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My jaw was clenched so tightly it made my entire head throb.
Routine maintained order amidst chaos. Following my routine would sooth my irritation.
My phone dinged. The text had to be from Esme, since Oma refused to participate in that particular flavor of technology. I forced a slow, even breath, and slipped the phone from my pocket.
There were several unanswered messages, including one from Esme—a photograph of a sunset over the water. I debated the appropriate response to a photograph of scenery, and settled on a thumbs up.
With that done, I switched my attention to the texts I had intended to read but failed to acknowledge yesterday. Jasper would understand. After fifteen years of friendship, he had more patience with me than most people did.
Jasper: What are the chances you’re free this weekend?
Zero.
Jasper: A friend of mine is lending me his beach house Friday night. You should come. We can get back Sunday morning, plenty of time to rest up before your early morning on Monday.
I plannedto work on Friday night. Saturday as well.
Jasper: It’s been forever. Would be good to see you.
I frowned downat my phone. It had been a long time, so long I wasn’t sure when we’d last socialized. As a rule, I tried to socialize as little as possible.
Me: I can’t. But if you’re back in Epiphany on Sunday, I’ll be completing odd jobs at Oma’s.
Me: Would be good to see you, too.
I returnedmy attention to the task at hand—my midday meal. Everything in my lunch had its place as well—fork on napkin to the right, water bottle to the left.
I reached for the box’s lid.
A rapping came from my door. No one was supposed to be here during my lunch break. If the cause wasn’t a catastrophic emergency, the interrupter deserved to be fired.
I folded my hands at the edge of the desk. “Enter.”
Pamela stepped into the room and shut the door behind her. Her pinstripe blazer and severe bun matched both the sharpness of her umber gaze and my mood. Whatever news she intended to deliver was sure to further agitate me.
Upon crossing the room, she didn’t bother to sit this time, instead choosing to linger behind the chair opposite mine with her iPad clutched to her chest.
“Pertinent intelligence has come to light,” she said.
She might as well have said nothing at all, given the lack of information in her words.
“Get on with it,” I said.
“Biotabloom Dynamics is considering pulling outbeforethe meeting.”
I was supposed to have until February fourteenth to win them over. The potential hiccups for this deal were supposed to remain potential.
“What changed?” I asked.
“Unclear.”
“They didn’t offer a reason?” My pulse picked up. Ineededthis merger to happen. Biotabloom Dynamics had contracts with international governments. They were my best chance of getting my carbon-reducing eukaryotic organisms into landfills around the globe. I took a breath. “They’re taking this from me and offering nothing in explanation?”
“It’s in discussion. The decision has not been finalized.”
In discussion—as in Biotabloom Dynamics was considering this course of action privately amongst themselves and Pamela had somehow intercepted that intelligence.
“So there’s still time to act,” I said, only half in question.
