Page 124 of Big Dill

Her brow furrows. “Mr. Kane is away on business.” She types something quickly into her computer, the sharp clicks echoing in the quiet room. “Are you sure there was a private meeting?”

“Positive,” I reply, forcing calm into my voice, though my heart starts hammering in my chest. My God, did I get this wrong? Did Elise? I fumble for my phone, opening my calendar to double-check. “It was for today, two o’clock.”

The woman glances at my screen, then hers. “Oh, dear. I don’t have anything on the calendar for today.” Her fingers clatter against the keyboard with a little panic in her rhythm.

“My friend set it up. Elise Jennings. She’s a friend of Mr. Kane’s. She arranged this.”

The name seems to give the receptionist pause. She taps at the keyboard again, slower this time. “Elise Jennings. I’m not familiar with her.”

“She’s a costume designer. Went to design school here in Toronto. She met him when he visited the campus to talk to the students.” I keep my voice steady, but inside, panic prickles at the edges of my mind.

“Okay,” the woman responds, but her tone is skeptical. After a moment, she leans back slightly, her voice dropping as if she’s delivering bad news carefully. “Jami… Mr. Kane rarely takes private meetings and he doesn’t do visits to the local campus. Are you sure you have the right buyer?”

My stomach twists into knots, a sharp ache pressing behind my eyes. My head starts to throb. “Will he be back soon? I’m sure we can get this all straightened out.”

“He’s out of town. Won’t be back until next week. I can mention this to him when he calls, but in the meantime, perhaps you should call your friend.”

“I will. Thank you.” My voice is small, barely hiding the panic and disappointment curling in my chest. I pick up my phone, feeling the weight of my carry-on bag and my own nervous energy pressing down on me.

The receptionist offers a tight smile, a hint of pity in her eyes, and I force a nod in return. As my mind races. Elise…what did she tell him? Did she forget? Did he forget? Or…did I just completely misread everything?

I’m about to leave, and I must look a mess, on the brink of tears, mascara threatening to streak, hair sticking to my forehead from the heat and nerves, when the receptionist says, gently, “Did you travel from far?”

I swallow hard, the knot in my throat almost choking me, and manage a small, shaky laugh. “Churchill Falls, Labrador.”

Her eyes go wide. “Oh my, you did.” Her smile is soft, motherly, the kind I’ve always craved, the kind I’d do just about anything to receive from my own mother. “I’m sorry about this mix-up, Jami. I wish there was more I could do.”

I force a smile and step outside, needing desperately to talk to Elise. But I don’t have her phone number. Why the heck didn’t I get her phone number?

Dragging my luggage down the busy street, I squint at the city around me—the honk of horns, the chatter of pedestrians, the scent of fresh bread and coffee from cafés spilling onto the sidewalk. I scan for the cute café I spotted earlier, my heels clicking against the pavement, each step heavier than the last. My feet ache, my nerves fray, but I push on.

Inside the café, it takes forever to get a coffee and I have to wait for a seat. I finally get one and slide into a quiet corner, the steam from the cup rising as I try to calm my shaking. I need to talk to Elise, and the best way to do that is through Brody. But first, I’m going to drink my coffee to calm myself down. God, the pity on the receptionist’s face, I’m still embarrassed.

After a long time, I pull up Brody’s number and hit call. The phone rings once…twice… three times… Just as I’m about to hang up, a breathless voice answers.

“Hello?”

My heart nearly stops. “Elise?”

“Yes… who’s this?”

She doesn’t recognize my voice?

“It’s me. Jami.”

“Oh… Jami…” Her voice goes muffled, like she’s covering the phone, words not meant for me. A moment later, she comes back. “Sorry about that. What’s going on?”

“The meeting,” I blurt out. “There was no meeting.” She laughs, soft, casual, oblivious to the tremor in my voice. “Did you hear me?”

“Oh yes, I heard you. That’s strange.”

That’s all she has to say?

I take a breath, my hands tightening around the phone. “I talked to the receptionist. Mr. Kane is out of town. There was no meeting. She said she didn’t even recognize your name and that he doesn’t visit the local campus.”

A lightbulb flickers in my brain, sharp, blinding…sickening.

Oh. My. God.