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I’m nursing a nearly cold coffee when Karlene pops into my office.
“Good,” I lie. “You?”
She looks behind her and then slips in and shuts the door.
“Who’s out there?”
She makes a face. “Eleanor.”
It’s no secret that Karlene and our boss, Eleanor, don’t exactly see eye to eye. And while I’m more philosophically aligned with Karlene, I also know better than to clash with the woman in charge. Karlene, not so much.
“She’s apparently on a whiteboard kick. Installed them in all of the boardrooms and is handing them out left and right.”
I’m too tired to ask why Eleanor is doling out whiteboards on a Monday morning. I had maybe three good hours of sleep last night courtesy of one Hayden Tanner.
“‘A fight with your boss is always a loss,’” I say, quoting my father.
Karlene plops down in the chair in front of my desk.
“I mean, she’s fine. I’m just not in the mood.”
“I thought you and your mom had a spa day yesterday?”
Karlene takes a sip of her coffee. “We did. And I’m in a terrific mood.” She gives me a pointed look. “Unlike you. Care to tell me what happened?”
No point in denying it.
“I have a meeting in ten.”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“What? I do.”
“So make it quick.”
It’s embarrassing to admit how little willpower I exhibited this weekend.
“So, remember how I said I wouldn’t text Hayden until Monday?”
Her jaw drops.
“You didn’t . . .”
I wish I hadn’t.
“I did. And we went back and forth a bit.”
I look at a framed photo of my family on my desk, feeling even worse about my impulsive decision to go to lunch with Hayden yesterday. I can’t imagine what my parents would say about such a rash, impulsive act. I thought about calling my sister last night but decided against it. She lives a block away from our parents, which sometimes divides her loyalties a bit more than I would like. And the last thing I need is for anyone else to know about this particular conundrum.
“It gets worse,” Karlene comments, correctly. “I can tell.”
I’m sure I look as sheepish as I feel.
“He kind of was in the neighborhood and . . .”Just spit it out, Ada.“We met up for lunch?”
Karlene’s eyes widen. “Excuse me?”
“Yep. AtL’aile.” I forge ahead. “A nearly three-hour lunch.”
