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seven and nine. Cautious. Scared, yet pressing forward
anyway. Sweet in her own way. The Giana who cooks roasts
and tackles me on the stairs and asks me to spend the night.”
“Fuck,” Giana cursed, her shoulders bowing in under the
weight of those words. Of the thousand lifetimes it felt like
she’d lived, an ancient soul in a haunted body. “There used to
be something in me. Something like that. I haven’t felt it in a
long time. Not until you.”
Coralyn nodded. “People might think you’re closed off and
that you have no heart, but I know you do. Not all things can
be made right, but some of them can, and the rest, maybe they
can be glued messily. So, with that long-winded speech at
seven in the morning, am I going to get ready for work while
you go on your way to your office, or am I calling in sick and
probably going to get fired?”
“But if you get fired—”
“Then I guess I’ll have no choice but to come work for
you.”
Giana nearly let out a shout of joy, and how crazy would
that look, standing out in the hallway as she was. “Oh look. An
emergency meeting just came up for me out of office. Give me
a minute while I send an email to my secretary telling her how
to handle it.”
Coralyn rolled her eyes, but her smile was wide and joyful.
“Do it from inside. Do you like eggs?”
“What kind of eggs?”
“The only eggs there are. Scrambled, with cheese and hot
sauce.”
“Sounds dangerous.”
“Yes, but you love dangerous.”
