“Jeez, Tony. Stop trying to sugarcoat things.”
“I’m just telling it like it is,” he said. “We all need to be realistic.”
The four of us were quiet for a long time. I took a sip of my coffee. Spike cleared his throat. “What if we livestreamed an apology,” I said. “A real one.”
“That’s a good idea,” Spike said.
“My dad suggested it.”
“Smart guy,” Spike said.
Tony shook his head. “Too soon,” he said.
“I agree with Tony,” Melanie Joan said.
“So what are we going to do?” I said. “Just…give up?”
“I don’t think I have much choice,” Melanie Joan said.
My buzzer rang again. I pressed the button and asked who was there.
A deep voice replied, “Ralph.”
Ralph. The vending machine.
I buzzed him in and waited for him outside my door. Moments later, my elevator opened. He filled the doorway. He had to bend and turn sideways to extricate himself.
“Hi, Ralph,” I said.
He nodded. He was wearing a similar shiny suit to the one I’d seen him in last night, only this one was slightly lighter in color. He slipped a legal-size envelope out of the jacket pocket and handed it to me. “Your IP’s inside,” he said.
“That was fast,” I said.
“That’s my boss,” he said. “Speedy as shit.”
“I’m impressed,” I said.
Ralph shrugged. “He claims he used to date the site’s admin, but I’m skeptical,” he said. “You scared the hell out of him, you know.”
“Yeah, well.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen him like that before. He was spooked all night. Kept checking his phone to see if word got out about his, uh, bladder event.”
I shrugged. “Sorry.”
He gave me a smile. “I was thanking you,” he said. “If anybody needed to get taken down a few pegs…”
“Oh. No problem.”
“Something wrong?”
I sighed. “Did you seeGood Morning Boston?”
He shook his head. “I do NPR.Morning Edition.”
“Smart of you.”
“I hate TV.” He headed back to the elevator and pressed the button. The doors opened immediately. He squeezed inside. He waved goodbye.
