Page 13 of And Now, Back to You

I’m not going to like whatever happens in this office. I know it.

“If you have a meeting, why were you walking in the opposite direction?”

“Because I wanted to spare myself the humiliation of sitting in a business meeting dressed as a tortoise.” She gestures at her coffee-stained chest. “Clearly, that’s no longer a concern.”

We linger at the doorway playing the world’s most awkward game of chicken.

“Are you going to go inside?”

“I’m really not sure,” I answer. “I’m considering climbing out the window, actually.”

She snickers. “I think it’s too late for that. Our fate is sealed.”

Fate. It rattles around my skull and plunks down to land somewhere in the middle of my chest. A marble in an empty soda can. A tuning fork, vibrating at a frequency I can’t hear.

A silly thing, for silly people. I control what happens. Not some mystical force.

“Says who?” I ask.

“Says me.” Maggie appears in the doorway. Her eyes flick briefly to where I’m holding my glasses together. “You’re late.”

“I thought our meeting was at the station.” Our station. “I’m here now.”

“Yes, and with quite the stunning entrance.” Her face remains impassive, but delight shines in her catlike eyes. They cut in Delilah’s direction, softening slightly. “Do you need a minute before we get started?”

Delilah shrugs. “It can’t get much worse, can it?”

It can, in fact, get worse.

The four of us sit in silence in Keith’s spacious office. Keith, who didn’t so much as grunt a greeting when we all finally settled around the meeting table. Keith, who looks more enamored with his extra-large Dunkin’ frozen coffee than whatever it is we’re here to discuss. Keith, who seems determined to make this a power play between himself and Maggie by remaining frustratingly disinterested and silent.

I try to grab Maggie’s attention with a look that appropriately conveys What is happening? and Why am I here for it? but she’s busy trying to disintegrate Keith’s skull with her stare.

This could have, by every definition, been an email.

If it were, maybe my glasses would have survived the morning.

Delilah sits in a corner of the room on a too-small folding chair that looks like it might collapse at any second. Either Keith couldn’t move his chair to make room for her, or he refused to.

Given how this meeting is going, I have my suspicions.

She pinches her turtle top and pulls it away from her chest with a grimace.

I clear my throat and three sets of eyes snap to mine.

“I, uh—” I nod at Delilah, trying to force my face into something polite. If no one wants to start this meeting, the least I can do is make small talk. I can try. “I like your suit.”

She blinks at me. “What?”

“The . . . turtle thing. You look nice.”

Maggie immediately stomps on my foot—hard—beneath the table. I suck in a sharp breath through my teeth.

“Be nice,” she whispers under her breath.

What would have been nice is if Maggie didn’t ambush me with a surprise meeting with Delilah Stewart, of all people.

“Oh, um.” Delilah glances down at herself, like she’s forgotten she’s dressed as a reptile. “Thank you?”