn't anything he did that upset Zephyr so much. Maybe the guy just had some problem with automobiles. It couldn't have been the music; Connor had long ago given up on the CDs Zephyr griped about and now kept the radio tuned to the easy listening station.

Connor started the van and pulled out into the street, waving one last time to Melody as her mother wheeled her down the new ramp. "They're really nice people," he observed. "That was really nice of them to give us lunch. Although those lemon squares set me back on my diet." Connor wasn't actually on a diet, but he figured if he insisted he was often enough, he'd guilt-trip himself into starting one. Those obligatory 15 college pounds had somehow turned into 50. Surely some of it was muscle... this job could be physically grueling when he was doing things like installing ramps. But god, it felt good to do the hands-on stuff.

****

The Brandes family lived just outside of Eureka, but they hit some traffic and by the time they got back to the office, it was already almost 4:00. Connor had already gotten permission to leave early for his date with Lauralynn. He threw his CADD textbook into his bag and stopped by the breakroom for a coffee on his way out. He had always hated coffee, but it was part of the culture here. And if he loaded it with cream, it was actually pretty good.

Mr. Dykstra was there before him. "Hey, Connor," he said. "Have a class?"

Connor nodded, then shook his head. "Thursdays I don't have any classes until late, but Zeph-- Mr. DeCastle told me to leave early so I could stop by and see my girlfriend. I haven't seen her all week."

Mr. Dykstra gave him a contemplative gaze, and he remembered that Mr. Dykstra was in the middle of that divorce and wondered for a moment whether he'd offended him. Instead he replied with a friendly, "Good. Have fun."

Connor nodded. He dropped his bag onto the long table as Mr. Dykstra moved away from the coffee machine and took his turn.

"Oh, hey," Mr. Dykstra added, "Could you stick around just one more moment?"

"Sure," Connor said.

"And make some coffee for Zephyr and Oscar."

"Sure," said Connor, although that request puzzled him. He located their personal mugs - an oversized, double-handled one for Zephyr and one with a conga line of dreadlocked folks from Jamaica for Oscar - filled them with coffee and added cream and sugar in their preferred amounts. When he was done, Mr. Alvirez walked in.

"Oscar, get Zephyr in here," Mr. Dykstra said.

Mr. Alvirez grabbed the sides of the doorframe and leaned back into the hall. "Zeeeeeeephyr!" he shouted. He paused and then continued. "C'mere! Into the break room! Yeees, right now!"

When Mr. Alvirez was done, Connor handed him the Jamaica mug.

"Thank you! Ay, kid, I thought when we hired you, it meant you din't have to be the gofer anymore."

Connor shrugged. When Zephyr shuffled in to join them, Connor handed him his mug too.

Mr. Dykstra raised his cup. "I would like to propose a toast," he announced, "to a milestone we reached today. To our first truly loyal customer."

Mr. Alvirez raised his mug too and clinked it against Mr. Dykstra's. Connor joined in with his own plastic travel mug. Zephyr didn't move.

"Marsh, dude. What do you mean? We've got loyal customers already."

"Yes, but this one sought us out for the work we did for them at Eureka Custom. We have other EuC clients, but we've had to solicit every one of them."

"Illegally and immorally," Mr. Alvirez added with a sly grin.

Mr. Dykstra shot him a look. "Yes, well. This client dropped its EC account and came directly to us, of their own free will. Gentlemen, I would like to toast Holy Name Elementary School as proof of our success."

Zephyr leaned heavily against the wall. "Oh, no," he groaned.

"What?" Mr. Dykstra asked in a somewhat annoyed tone of voice. "This is big. This is going to bring us a lot of much-needed money. In fact, everyone's being assigned to this account. When we show that we can pull this off, we've proven ourselves."

"What's wrong with Holy Name?" Mr. Alvirez asked Zephyr.

"I hate that place. It's so oppressive."

"Y'have something against Catholic schools?"

Zephyr shook his head. "I find all schools oppressive. Just the whole red brick institution thing, I guess, with all those stern teachers roaming around the halls looking for small children to punish. And paved-over playgrounds, and... well, everything."

"Just think of it as your opportunity to make it slightly less oppressive, at least for the special needs kids," Mr. Dykstra suggested.

Zephyr looked at Mr. Dykstra over his coffee as he took a sip. "I'll do it. But I reserve the right to gripe."

"Fair enough," Mr. Dykstra said.

Connor slung his bag over his shoulder and moved toward the door. "Okay, I've gotta go. Cheers!" He raised his travel mug and grinned at his bosses as they stepped aside to let him through.

"Good luck with the ol'... uh... girlfriend!" Zephyr called out after him.

"Thanks." Connor closed the breakroom door, and as he hurried down the hall, he heard the three men laughing and talking loudly. He said good-bye to Mariluz at the reception desk, and as he left the building, he had a sudden strange urge to turn around and rejoin his employers in their conversation. But no, he had promised Lauralynn that he'd be there tonight. A promise was a promise, no matter how much he dreaded it.