Safe Room through Argestes!
Kendall had been haunted by a strange dream he'd had the night after he shut down Vaulter: it was Jess in a tank dress with her head back, her hair down, and he was kneeling before her. There was white marble all around—was it a bathroom? Any psychoanalyst would have a field day.
Total fucking nonsense, he told himself and glanced at the clock beside his bed: 4:30. Another hour of sleep. He turned on his side and punched the pillow once before diving back into welcome unconsciousness.
He had had so many dreams about Jess over the years that he just filed the image away to pull up at a later date.
Sometimes Jess wondered whether everyone in the office, or at least the C-Suite, knew about her dynamic with Kendall. Sometimes she felt she was catching weird glances from some, while others shot her pitying looks. Everyone knew about her role in the bearhug, how she had been the dutiful page to the prodigal son, and how she, the rebel, now worked just feet away from the dictator who still ruled over the domain. But she wondered if they could read other things that seemed to be etched across her features: the pain she carried for Kendall, the fear she bore, the love that she'd folded up and packed away. Still, she steeled herself every morning, did her sun salutations, and went off to the office. Kerry, Lucy, Tony—they were savvy enough not to pry, especially since they knew Lance and Fiona were not returning. They had been the smart ones, the logical, rational people to say they would never, ever work for Kendall Roy or Waystar Royco ever again. But Jess couldn't bring herself to that decision. True, she had been trapped into staying on as Kendall's primary executive assistant, but she knew very well that she would have stayed anyway.
The day that Rhea Jarrell would have the secret lunch meeting with Kendall and Logan started off as any other. Jess had arrived at work a little early, 8:30, for prep—checking emails, coordinating with Kerry and the caterer for lunch, overseeing the room prep with Tony—general, boring stuff. And Kendall seemed better with a larger task to tackle instead of sitting at the conference table in his father's suite. The shoplifting, it seemed, had started to ebb, though the cover up was up and running. Of course, Jess was there to help with that clean up, coordinating with Gerri regularly, sometimes Karolina, and, begrudgingly, Colin.
At 11:55, Kendall head out of his father's office and beckoned Jess to the elevator; they were to go down to the parking garage and escort Rhea up to the meeting. This stuff was Jess' favorite: the intrigue, the secrecy; sometimes being a high-level executive assistant was fun. But alone, in the elevator. For ninety floors, changing banks at the fortieth… it would be a lot to deal with.
The elevators in the Waystar Royco building moved swiftly and were serviced often. Jess knew that the probability of one being stuck, especially after being stuck in an elevator with Kendall for an hour during her second month at the company, was extremely low. Still, she shuddered. She knew that if they got stuck again, she'd either strangle him (like he wanted her to) or fuck him (like they both wanted to)—she couldn't tell which was more plausible at this point.
During the lunch meeting, Jess finally got a moment to eat her own meal back at her desk: a turkey sandwich with Utz potato chips from the Hanover Gourmet. She rarely got to eat her lunch in one sitting, so she savored every last bite. The meeting, she knew, would conclude at one, and Kendall had agreed to escort her back down to her car himself, so Jess awaited his return, craning her neck so she could see the elevator bank as she usually did whenever she had expected him. But, at 1:15, he hadn't returned. She checked her phone—no texts.
There were raised voices at the elevators; usually the executive floor was immensely quiet—especially during lunch hours when people were out grabbing food or having lunch meetings. Right then, there were only a handful of people in the office, so what was the commotion? Jess watched as three security officers, Colin included, retrieved Gerri and Shiv from Gerri's office. They escorted them out, calling back on the walkie talkies about a panic room and something about halting the elevators. Kerry came running over from her desk.
"Holy fuck, Kerry," Jess said as she rose from her chair to watch them go.
"Did he say panic room?" Kerry had grabbed her phone and bag; Jess did the same and started jogged to a more secure location. Kerry muttered to herself sarcastically as they ran, "Hey, no worries, Colin, we're fine."
"Fuck, fuck," Jess scrambled as she grabbed her friend's hand as people started to scatter, "let's go to the records room—the one in the corner? Stay away from glass walls."
"Yeah, yeah," Kerry said; they saw three interns in a huddle by the break room looking scared, "hey, come with us!"
"Did you see where Joan went? Is she having a coronary?" Jess asked Kerry as they ran.
"She had a doctor's appointment at 1," Kerry grumbled, "lucky bitch. I saw Kendall's doing Mr. Roy's meds now? Joan had a whole schedule mapped out—"
"Yeah," Jess jogged, "I think he just needed something to do."
The group ran down to the far hallway in hidden pocket of the executive floor and came upon a nondescript door. Jess swiped her card and let the group file past. Once in, they pushed a table against the door to barricade themselves. One intern turned on a computer to see the news. Jess fell into a chair, dizzy from adrenaline.
"A shooter? Inside our building?" Kerry breathed, "And we find out about on PGN?"
A text buzzed all of their phones.
"Oh, there's the emergency alert," Jess deadpanned, "right on time."
Active Shooter. Shelter in place, the text said.
Save for the news, all was quiet. They waited ten, twenty minutes. She and Kerry checked their emails, their messages, Slack—anything for more information. Kerry got a text from Colin that Logan was secure in the panic room and that she needed to cancel the rest of his calls for the day. Kerry gave Jess a look of incredulity.
"No rest for the fucking wicked, I suppose," Kerry got to work making calls, "and who gets to also be in the panic room with all the executives? Colin, that's fucking who. And where are we?"
"Holed up in a records room that like three people know about," Jess reached out and grabbed her friend's arm, "we're OK. You're scaring the interns."
Kerry looked to the interns, huddled in a small group at the other end of the room. One of them piped up.
"I just moved to New York from Kentucky two weeks ago," she said, holding back tears, "does this happen a lot?"
"No," Kerry and Jess said in unison, scrolling their phones.
Kerry's phone buzzed again.
"Seems Colin's been tasked to look for Kendall," Kerry relayed to Jess, "they…don't know where he is…?"
PGN switched from the "active shooter" caption to "office suicide." Jess' froze, reading the words and checked her phone again for updates, but there was nothing. She opened up her messages once more. Her thumbs hovered for a moment.
Hey—where are you? I am in the records room with Kerry.
Jess sent the message and waited. No response. She began to take deep Ujjayi Breaths to calm herself. Kerry met her eyes and together they had the same horrific, passing thought, but did not share it with one another. Jess slumped down in the office chair and covered her eyes. She didn't pray, but…
Her phone buzzed to life in her lap. The screen read loud and clear: Kendall Roy.
With a rush, Jess brought the phone to her ear, she swallowed, "Kendall?"
"Hey—I got your message," he said simply, but the sound was weird—like he was in a tin can or a maybe bathroom, "I'm in the panic room."
She exhaled, and he listened; he felt a little lighter at the sound of her breath in his ear.
"I gotta go," he said, his voice still, "you're good-?"
"Uh-yes."
Kendall ended the call, took a bump of coke from the vial in his breast jacket pocket, and emerged from the bathroom and realized he had walked into a second attempt at negotiations with Rhea. Silver linings only, it seemed.
After the building had been swept, employees were again free to return to work. Many opted to merely go home, but Jess stayed—there was just too much work to do regarding Pierce. Kendall came back up to the executive floor after seeing Rhea Jarrell off, and Jess brightened when she saw him.
"Hey," she blurted and stood up from her chair, immensely relieved to finally see him again face to face. Jess reached out and squeezed his elbow. Best choice of contact? Maybe not, she concluded.
"Hey," he was quiet and only looked at her hand as she touched him.
"This day…" Jess stepped back.
"Yeah."
"You…OK?"
"Yeah," he lied, "you?"
"Yeah," she lied.
"Looks like there's some movement with Pierce," Kendall tried to clear his throat, "so we're moving forward with that. Tomorrow…If you could draw up some numbers on them-"
"OK."
"You—you should go," he said, "go home. It's been a lot today."
"It's…only four."
"Yeah," Kendall said, "but…I think you can take some time—the whole team, really."
Jess looked at him, confused. He nodded to her as confirmation of her dismissal for the day. She paused still, and Kendall waited, saying nothing. Even though she couldn't recall a time she'd left work before six, she reached down for her bag in the lower drawer of her desk; a gap in her blouse gave him a peek of her lace bra.
Kendall took a step back from her desk but didn't leave. He watched as she got her stuff together. Jess felt his eyes on her and decided to make conversation.
"So, what's different?" she asked.
Her words made an image flash in Kendall's mind. What's different this time? Last party—the rooftop—and that lace bra—
"Different?" Kendall managed, clearing his throat again.
"Yeah—with Pierce," Jess pushed in her chair and turned off her computer, "your dad's tried to go after—"
"Oh—" he blinked, "um, I don't know—price is right, I suppose."
Jess nodded and surveyed him for a moment before going home: He was quiet, still, looking back at her. It was strange, but she couldn't articulate why. Jess reconsidered the conclusion she came to regarding the shitshow that was Greg's party—perhaps Kendall did remember.
Fucking god, she thought, kill me now.
She instinctively brought her bag in front of her body and uttered, "see you tomorrow."
He watched her get onto the elevator and thought about the image that his mind's eye had pulled up for him—without any sort of context. Had she been at one of Greg's parties? He couldn't remember—he didn't think so. He was so fucked up—he couldn't tell a dream from reality. Though, controlled substances notwithstanding, that had always been the case when it came to Jess.
He couldn't remember. Maybe that was for the best; his mind was protecting him from the truth. Kendall took a breath, and, with no concrete answers about what his memory was or wasn't trying to tell him, he chose to go on feeling. Perhaps it was merely time to move on from her. Jess operated on a higher plane than he did; perhaps it was time to stop trying to climb up to her level. Perhaps it was time to know his place. Perhaps it was time to stop trying.
Jess had been clear about the boundaries—the work phone, her off-limits apartment—but she didn't actually think that Kendall could do it. She had been ready for him to break so that she could bend. But something had shifted after his return from the weekend out on Long Island—after the Pierce visit.
Jess had found out from Tony that Kendall had asked him to track down Naomi Pierce's phone number.
"Oh, right, she's on their board," Jess had told Tony.
Tony pulled his mouth into a sideways smile, "yeah, that…wasn't the implication, I don't think."
But Jess kept her head down. She was, after all, an employee. And wanted nothing more than that. Because if she did want more, it would've happened by now. She could only hold herself responsible for the choices she'd consistently made. To further avoid any close contact, she had ensured that she would be on an earlier flight to Argestes instead of being on the jet with him. But much to her own dismay, she could not stop thinking about what may or may not have happened out on Long Island.
Jess arrived early at the lodge, got settled and set up the remote office, linked up with Roman's assistant, Mitch, and went out to connect with Kendall and Roman.
"I see everyone is cosplaying as seasoned hikers except for my boy Mitch," Roman commented as they entered the lodge. "Jess, you've done a half in/half out sort of thing—just the puffer jacket paired with a sensible skirt and pumps? Where are your Sorels, your Mont-cler? Mountain-core and all that? Kendall didn't tell you to wear a costume? Ready for both the backcountry and backroom dealings? Kendall, you didn't tell her-"
Jess scrolled through the Argestes seminar schedule. "No, I make my own sartorial choices."
"Hey Rome," Kendall cut in as they walked, "you jerking off to The Handmaid's Tale again, bud?"
"So what would that make me…Ofkendall?" Jess murmured quietly at Roman. She glanced at Kendall with a wry smile. "Right, Ken?"
Kendall, a little taken aback by the quip, pursed his lips and could not come up with a quick enough comeback. Jess trotted back down the hall to coordinate the lunch meeting with Alphabet with Mitch (who chose to sidestep the conversation entirely; under Roman, Mitch had been quick to learn the path of least resistance).
Kendall watched her go from his periphery. So, this was how she was going to be now: a little mean, sassy, and flirty. Was this Jess no longer giving a fuck? Or was it something else?
"Oh—Jess," Roman regarded her with some respect, "look, Ken, Jess with the jokes. What the fuck—"
Kendall shrugged, trying to brush it off, as they entered the reception area.
"Oh, there she goes," Roman commented, "Ofkendall, off to prepare for the ceremony."
"Dude."
Roman huffed a laugh and was intrigued by the general premise. He was ambushed by a decadent idea in his mind: Gerri's masterful verbal whipping that awaited him if he dared to call her Ofroman.
There had been an emergency meeting in Logan's suite after Nan Pierce's unceremonious exit. Kendall had texted Jess, as she grabbed a drink at the restaurant bar with Kerry and Mitch, who was already deep into his martini. Working for Roman Roy drove even the quietest, even-keeled person to drink heavily.
"I suppose I should see what's up," Mitch still chewed on his olive as they jogged up to the room, "though I'm sure Gerri has already advised Roman on whatever the next steps are."
Jess shot him a look as they rounded the hallway corner; Mitch turned his mouth down and shrugged, wearing a momentary halo to go with his buzz. She and Kerry exchanged glances.
Kendall and Roman were at the far end of hallway talking.
"What—you called for the EA cavalry?" Roman gestured to them, "what're they gonna do? Share a Google doc? Write a press release?"
"Keeping assistants abreast of issues, Rome, is actually a beneficial thing," Kendall said.
"Abreast? Yeah?"
"Why are you twelve years old—"
"I'm not going to tell HR—"
"Tell HR what—"
"It's cool, man," Roman smacked Kendall's arm with the back of his hand as the EAs neared, " secret office romance and shit—trysts and all that. Oh, watch out, here they are. Hey!"
"Hey—I got your text—" Jess started to Kendall.
"You know," Roman cut in, "fuck this. We're not getting anything done tonight. My dad's got like fifty people on this. My brother didn't need to call you up for this—you know what, Ken?"
Kendall was quiet, unamused.
"Let's take these three out," Roman said, "let's connect with Greg—I think he's with Eduard who's got a table at the club downstairs."
"Rome—"
"Mitch, Kerry, Jess—" Roman held out his hand to his brother, silencing him, "we'll meet you downstairs in like thirty—and it's fucking table service all night, OK?"
"Rome—"
"See you then. No googledocs or whatever the fuck it is you do."