Page 69 of How To Plot a Payback

“No. Permanently.”

The words float above the grassy field, and without hesitating, I drop to the ground. Miles’s ears perk up and he tilts his head, clearly confused as to why I’m suddenly nose to nose.

The answer is simple though.

Trauma.

People do all kinds of bizarre things out of trauma.

Go mute. Avoid escalators.

At this point, I’d jump in the lake on the other side of the park in order to avoid a run-in with Lavender Rhodes outside business hours.

Really, squatting on the ground behind a bench is not even remotely my limit.

And as for how quickly I reacted? Simple.

I have reached the point where I expect Lavender to show up anywhere, at any time. I have taken to locking every door of every room I sit in. I stand against the wall with eyes on the door, all day, at work. I am prepared at every moment, day or night, for Lavender Rhodes to waltz in and flip the platter that is my life upside down.

Only now, of course, I no longer take it sitting down.

Apparently I take it lying down. Behind a bench.

Chris frowns down at me. “Hey, man. You okay?”

Below the bench, I spot Lavender handing a phone to Sonya. “What do you think it means?” Lavender says.

“I don’t know, but I’m ticked,” Sonya replies. “I asked her for an update on next year’s contract, and this is what I get back.”

“You’ve just got a new email from Goodwin too.” Lavender pauses at the sound of a ding and pats her pocket before pulling her phone out. “Me too.”

The pair hover over their phones, squinting. Sonya in her trim white jogging suit, with white sneakers and white sunglasses. Lavender in a blue parka over jeans. Flip-flops. Sonya’s frown deepens.

I could outrun her if it came to it.

There’s a solid twenty feet between us. Fifty to the gated entry.

But wait. Where is . . . the beast?

The moment the thought bubble forms, I hear the pounding paws.

No, no.

No. No. No.

With his mouth wide open, tripping over his oversized puppy paws, Bernie races toward us. Slams into me as he pulls to a stop. And faces Miles.

Whom he begins licking furiously.

I’m stranded.

Chris says, “What’re you doing, Finn?”

What I want to do in this moment is tell him to shut his mouth. What I need in this moment is for that puppy to discover a squirrel and run far, far away.

But it appears I have to cut bait.

Abruptly, I stand.