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48
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“There you are!” Michael exclaimed as he walked into the media room.
“Here I am,” I said.
“What are you up to?”
“Practicing my presentation.”
“Would you like an audience?”
“Not really.”
He grinned.
“Would you like to hear mine?” he asked.
“Sure.”
I sat down and got comfortable as he pulled a flash drive from his pocket and plugged it into my laptop. I noticed he was wearing his burgundy tie. I wondered if he’d chosen it on purpose.
A picture of revolving doors appeared on the projector screen. They reminded me of the lawyer’s office. A message in meme-style writing spread across the bottom.
It read:Revolving doors don’t slam!
I grinned.
“This has nothing to do with my presentation,” Michael said.
“Then why’s it there?”
“You’re not meant to ask questions until the end,” he pointed out.
“OK.”
“But because I like you, I’ll answer.”
“That seems fair.”
“It’s for you.”
“Me?”
“I considered putting up a picture of chocolate fish, but I don’t like chocolate.”
“You don’t?” I asked.
“No. Makes me sick.”
“Oh,” I said. “Then I’m afraid we can’t be friends.”
“Really?” he asked.
“Really. Unless…”
“Unless?”
