I sat with Dottie at the round table, listening to her justification of why Janie should have the job.
"She's a whiz," Dottie said. "Just brilliant, really. Janie's just..."
I turned my ears off for a moment and instead watched Dottie as her hands flew in the air and her eyes grew wide. A blush tinged her cheeks and she seemed to sparkle. And why? Because she was talking about Janie? What was that all about?
"...it's amazing how much she notices things, and I think her ability to juggle tasks will be so fortuitous for us." Dottie sat back against her chair and folded her hands on the table top. No further words needed. That was that. Janie should have the job.
I hadn't come to discuss Janie, though. I had come to Dottie's office to talk about a project we had in the works and to show her how much progress we'd made. I had spreadsheets and documents and tables and graphs. I held evidence in my hands that what we were doing--all the things that Janie supposedly could do--were being done. So why ask Janie to join the group?
"Well, my friend. That'd be great. Just great." The lack of enthusiasm I heard in my own voice surprised me.
"I know!" she said as she leaned over to retrieve a pen. Dottie hadn't even noticed my reference to her favorite movie, Office Space.
And that's when I knew she was in too deep. She'd hung around Janie and listened to her gilded spiel for so long that she'd placed her up on a pedestal so high it would be tough to reach her. Shoot, maybe it wasn't a pedestal so much as a throne. Queen Janie, indeed, with Dottie as her faithful servant, ready to bow down at any opportunity.
How sad, I thought. Someone should really take that Janie down and show Dottie her true colors. Did I have the guts to take on the job of tank? I at least had to try.