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Why am I so tongue-tied? What is it that I want to say?
“So, thank you for… everything, Dr. Warner. Thank you.”
“Yes. You’re welcome,” I answer.
Suddenly, standing here feels stiff and uncomfortable. I suppose she’s inviting me to leave.
I guess it’s time to move on.
Chapter 16
Joe
Hannah gapes at me, her eyes wide, a gigantic coffee hovering in the air in front of her face.
“Okay, where did you get that?”
I glance down at my brocade pantsuit in swirling ocean hues.
“Oh, this old thing?” I reply breezily. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
“Shit, you look hot!” Desi announces as she strides through the loading dock in a bright red sarong.
“Wow, so do you! Red is your color.”
“I know, right?” she answers, shaking her head and glancing down at her outfit.
“Martha says it’s too much for the gallery, though, so this may be the last time you see it.”
“Oh, she said that?”
I wonder for a moment if my outfit will be similarly edited. I do sort of look like a walking water lily.
“Yeah, she’s just mad,” Hannah shrugs, tapping sullenly on her laptop. “Didi missed two deliveries while you were gone. It’s a good thing you did so well at the opening or you would be hearing about it, I promise.”
“Oh yeah, congrats on that,” Desi chimes in. “We heard all about it. I’m glad you’re back, though. We’ve been swamped.”
I slide a box cutter over the packing tape of a large parcel, carefully opening the box and removing the paper-wrapped canvases inside.
“You’re swamped? What are you talking about? What did Didi miss?”
Desi shoots Hannah a warning look.
“Nothing, don’t worry about it,” she says quickly. “What have you got there? Are those more still-lifes? They better be Uglows or Martha is going to have a cow.”
“Nobody says have a cow anymore,” Hannah giggles.
Desi walks over with her hands out to poke at the parcel and I wave her off.
“Yes, they are Uglows,” I sniff. “I saw the emails come through when I was in Florida. Now, what are we talking about? Are we missing shipments?”
Desi and Hannah stare at each other and I see Desi shake her head, almost imperceptibly.
“Okay, where is Didi?” I ask, frustrated. “I’ll just ask her myself. Is she in her office?”
“Not likely,” Hannah scoffs. “It’s only eleven.”
“That’s not like her,” I say, mostly to myself.
