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But the glass’s reflection of the room behind me lets me know it hasn’t all changed. This has been my domain for years now, a haven to steer this ship of a company into the next phase, time and time again. It’s my comfort zone, my sanctuary, but also where I feel the weight of the leadership most acutely. In here, it’s only me and my responsibilities to Fox.
In the darkness, I see a small circle of light moving right and left, obviously Mac doing a walkaround. Normally, Mac’s the type to hit the switches as soon as he can, though. Maybe there’s a light out? I squint, trying to get a better look, but I can’t make it out.
I flip off my desk light and look again, and the light bobs some more, flashing on and off twice. It looks like a . . . flashlight signal?
What the fuck?
The light starts to wave around, in circles and sweeping arcs, and even spinning. Unless Mac is fighting off coyotes down there, I’m pretty sure it’s not him because I think whoever has that flashlight is . . . dancing in the moonlight?
It’s then that it hits me. I know who it is.
It’s Tiffany. She came back for me.
I get up and leave my office, taking the stairs down to the first floor where there’s a side door. I open it carefully, calling out, “Tiffany?”
It occurs to me then that I might be a victim of wishful thinking. What if it’s Mark or Brandon out here trying to break in? I probably should’ve called Mac to do a check instead of coming out here alone.
Thankfully, my gut is right again and I hear Tiffany’s squeal of delight. “You came! How did you know I was here already?” She runs up to me, and in the sliver of light from inside, I can see that she’s wearing jeans and an olive sweatshirt with ribbon lacing on the shoulders. It looks soft and cozy.
She looks soft and cozy, and I want to fall into her.
“I saw the light dancing,” I explain. “Weren’t you trying to get my attention?”
She laughs, the sound bright in the dark. “I wasn’t dancing, I was setting up your surprise. Come here.”
Tiffany takes my hand easily because there’s no one left here to see other than Mac, and we’d hear him coming a mile away. Curious, I let her lead me down the slope of the canyon to a set of flagstone steps. “Elle and I found this spot years ago, but I’ve never seen anyone else use it. We used to call it our secret hideout, and I thought that might be exactly what you need tonight.”
“A hideout?” I echo.
“Yep . . . Ta-da!” she sings, holding her hands out wide, inviting me to look around.
It is a perfect secret hideaway spot. The surrounding grass is tall, at least knee-high, but there’s a small pocket where its trimmed short like a front yard, and a large, flat triangular rock makes for the perfect perch or makeshift table, which is what Tiffany’s done. She spread a blanket on the rock, setting out boxes of fried chicken from a local drive-thru joint.
“This is amazing,” I tell her earnestly, sitting down on the blanket and looking at the view from here. Without the separation of the glass, the valley seems bigger, deeper, and darker, but so does the night sky.
“I’m glad you like it,” she says as she sits down beside me, and I can feel the importance of her sharing this find with me. “I got us dinner too, but I figured after a day like today, we needed a treat. No salads or sushi. We need grease and fat and yummy goodness, so fried chicken, coleslaw, and sweet tea.”
I think my arteries clog from just the words, but my mouth waters. She’s right, we deserve this after dealing with today.
“Let’s eat while it’s hot.” She opens her box, going for the biscuit first, and I open mine, choosing the chicken breast to bite into. “Mmm,” she moans around a mouthful of white crumbs, some of which are spilling out onto her sweatshirt. “FYI, Stephanie and Megan conference called me earlier. When they left, their walk to their cars was basically a repeat of ‘oh, my God, what happened?’ and ‘do you think Tiff will tell us?’ By the time they got home, they called each other and then called me. I gave them the basics of what happened, mostly so that they’ll be prepared if Mark or Brandon show up. As the front line of the building, we need to know who to look out for and when to sound the alarm.”
“Better from you than from the rest of the rumor mill. I trust you one hundred percent, though the idea of your being on the front line makes me nervous. I think I’ll ask Mac to stay close to the main doors for a bit just in case, so he can look out for you.”
