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“Well, there’s a reason I can’t ever go back to the state of Louisiana,” Heidi said, averting her eyes.
“Come again?” I stopped walking. “There’s a whole state you can’t go to?”
“On the advice of my lawyer,” she said primly. “Theyprobably have a Heidi Cross ‘Search and Destroy’ order. Melon might, too. All I’m saying is nobody likes being tricked, especially old white dudes.”
“I didn’t trick him,” I insisted. “He did that by himself.”
“I helped,” Heidi said.
Had she ever.
“Honestly, right now I’m just hoping to avoid Taggart the most. I know it’s not entirely his fault I’m in this mess—”
“It’s not his faultat all,” Heidi broke in.
“—but I’d rather not have to hear how he’s taken all my old projects and run them into the ground. And I’d rather not see my old boss and have to tell him how things are going on the Artemis team. I can only imagine how he’d react to this whole thing.”
“Probably laugh his ass off, then march you straight over to Melvin and formally introduce you.”
Definitely needed to avoid that. But this couldn’t go on forever, and I had to rip off the Band-Aid. The sooner, the better. Besides, I was confident my skills had won him over. I wasready. I’d straightened my hair (which unfortunately made it long enough to sit on) and wound it into a bun. I’d pulled a page from the New York book and dressed in black and white with a black coat and low heels. I’d worn no jewelry, save an understated pair of gold stud earrings. I had on eyeliner and lipstick and a touch of foundation. Covering my freckles always went a long way toward making me look more like my real age, twenty-seven, and less like the teenager I was often mistaken for. There was no glitter anywhere in sight.
“Patrick probably agrees with me,” she continued as we walked into the building. “This is a bad idea.”
I tried to choose my words carefully since Heidi was a sensitive soul, but like always, they tumbled out before I could stop them. “What’s the other solution? Dress like a man? Quit my job? Read more Hemingway? Hire Harrison Ford?”
“I don’t think we could afford him, even if we pooled our money. I just wish you could keep it going a little longer,” she said, but I could tell I’d made my point. “You could at least have worn a fedora,” she muttered.
I saw an old coworker in the lobby and ducked my head. “Maybe a fedora isn’t your worst idea.” At least the meeting wasn’t on my old floor. It would probably be fine.
We reached the elevator, and Heidi leaned down to give me a quick hug before going back to her desk, careful not to bump the coffee caddy I was carrying. “Text me after,” she said. “Good luck.”
I nodded and got on the elevator, planning to hit Patrick’s floor on twenty before heading back down to the meeting on fifteen. I had the elevator to myself until the fourth floor. Then the door slid open, and my heart dropped into my feet. Melvin Hammer got in. I’d recognize him anywhere. He had a tiny picture that showed up in the corner of every email he sent. Permanent frown, slight mustache, and full beard. He reminded me of Theodore Roosevelt, complete with the swagger and slightly too-small clothing (no monocle). It was easy to imagine him having a few pet bears like Teddy was rumored to have. Just because he could.
Just before the door slid closed, a young man joined us. He caught my eye instantly. Tousled brown hair, stubble, and oversize horn-rimmed glasses. Something about him was vaguely familiar. One of the men smelledreally good, and I had a suspicion it wasn’t Melvin. When the elevator started moving again, I tried to ignore the younger man and grabbed my chance. “Hi,” I squeaked at Melvin, then cleared my throat. I’d meant that to come out at least an octave lower.
He turned, as if surprised to see me there, and nodded vaguely. “Where are you headed, miss?”
“Making a quick stop on twenty, then I’m going to the Artemis team meeting on fifteen,” I answered, straightening my shoulders.
“Ah,” he said and smiled down at me. Then, before I could say anything, he reached out and took one of the coffees out of the caddy and took a long drink. I stared open-mouthed as he drained it and the elevator door opened onto the fifteenth floor. He threw the empty cup in the trash bin. “Next time, make sure it’s a little less bitter,” he said over his shoulder as he got off.
“That wasn’t coffee,” I blurted after him furiously as the doors closed. “Those were the tears of my enemies!”
“No wonder it was bitter,” someone said from behind me.
I jumped, spilling some of Patrick’s mocha onto the floor. I knew that voice. It was the smooth, soft voice of the guy who talked about boring things like budgets in our monthly meetings. My heart rate went up, and I looked over, embarrassed. Why didhehave to be the one to witness this? My cheeks flushed and I put my hand on my forehead. “Sorry,” I muttered, then turned to face him. “Who does that?” I asked, gesturing to the elevator doors.
He shrugged. “Melvin is… I want to sayspecial, but that’s not the right word. Entitled?”
“Thank you, Melvin, but now my princess is in a different castle,” I said grumpily.
He let out a startled laugh. “You playSuper Mario?”
I shrugged. “Yeah. It’s pretty great. The nostalgia almost outweighs the misogyny, you know?”
He grinned at me. “Agreed. You know, you could always drink that one,” he said, pointing to the other coffee I was holding.
It was my turn to laugh. “This is a white chocolate mocha with extra whip. Mine was a cold brew.”
