Nellie watched until the taillights disappeared, and for the first time in a very long time, her brain and her gut were screaming completely different conclusions.
14
CHAPTER 14 – SAWYER
The treadmill was set at six miles per hour. Sawyer had set it there herself, and she was aware, in a detached and faintly contemptuous way, that it should not be presenting a problem.
She lasted approximately five minutes before she was losing her mind.
The blank wall in front of her had never previously garnered a visceral reaction. It was drywall. It was painted that particular shade of off-white that interior designers charged a remarkable amount of money to callwarm ivoryand that Sawyer had selected from a swatch card in approximately thirty seconds three years ago without regret. It had functioned, for three years, as an entirely adequate void to look at while she ran. It contained no information of any kind, which had always been the point; it kept her mind sharp and quiet on the other side of the exertion, uncluttered by visual input. That was the system. The system had served her well.
Except for today.
Today the wall was now a canvas, and the thing her mind was painting on it had dark hair and eyes flecked with gold and a tendency to sayI’m just as lost as you are.
She hit stop.
The belt slowed. Sawyer stepped off, pulled her phone from the cupholder, and sat down on the carpet with a loud huff. The heart rate monitor blinked reproachfully at her from the display. She ignored it. She opened a browser, typedflatscreen TV, and started scrolling.
Despite having more money than the human brain could possibly fathom, Sawyer Alburn was not, under normal circumstances, an impulsive buyer.
There were people in her life—investors, board members, one particularly persistent VP of acquisitions—who would have laughed until they wept at the suggestion that Sawyer Alburn bought anything without running a full comparison matrix. She had a spreadsheet, last updated four months ago, for the category ofpotential large appliance purchases. It included twelve weighted variables. She had never found a way to explain this to anyone without them looking at her as though it were excessive, which it wasn’t; it was systematic.
The spreadsheet did not enter her mind. She opened the first listing that came up, confirmed it had a same-day delivery window, and bought it. Sixty-five inch. Whatever brand that was. Done.
Martha picked up on the second ring, already at her desk, which was how she existed between the hours of seven a.m. and seven p.m. as far as Sawyer could tell.
“I’m taking the day,” Sawyer said.
She was met with silence. The soft, familiar percussion of the keyboard paused.
“I’ll clear your calendar,” Martha said, no further questions.
“Hand the supplier call to Leanne.”
“Of course.”
“And the two o’clock.”
“Yes.”
Sawyer waited. Martha gave her nothing. Noare you well?, nois everything alright?, just efficient, quiet keyboard sounds while she cleared the calendar.
“Martha,” Sawyer said.
“Mm.”
“You’re not going to say anything?”
“About what?”
“About the fact that I have never once called to cancel a full day in all ten years of your employment.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because”—Martha sighed—“you’d tell me it’s none of my business. Will that be everything?”
