“Morgan,” he said, looking into her eyes with an intensity that sober people generally did not command.
She didn’t have time for this. “Is whatever it is urgent?”
“You know you don’t have to be who they tell you to be.”
“Who is the ‘who’ in that statement, Vijay?”
He shrugged. “Your parents. Your boss. The man. Whoever. They don’t own you.”
Except they did. “And that’s the key to happiness, is it?”
“I don’t think there’s any key to happiness,” he said.“Except maybe tacos. And vindaloo. Do they make vindaloo tacos? Because that would be sweet. But you’re not happy.”
“And how would you know?” She really did not have time for this.
Vijay raised his eyebrows. “Because I’m not, like, blind? Also, you stopped baking. You were happy whenever you baked. Anyway, I know we all gotta, like, work for the man and all. My parents said I should go be a programmer and so I went and became a programmer, but once you give them a little to get them off your back, you gotta, like, do something for your own soul. Like, I started doing those monster make-up tutorials your dude Luke likes. You can’t just think outside the box, you gotta live outside the box when they try to put you in the box.”
She rubbed the heels of her hands into the hollows behind her eyeballs and tried not to look like her throat was tightening up. “Well, right now, we gotta think about getting the scissors out of the box.”
She looked around for Luke, unsure if she wanted to see him. He’d apologized, repeatedly, for keeping her in the dark. Like she’d guessed, Brad had forbidden him to reveal the soul-securitization scheme he’d concocted with Ravenfell. She knew Luke had tried to warn her. She knew she’d been obtuse. She wondered what else she’d been obtuse about.
She nearly bumped into Ronaldo when she turned around. But she needed him, too. “Did the restaurant get back to you with the happy hour menu for tomorrow night?”
Ronaldo had not been at all pleased to be drafted into helping her plan the networking party Brad had insisted they needed. Kelly had looked at Morgan’s to-do list and had volunteered Ronaldo’s help as a party planner. He’d been willing enough to pick signature drinks, which was the onlypart of the process Morgan had been looking forward to and resented giving up. But since the endless game of phone tag with the restaurant events manager wasn’t getting him a commission, he’d been dragging his feet.
“Yeah, here,” Ronaldo said with ill grace, shoving a printout into her hands.
She scanned it. “Every single one of these dishes involves sausage.”
Ronaldo smirked. “Hey, everyone likes a good theme.”
“Sausagefest is not a theme,” Morgan said firmly. Panic improved her ability to be firm. “Please go back and switch half of these to something that vegetarians can eat, and make sure there’s at least one substantial vegan option.”
“It’s a beer hall, they don’t serve rabbit food,” Ronaldo said.
“They do serve pretzels,” she answered, rolling her eyes. She shoved the printout back at him and he at least took it.
She came back to the root of her problem. Could she trust Luke? He couldn’t lie to her. But he was so effective at concealing the truth.
“I had an idea.” Hayley came bustling up. “Instead of the popcorn machine, I could offer Reiki sessions.”
No one was going to want a Reiki session in the middle of an exhibition hall. But instead, Morgan said politely, “I didn’t know you were a Reiki practitioner.”
“I’ve been watching these YouTube tutorials,” Hayley started.
“Thanks so much for the offer,” Kelly said as she passed by. “But I think we’re going to need you back at the office to coordinate any calls. It’s very important.”
Hayley wilted a bit, but perked up at the “important.” Morgan disguised her sigh of relief.
“Oh,” Hayley added as she headed to the kitchen, “does anyone know why there are vampires wandering around the elevator bank?”
Ravenfell was here? That couldn’t be good. Unless they’d figured out that the scheme couldn’t work? Maybe they had realized that no one would be stupid enough to sell their soul for a smoothie, that the marketing campaign would fall flat and they’d all be laughed out of town. No, she wouldn’t be that lucky. Hope warred with dread as she made her way to the elevator bank. Surely it would just be Renata. Or would she be worse? Auberon Vesper was the kind of powerful mixed with stupid that was fuel for Brad’s fire.
But when she got there, she saw two people she’d never seen before, grinning with plastic fangs and decked in velvet capes that had probably cost a fortune on Etsy.
“Ooh, itisimmersive,” cooed the one who had thought a red brocade corset would be appropriate daytime wear. “It looks just like a soulless corporate office. You can feel the waves of cynical desperation. I wonder if they mix green in with the pancake make-up to get that unhealthy pallor.”
“A little too true to life for my tastes,” sniffed her companion, who had paired a top hat with an early-2000s Blackberry. “The TikTok gave more of an abandoned renovation vibe. Whoever did this overhead lighting should be fired for killing the ambience.”
