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“If you want a future here, I’d think twice about that.”

“No,” is all I say.

Simon narrows his eyes and sizes me up. “There’s a hefty bonus in it for you. Regardless of the outcome.”

I laugh without humor. “I thought we weren’t law enforcement. Since when is it part of our job to influence a jury?”

“Balanced reporting,” Simon says.

“False balance,” I counter. “You know the principle. I’m not going to pretend there are two equally valid positions here. Let the courts decide. But I’m not going to be part of it.” I stand up.

“You can’t be serious about spending your entire career spouting this woke nonsense in the lifestyle section.”

“Simon, let’s forget this conversation ever happened. I’m going back to work, and I’m assuming this isn’t between us.”

My boss leans back in his chair. “You’re a little too sure of yourself, Parker. Don’t forget that everyone is replaceable.”

“Then it shouldn’t be a problem to find someone else for this assignment.” I’m not sure if I’ll ever regret those words. In any case, I walk out and close the door behind me.

My hands are shaking.

I can hardly think about work.

I rush over to Ricky, who gazes at me with concern in his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Simon’s . . . ”

Ricky waves it off. “How are you holding up? Could you bring me a cup of coffee? The stuff from the break room is undrinkable,” he asks me.

I exhale heavily. “Thanks. I could use those five minutes of fresh air right now.”

He nods at me and turns back to the open-plan office. I follow his gaze. Carly eyes us questioningly and gestures as if to take a sip from an imaginary cup. I nod, and she gives me a thumbs-up. “Alright, another triple coconut latte for Carly.”

“Yep.” Ricky gives my arm a quick squeeze. “It’ll be okay.”

I’m not entirely sure about that, but right now I have no choice but to press on. “I’ll take the coffee upstairs and go for a walk before I sit at my desk. Luckily, I have to head out again this afternoon. I have an appointment in Nolita. In case anyone wants to talk to me.”

Ricky gives a quick nod.

After I’ve delivered the coffee, I’m already better. There’s something strangely soothing about waiting in line at a coffee shop.

If Simon wanted to get rid of me, he would have fired me long ago. But I’m a valuable employee. My boss knows that, and I do too.

The fact that we have our differences is nothing new. What’s new is the intensity of our arguments about them. I shake my head involuntarily. It doesn’t matter.

I have an important conversation coming up with Grady regarding one of my young clients.

The British singer, on the verge of international success, has been forbidden by his completely incompetent mini-management team from coming out. I’m vaguely acquainted with his manager. His clients are often promising talents, but he frequently fails to find the right angle for them, and their talent languishes somewhere.

Not that I specialize in managing European singers, but some of the decisions that cross me leave me at a loss.

The time leading up to my appointment passes in a daze. I throw myself into my work so as not to think about Simon and his threat.

When the time comes, I rush out onto the street, a man dying of thirst lunging toward a mirage.

Trusting the current temperatures, I’m even going without a scarf today. Hopefully that won’t come back to bite me in the butt and it stays this mild.

Stepping into the little bistro in Nolita lifts my mood instantly. The neighborhood is a world of its own. Its cozy restaurants offer an escape from the hustle and bustle of Manhattan.