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“When are we going home again?”
“This is our home.”
“Wilmington, when are we going there?”
“Next week, just in time for Christmas.”
Something in my brain felt amiss. It was one of those things that bug you, like a hangnail or pimple. You forget about it for a while, but soon, it’s there, nagging, needing attention. It had something to do with Tyra, with her gambit with the shareholders. What was about that bugged me? I added salt and pepper to the stew and bit my lip. What?
And then, it came to me.
Chapter eighteen
ItwasWinterCelebrationparty day organized by my workplace, and Marcie has volunteered to babysit Emily while I am out for the party as she would rather be with Emily than go to the party.
“Are you sure you don’t mind?”
Marcie rolled her eyes. “Asked and answered, as they say on TV. I gave up on office parties two years ago. Alcohol and heavy breathing can get you in trouble. I won’t say who or exactly where, but I remember enough to be glad it didn’t go to DEFCON one.”
I laughed. “I’ll try to remember that. Emily is primed for a Christmas movie and ice cream. I recommendMiracle on Thirty-Fourth Streetsince it includes a girl roughly Emily’s age.”
“Got it. By the way, I’m pretty sure he’ll be there tonight. In a way, I’m sorry I’m not going. There might be some fireworks.”
“I hope not. I want this to be low-key but devastating.”
“Roger that, boss.”
“Yeah, right, I’m the boss. Not tonight.”
I kissed Emily goodbye, making sure she knew I would be home later. She promised to be good, which was an iffy promise. Emily would be as good as she needed to be in order to get what she wanted…totally human. I thought that would be a good test for adults. Could they do what was totally human? That would work—until someone redefined what was “totally human.”
I drove to the restaurant, whose large, private room would host the Winter Celebration party. For most people, it was a standard Christmas party, complete with a Christmas tree and ornaments. The party was limited to Human Resources and several other divisions. It was more efficient to have several smaller parties than one huge party for the entire organization. Management couldn’t be too involved in planning and execution. Committees did all the work. Every division possessed at least one gung-ho employee.
I found a table away from the dance floor and the DJ, who had already started his playlist. I had no idea how many times I would hearGrandma Got Run Over by a Reindeerduring the party, but I was sure it would be more than once. The other people at the table were mixed. Some were from HR, and one or two were from other areas. We knew each other casually, and it would remain that way until the booze started flowing. Drinks had been paid for. I had no doubt more than one employee would take that as an invitation to be over-served, as the expression went. I hoped all of them knew how to dial UBER on their phones.
“You’re sitting in my seat.”
I turned to the voice and smiled. “No, Codrin, that’s your seat. I pointed to the one across the table.
He smiled, and I shivered. I asked myself if I was ever going to get over that reaction.
“I suppose you’re right. Of course, the view from over there is exquisite.”
I smiled at the compliment, knowing we would be trading looks throughout the party. He was casually but meticulously dressed. Red and green were the colors of the night. I wore my own version of Christmas regalia. Several people at the table wore fake antlers on their heads. Others had strung blinking tree lights around their necks. The party was starting slowly, and that was a good sign. The drunks would take over later.
I kept my eyes moving, trying not to stare at Codrin and not to miss who I was looking for. My plan rested on the arrival of two people. I wasn’t exactly sure how things would go, but I was prepared.
“What are you drinking?”
I followed the voice. Somehow, Codrin had managed to leave his seat and end up right next to me.
“Tonic water with lime,” I said.
“Nothing with a zing?”
“I’m driving.”
“I can take you home.”
