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"I read next." She shrugged and took a long drink from her water bottle. "You know who also read next?"
All amusement was wiped from Tyson's face. "You're joking."
Seline pressed her lips together, shaking her head. “That'd be a shitty joke."
“Definitely.” He reached for his phone to confirm his mistake. I was lost as to why it mattered—he knew I was coming and let me into the building. That was the most important thing about today, right? Getting me inside to work.
Seline gave me an apologetic smile. “I think I saw her in the break room. She should be out here any second."
"Wonderful," Tyson muttered, mostly to himself.
"This is going to be entertaining." Seline swayed again, this time more excited. "I'm going to grab a snack. Don't like watching shows on an empty stomach."
I glanced at Tyson for some sort of explanation. “Show?”
“Don't,” Tyson called after her, but Seline was already halfway down the hall, “scare her like that."
“I'm scared?” I asked, trying to smile, but the gesture was harder to pull off now. "Is there something to be scared about?"
“No, no, of course not. Seline likes to be dramatic.” Tyson’s laugh was too shaky to be considered confident. “Everyone was informed of you joining our–oh, morning, Sage.”
I felt a pinch in my spine, making me straighten. Tyson cleaned up his posture, too.
I waited for her to come into view instead of turning to greet her, because I needed a few seconds to fix my expression. Wearing panic was not how I wanted my working relationship to begin with Sage. I couldn’t let her see I was intimidated. I wasn’t intimidated, because there was nothing about her work that was any better than mine. We had gone on separate paths, and we eventually ended up at the same place…
You deserve to be here, I chanted as I listened to what had to be a heavy pair of boots move closer.
“Morning, Ty,” she greeted. Sage wore all-black, just like she used to in college. Her jeans hugged her waist perfectly and flared out at the ankle, making her seem even taller. At six-one, I’d always been the tallest woman in the room at most places, but Sage almost gave me a run for my money, clocking in at only a few inches shorter than me.
Her hair was in thick braids with wooden beads added to the ends. Over a skin-tight turtleneck, she wore some kind of harness that reminded me of a gun holster.
A familiar urge to redo my entire wardrobe emerged. I used to feel like such a dork next to her in my pastel cardigans and floral skirts. I thought I’d outgrown the feeling, but no, it must have just been dormant.
“Giving tours again?” She barely met my gaze. I’d only half-believed she wouldn’t remember me, but now that it was happening, I was a little taken aback. Offended.
“Um, no.” Tyson laughed hesitantly. “This is Noah Blue.”
Sage blinked and looked at me, really looked at me. A beat passed before she offered, "Noah Blue...”
“Yes. Our new artist," Tyson said. "Your new artist.”
Her new artist? My stomach twisted in confusion. Was my sister right? Did I work for Sage?
“My new artist?” She shook her head. "I'm sorry, I'm still waking up. When did this happen?"
Tyson took a deep breath. “Remember, we had a meeting about bringing someone else on to help you with Leisah’s rebrand?”
Her brows knitted. “Yeah, but I didn’t think it’d be in-house. We talked about remote options.”
Tyson rubbed the back of his head. “I could have sworn we discussed the importance of having someone here.”
“Impromptu meeting,” she said in a tone, indicating authority and overuse.
“Sage.” Tyson leaned his head back for a second and groaned. “I don’t have time for this. I have a billion meetings today.”
“I’m back with snacks,” Seline announced, voice proud and thrilled. Her smile widened when she saw her predicted show. “What did I miss?”
“I had the same question," I forced myself to confess. "I thought I was a head artist?"
