In the blink of an eye, Harold whirled to face the direction of the voice and he looked huge. Several of the other men stepped backward.

"For your information," Shay said in a tight voice, "that's Nip, not Chink. The least you could do is get the insult right, asshole."

"There's no call for that kind of language," Scott said.

"It's a side effect of a hostile work environment," Shay said. He'd know all about that by the time she was through with him and NOC-U, she thought.

When she walked out of the trailer, her only regret was leaving Harold behind. He deserved better. She said nothing as the guard drove her to Anthea's car in his little security truck. She'd kept Anthea's key this morning because they'd both known she was going to get fired. Anthea was going to meet her at the main gate when she got off work.

The guard followed her to the parking gate and watched her turn in her badge and trailer key.

When she drove through the gate she felt like a free woman. Stress poured out of her like sweat after a long run, and it felt wonderful. She had nearly two hours to kill until Anthea would get off work, so she took the Legend for a spin with the speakers cranked up to maximum.

When she saw Anthea, she cruised up to the gate. "Let's go celebrate. My treat. Anywhere you want."

Anthea settled in and said, "You know, I have this tickle in my throat. I think my glands are swollen."

Shay glanced over at her. "Oh, no, I hope it's not too serious."

"Oh, I don't think so," Anthea said. "Probably just until the weekend. Long enough to help you configure a computer and start working on your report."

"Oh, I get it. You don't have to do that."

"The old Anthea wouldn't have done it."

"I like the new Anthea," Shay said.

Anthea grinned. "Who'd have thought we'd be so happy for you to be unemployed?"

"Hey, I'm not unemployed. I still have my lucrative waitressing career."

"Sorry. I know," Anthea said.

"Getting fired makes me hungry. Where am I taking you to dinner?"

"I have a confession to make," Anthea said. "I don't know how to tell you this, but we've been together so much that I haven't been able to get my fix."

Shay gave Anthea a sidelong glance. What on earth was she talking about? "What fix?"

"I'd kill for a burger. From anywhere. Sometimes haute cuisine just doesn't cut the mustard."

Shay giggled. "I can live with that. And right in the pocketbook range for a part-time waitress."

Anthea walked two fingers across the top of Shay's hand as it rested on the gear shift knob. "I'll have to think of some way to thank you."

Shay exhaled with a smile. "I really, really like the new Anthea."

Anthea said, "I like her, too."

11

Freeway of Love

"Jesus Christ, Shay, this looks like something your dad did."

"What can I say?" Shay looked across Joan Lewis's cluttered desk and noticed that Joan had no better success keeping her salt-and-pepper hair in a ponytail now than she had four years ago. "He rubbed off on me."

"How did you get all this shit?"

"I'll never tell. Do you think you've got a case?"

"I'll have to read all the way through it, but I don't see where'd you'd make a mistake this big. Where there's smoke, you know."

"Does the agency have the resources to investigate something like this?" One of the problems with applying to the EPA for a job was the perpetual hiring freeze that was almost impossible to get around.

"Let me put it as delicately as possible," Joan said.

Shay braced herself.

"Ever since we got the fucking Republicans out of the fucking White House this is a fucking decent place to work. We haven't had a suicide since."

Joan hadn't changed a bit.

Joan plucked the pencil from behind her ear, saying, "Let me just skim through your summary. Ooooh. Tampering with a scrutinized area, I like it. That's five mil. Intent to cover up aforementioned tampering. We'll make that five mil times three. And the new administration isn't nearly as prone to waiving fines as the old administration. I think they're going to pay."

"Do you know a good EEO lawyer? I really don't want to go to one of the guys advertising on late night TV."

Joan smiled — it was positively feral. "I know just the woman for you." She scribbled a number down out of her Rolodex. "Tell her I sent you and it'll be her ovaries if she doesn't treat you right."

"Joan, my love, you're a good woman," Shay said.

"That's what’s going to save the planet, m’dear. I'll give you a call when I’ve digested your little opus here."

"I've got two numbers right now, though I'll be at this one most of the time," Shay said, as she handed Joan her numbers.

"What's her name? And is it serious?"

"Andy — Anthea. And it's not just serious, it's —"

"Fucking serious. Good for you, doll, good for you. The four of us will have to get together and do the fucking Michelob commercial thing."

"She's a gourmet cook and a little bit rich and