Unfinished Muse by R.L. Naquin Page A

abilities. “What if I do it wrong?”
    She shrugged. “As long as you remember to go
invisible, no harm done. Try again tomorrow.” She frowned when I
didn’t move. “You’ll be fine. Go.” She shooed me away. “Motivate.
Inspire. Provoke art. And close the door, please.”
    Scowling, I made my way back to my desk. I
sat for a few minutes thinking about how hard I was going to suck
at all this. Then I pulled myself together and used the outdated
computer in front of me to map the address on my assignment.
    At least I could figure out where I was
going.
    My client was a guy named Alex. He lived in
Topeka, a short distance from my apartment. I punched the address
into my phone’s GPS so I wouldn’t get lost, then scanned the sheet
to find out what Alex’s project was. My mouth opened in
disbelief.
    “Toothpick art? Seriously?” I leaned back in
my chair and threw my hands in the air. “Whatever happened to
poetry and ballet? This isn’t even a thing.”
    Kayla walked past, reading an assignment of
her own, and stopped to glare at me over the half-wall of my
cubicle. “What’s got your knickers in a twist?”
    My voice sounded whiny, even to myself.
“They gave me toothpick art. That’s not even real.”
    She gave me a disgusted look. “Did you think
you were going to start off helping someone write the Great
American Novel or something? You have to begin at the bottom. My
first assignment was for a graffiti artist.” She started to walk
away, then stopped again to look back at me. “It’s not like you
ever finish anything yourself, anyway.”
    What the hell was that supposed to mean? I
would have asked her, but she was already gone. She wasn’t wrong,
but she wouldn’t know that. She’d just met me.
    Muttering, I did a quick search on the
computer. To my surprise, toothpick art was a thing. An
impressive thing, in fact. I clicked through pages filled with
incredible works of architectural art.
    “Ha. Fooled you, you cow. This is a great
assignment.” I really wanted to believe that.
    After a few minutes, I logged off and went
to the prop room for my gear. I clipped the belt around my waist
and loaded it with a fresh bottle of bubbles and the Beastie stuff
Audrey had failed to demonstrate or explain. As I turned to leave
the room, I found my way blocked by Dave and Jeremy.
    Seriously. For an office full of people who
were supposed to be inspirational, the employees in the Muse
department mostly seemed to be a pack of crap-weasels. They were
worse than the folks I’d worked with for two weeks at the DMV.
    I really needed to rethink my life
choices.
    Dave stuck his hands in his pockets and
grinned. “Hey, chicky. Ready for your first solo?”
    I took a deep breath, counted to three, and
let it out. “I am, yes.”
    Jeremy snickered, and it was every bit as
creepy as I’d expected it to be. “Can we watch?”
    I narrowed my eyes. “Watch what?”
    “You,” Dave said. “Solo.” He turned to
Jeremy, and they high-fived each other.
    It occurred to me that I should say
something to my boss. Or maybe march down to Human Resources and
file a complaint. I’d never been very good at following rules like
that. I knew if guys like that weren’t reported, they’d continue
their bad behavior, and girls who were easier to shake up would end
up targets.
    But it might also be the case that this was
some sort of hazing ritual. Everybody but Trina seemed to hate me
already for some reason, and frankly, it was my first real day on
the job.
    I shoved past them, elbowing my way through.
“Not till you have notes from your mommies. You’re not grown up
enough to even talk to me right now.”
    Whatever reaction they were expecting from
me, that wasn’t it. I left the office without hearing another word
out of them. Tomorrow I’d probably have another problem from them,
but for now, at least I was away from them.
    “Crap-weasels.”
    Halfway down the hallway, I’d cooled off
enough to realize I had no