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The room seems to tilt, or maybe that’s my world, tipping on its axis with everything sliding off.
How is it possible?
“Leadership consultant?” Henry bites out, confused.
I’m not confused—not when I meet Brett’s eyes. He knows exactly who Denny is. He knows exactly who I am. Vonda.
“Denny’ll be working closely with us on board leadership and cohesiveness issues,” Brett announces in a friendly, casual way that’s everything fake. “I think this will be especially helpful to you, Vicky. To get you integrated, to get us working in tandem instead of at odds. You’ll be working very closely with Denny. Every board meeting, Denny will be right there, helping you integrate productively.”
My mouth goes dry.
“What is this?” Henry says. “Vicky doesn’t need leadership consulting.” He looks between me and Brett. “What’s going on?” He sets Smuckers’s carrying purse on the table.
“Kaleb and I agree this could really be good for the board,” Brett says. “We made the move. It’s within our rights to add a board consultant. We don’t need a majority for that, just twenty-five percent. His salary is a matter of operations budget…” He’s rattling off company jargon, bylaws jargon.
Denny’s up and out of his chair, meanwhile.
My mouth goes dry as he nears; I feel too frightened even to move.
He goes around to Henry first. He takes his hand and pumps it up and down. “I’ve done a lot of work with the Percival Group. I went to Yale with Dale Runson, who I think you know.”
Denny’s naming off names. I look over at April. She furrows her brows.
“Okay.” Henry sounds annoyed.
I’m a little bit behind him. He doesn’t see me backing away. He lets go and addresses Brett. “Let’s take five. I need a sidebar here with you and Kaleb.”
“Denny’s a board consultant,” Brett says. “The point here is to include him, even in sidebars.” Brett looks at me. “You don’t have a problem with this, do you, Vicky? Part of being a competent board member is to work well with others. If you don’t think you can work with Denny…”
Denny smiles. “Vicky! I’m excited for the opportunity to work with you. I feel like we can accomplish a lot together.” He’s coming to me. I tell myself to stand firm, to not back up anymore, but I take a step back. Another.
Denny has his hand out. “I promise you—”
I back up, senses reeling. “Get away!” The words come out a whisper, like one of those dreams where you can’t seem to make your voice work.
“I understand that they sprang it on you,” Denny says, stopping in front of me, way too close. “But before long, it’ll be old home week, I promise.” He grabs my hand, making me touch him, making me shake it. I yank it, but he won’t let go.
In a flash, a vicious hand clamps Denny’s arm. Denny’s head rocks forward as Henry yanks him backward, throws him up against the glass wall.
There’s shock in Denny’s eyes in the moment before Henry drives a fist into his face.
Denny staggers sideways. Smuckers barks madly. There’s a crack in the glass like a lopsided star.
Henry turns to me. “You okay?”
“No!” I’m backing away, away from it all. Henry comes to me but I fling up a hand. I don’t know what stops him in his tracks—the wild motion or maybe the look on my face.
I grab my purse and burst out the door, run across to the elevators. Henry calls to me, but I’m stab-stab-stabbing the button. I have to be away from them—all of them.
Henry’s flying toward me just as the doors open. I get in and stab stab stab the doors shut—who says that doesn’t work? I ride down to the lobby, alone. The ride seems to take forever; the air inside the little box is way too bright.
It seems like forever before I’m out on the street, out in the too-dreary, too-crowded morning that seemed so promising not fifteen minutes ago. I push upstream against the workers and tourists, edge through a line at a bagel breakfast sandwich truck and head around a corner, weaving through the crowd, heading toward the water.
Smuckers is still back there. Shit.
I duck into a dark doorway and text April to ask her to see to Smuckers. I don’t know what to do or what to tell her. She’ll figure it out.
I’m in some kind of a service doorway, a skinny stairway with an unmarked black door at the back of me.
