MEANWHILE Back At The Office

18 August 2026

2003

R. Linda:

I left Sam, our romantic wounded hero, and moved on to HER, the woman who said, "There was no engagement. There is nothing to discuss." Only said with a Chinese accent. And then, there be me, the man who be told is responsible for this (See Story #2001, Hammocks, Matchmaking, And A Misplaced Diamond, 16th August 2026).

When I saw Ms. Jaio yesterday morning, she looked anything but happy. I've never seen the "glum" side of Ms. Jaio, and I hoped that would end soon. She's all business and doesn't seem like her old self at all. No snide remarks about what Jessica Lee in Fashion is wearing, no criticism of Tony's poor choice of ties or lack of, no nothing. 

So, adventuring in, since I feel like I have nothing to lose, I said to her in passing, "Ms. Jaio, Sam seems kind of—"

"No."

"But I didn't—"

"No."

"I was only going to—"

"I know what you were going to ask."

And THAT was the entire conversation. 

I came to the conclusion that Sam is miserable. Ms. Jaio won't discuss it. Tonya concludes something must be done. No one has told ME how to solve this dilemma, yet they all seem to imply, in manner or words, that I am responsible for fixing it. This is where the trouble begins: I mapped it out in me mind. I need Ms. Jaio's side of the story. Unfortunately, she is not forthcoming. 

I saw her at her desk, looking out the window with her readers on, which told me she wasn't looking out the window; she couldn't see a damn thing. I approached carefully. 

"Ms. Jaio, can I ask you something?"

"No."

"You don't what I'm going to ask."

"Yes, I do."

That stopped me for a minute. But me being me, I decided to carry on anyway. I tried a different route.

"Sam's been kind of quiet. I saw him last night at the town meeting."

"Good."

"He doesn't seem himself."

"I'm sure he'll recover."

"He thinks—"

"Gabe." She looked at me for the first time over her glasses. She meant business.

And that was it. End of conversation. BUT I tried many times today, and she headed me off every single time. She's clever, I tell ya. But you know me, it takes a lot to deter me when I get something in me mind that needs be done. Since me first approach was going nowhere, it was time to invite the two of them somewhere they'd have to meet face-to-face.

I rang up Tonya. I told her the plan I had hatched. 

"Nothing elaborate, I'll be simply inviting both of them somewhere without telling either that the other will be there."

"You didn't do that yet, did you?"

"I thought if they just talked—"

"She specifically said she didn't want to talk about it."

"Right."

"So YOU arranged for them to talk about it."

"Well, when you put it that way, it doesn't sound like such a good idea."

"It's an approaching disaster, Gabe."

"Too late," I said softly.

Yes, I arranged a meeting. I did that. Desperate measures for desperate times, as they say. I bribed my administrative assistant to talk Ms. Jaio into going with her to the little coffee shop down the street after work.

"Tell her you need some advice."

"On what?"

"Anything. Some girl thing."

"Girl thing?"

"Oh, I don't know. Tell her you are dating a Chinese Art Student at Harvard, and would love to know how to go about that so you don't insult him somehow."

"Insult him? Really, Mr. O'Sullivan."

"No, you know what I mean, like, he is from another country, her country, and you want to make a good impression. Something like that."

"You mean lie."

It took some fast talking, but I got her to do it. Then I waited. She came back and whispered, all set. Then she asked me why she was doing this favour for me. I was counting on her not asking me, and when she didn't at first, I thought I was home free. I decided honesty was the best policy and so I told her why. Her reaction? She laughed. She thought the whole thing was a hoot. She also told me I was going about this all wrong and should leave sleeping dogs lie. Well, I can't do that. 

"Just get her to the coffee shop, and I'll take it from there," I said. She said she would, but I owed her. Of course, I do. I never get anything for free. 

"I want Friday off. This coming." She said.

"Done." 

Once this transaction was complete, I rang up Sam and gave him a song and a dance about the cemetery downtown with all the famous colonial names and GHOSTS. I said I was free early today; if he could get off work and meet me at the designated coffee shop, we could grab a bite and head out. He, of course, hasn't lost interest in this ghoulish business and said enthusiastically, "Yes, I can make it."

"Bloody hell," I said to me self-satisfied self. I was pulling this off. 

So, the time arrived; I was there ahead of everyone. Shortly after, Ms. Jaio and me assistant arrived. I acknowledged them like it was no big deal and went about stirring me cup of joe. Then right on time, Sam walked in. The first thing he saw was Ms. Jaio. I braced meself; was he going to walk out? Would she see him before he did? 

And? Nothing happened! Ms. Jaio said hello, Sam said hello. They behaved like two perfectly civilised adults. Me assistant slipped over to me table and asked me, "How's it going?" 

I couldn't hear what the two setups discussed; it looked like something utterly mundane. Maybe the weather, food, something that needs fixing? I was completely baffled. I was expecting Gone With The Wind. Instead, I get two people discussing whether it's going to rain. In hindsight, I think that's exactly what Sam needs—not a reconciliation, not an explanation, just proof life continues. Or, maybe that's what I needed.

My assistant had slipped out with my blessing. Ms. Jaio left after her conversation, but not without a glance at me and a mouthed "thank you," and I cautiously approached Sam. 

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"How do you feel"

"Fine."

"So you're over it?"

Sam looked at me.

"I didn't say that." Then after a pause, "Did she ask about me before she came?"

"No," I said.

Sam suddenly became depressed again. This threw me. Now I felt terrible that I had set him up, but not enough not to lie.

"She might've," I said, as if remembering something.

To this, Sam perked up. 

"You think so?"

For once I knew enough to keep me mouth shut. 

Gabe

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