Page 93 of Go Back to December

Lacy whirls on Sybil. “Is it final?”

“They’re split.” Sybil leans back in the chair. “One vote is undecided. Our favorite ambassador.”

“Badger.” Lacy curses. “We’ve got to get on his calendar first thing Monday.”

“It won’t matter.” Sybil curls her lip. “The vote is tomorrow.”

Lacy explodes with a yelp, which I stifle by clamping my shaking hand around her mouth.

“Why the sudden change?” I rasp. “What’s happened?”

“No intelligence on that piece yet.”

I can’t seem to swallow. “Is there anything we can do?”

“Speaking hypothetically,” Sybil drawls, “if someone happened upon this information and shared it with an informed party, who is also in a position of trust with Badger—”

“You mean Baz.”

Lacy’s already on her phone, dialing. She frowns. “It’s going straight to voicemail. Maybe he’ll pick up if you call him.”

“He doesn’t want to talk to me.”

Their heads snap up, but I ignore their shocked expressions.

“Call Dooley.”

I pace the worn carpet, praying Dooley will answer. Baz’s business is on the chopping block too. He should know the vote’s happening so he can have the chance to fight for it.

“What?” Lacy rasps into the phone. “Are you sure?”

She’s wide-eyed. “Baz is up at his family’s cabin.”

“He’s fucking with you.” After all the drama I have endured this week, there is no possible way that Baz would cave on his vow to avoid the lake at New Year’s.

Lacy swipes at her phone and shows me a post on Luiza’s feed. She’s wearing gaudy socks with a New Year’s baby on them. Her feet prop on a coffee table next to a pair of larger feet in the same socks, wearing a high-tech knee brace.

The photo is tagged Oriana Lake Resort.

“I don’t understand,” I stammer. “Baz blows a gasket whenever anyone mentions the lake.”

“Oriana Lake?” Sybil asks. “Badger has a place there.”

Lacy pulls me by her tiny fists. “You have to warn Baz. He’s been out of commission with his knee. He doesn’t know what’s happening.”

“Maybe he does, and he went up to lobby Badger,” I insist.

“Jesus, Mel, think.” Lacy grips my arms tighter. “Why else would Baz go up there?”

She doesn’t know the excuse I gave Baz for bailing, and he can’t have swallowed his pride and his angst to prove something to me.

“Your letter!” Lacy whisper-shouts. “He went to ask Badger to write your Lightman recommendation.”

I twist out of her grip. “Our deal was done. He’s not going to suddenly change his mind about spending the holiday with his family, just because, just for—”

“You?” Sybil and Lacy say together.

I sink onto the wobbly conference chair. “Impossible.”