Page 107 of Say My Name

“I noticed.”

“And there are security cameras in the elevator.”

“I noticed those too.”

The answer is dry, but his attention remains serious.

“No regrets,” I say, and it’s mostly true.

“Good.”

He opens the door for me, and we return to work.

By Thursday afternoon, I have cleared my entire pending queue, reviewed two reports that aren’t due until next week, and reorganized six months of forecast archives.

On Friday morning, I correct the formatting in a presentation Maya prepared even though nothing was wrong with it.

She watches me move one chart three pixels to the left.

“I’m going to move that back as soon as you leave,” she says.

“It wasn’t centered.”

“It was centered yesterday.”

“The margins changed.”

“The margins did not change.”

I save the file and close it. “Do you need something?”

Maya lowers herself into the chair across from my desk. As my assistant, she has a legitimate reason to be here. As one of my closest friends, she has the confidence to stay when I clearly want her gone.

She looks at the stack of completed folders on the credenza, then at the color-coded calendar open on my second monitor.

“You’re working twice as hard to look normal.”

“I am normal.” Nothing has felt normal since last night.

“You’ve reorganized the forecast archive.”

“It needed to be done.”

“You did it last month.”

“I improved it.”

Maya’s eyes narrow. “Did something happen with Mr. Rowe?”

My attention goes straight to the desk before I can stop it.

She follows the movement and looks at the spotless glass surface.

“Mmm-hmm.”

“Nothing happened.” I straighten a stack of papers that are already perfectly aligned.

“I didn’t say anything happened.”