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A whole world ahead of those three girls.
Who would have predicted the tragedy waiting just ten years down the road?
When I feel tears pooling, I stuff the photo between the pages and place the book on the shelf.
That’s enough for memory lane today.
While plopping down at my desk, I decide it’s probably remorse regarding Cal that’s causing the paranoia about myless-than-cheerywelcome. No one here is shunning me. It’s all in my head.
Despite the good I’ve done, the shame consumes me at times.
Even if the men and women of Redlegarejudging me, I’ve already judged myselffar moreharshlythan they ever could. Even more than Klein has.
I’ve convicted myself on all charges.
And I deserve it.
Wait. No. Fuck that.
Miriam Bennett— err, Miriam Owens— doesn’t take anyone’s shit.
Although it feels slimy, I had damn good reasons for doing what I did.
If Tomer won’t come and greet me, then I’ll go to him. I won’t be pushed aside or treated like a second-rate citizen. I have the skills he needs on his team, and he’s going to respect me. Dammit.
As soon as I find him.
Chapter6
Surprise! You're still fucked
KLEIN
Tomer cuts a harsh glare at me over the rim of his glasses. “Are you going to help, or are you going to continue brooding?”
For once, we’re in my office instead of the lair. Tomer popped in to discuss the changes he’s making to Big Brother in response to Mia’s hack.
Ugh.Mia.
I’ve known she was gettingmyjob for three weeks now, but I’m still fuming. No one knows what to make of my attitude since I’m normally a happy-go-lucky guy. The scowl I’ve been constantly sporting is giving me wrinkles around the sides of my mouth, and my forehead is rapidly becoming permanently creased. If this continues, I’ll look way older than my thirty-five years.
Then again, Sammy Davis Jr. had a famously wrinkled forehead, and he was a god among men. Perhaps it’s not a bad thing.
Keep tellin’ yourself that, sonny boy.
From across my desk, Tomer stares me down. Waiting for my response.
“Sorry, T. Yeah, I’m going to help. I just ran into Mia in the break room, and it was,” I pause, searching for the word, “unsettling.”
Unsettling. Confusing. Frustrating.
And most inconveniently… arousing.
Tomer’s eyes roll backward in annoyance as he heaves a mix between a groan and a sigh. Would that be a grigh? A soan?
He leans back in his chair and studies me. “What’s your problem with her anyway?”
For a fleeting moment, words fail me, and I sputter out inarticulate gibberish. “Ar-her-at-sig-she-gah-I.”
