“Hey, don’t worry about it. You have enough to deal with in the present, without digging up the past.”
I swallow, nodding, even though the thought of Wolfe witnessing my humiliation is difficult to shake off.
I’m not ready to unpack more of this disaster-my anxiety levels are spiking as it is. Time for a subject change.
“Here, take a look at this…” I pull out the Daredevil action figure I had stashed under my monitor. “Do you know why I’ve got this on my desk?”
Matty frowns. “Why are you asking me? You’re into all that superhero shit.”
“Yeah, but I don’t display it at work.” I stare at Daredevil in my hands, then glance up-and my stomach plummets.
JP Wolfe is barreling down the aisle, his face an impenetrable mask of steel.
Oh, fuckadoodledoo.
HR Helen attempts to glide alongside him and engage him in conversation, but fails to hold his attention.
No, that’s all on me and my stupid Daredevil.
His eyes blaze with such ferocity that everyone on the floor must feel it.
Clearly, he thinks I’m unfit to work, sitting here playing with toys my first day back. I think I just aged in reverse. Compared to him, I feel like a child instead of a 27-year-old woman, and he’s only got ten years on me.
In a frenzy, I yank my chair back, smacking my knee in the process. Yowch.
I duck behind my monitor, shoving Daredevil under the desk-but the stupid plastic fool has other plans, rolling onto the floor, right into the path of the oncoming storm.
Cursing under my breath, I plunge to the floor to rescue Daredevil. Wolfe is practically upon me.
“Lucy.” His voice rumbles low. I’m imagining it, surely, but-no. That’s definitely my name rolling off his lips.
Heart pounding in my chest, I dare to look up at him. We’re locked in some bizarre unmoving vortex, eyes fused in an unspoken standoff.
My cheeks swell with a deep flush, my earlobes throbbing from the rush of blood.
I release a gargled, “Hi.”
As he begins to lean in, I make a desperate lunge for Daredevil, nabbing him before Wolfe can.
Then, I’m back in my chair quicker than a blink, feigning deep interest in my laptop screen as Wolfe glides past me.
I glance at Matty to gauge his reaction to the weird interaction between Wolfe and me, but he’s engrossed in some YouTube video.
What just happened?
My head feels forty shades of fucked up. I’m torn between the fear of Wolfe’s wrath and the intoxicating thrill of his unexpected attention.
And I haven’t the faintest idea which terrifies me more.
Lucy
Taylor. The last person I need to see.
She marches in, all business, skirt swishing, hair wrestled into a bun so severe it’d give that porn star-the one Matty was caught ogling on the company desktop-a run for her money.
Over the past year, she’s morphed into a new level of power player, her blazer even boasting shoulder pads, reminiscent of the ’80s superheroes’ costumes.
Instead of sitting, she stands in the aisle. “Boardroom five. Now.”
I glance around. Everyone seems unfazed-even Matty doesn’t so much as twitch an eyebrow.
She whirls around on her pointed heels, executing a theatrical pirouette, before sashaying off toward boardroom five.
One after another, my colleagues fall into line behind her.
Something’s not right here.
Even Matty peels himself off his desk, abandoning his cereal.
Alarmed, I snag his arm before he can join the departing herd. “What the hell’s going on? Why’s Taylor summoning us to the boardroom?”
He stares down at me. “Holy shit. You don’t know.”
A chill of apprehension skitters down my spine. “Know? Know what?”
“Taylor’s helming Project Tangra, Luce. Andy put her in charge.”
The blood drains to my feet. “Taylor’s my boss?” I rasp. “Is this some sort of sick office prank for my first day back? You’re all in on it, aren’t you? You, Spider, the girls, even Wolfe?”
He bursts out laughing. “Sorry, Luce, but this is comedy gold. Your face! But yeah, Taylor’s running the show.”
I’m too traumatized to speak.
Anybody else but her. I’d prefer to answer to Satan himself.
“Come on.” He nudges me up out of my seat. “Didn’t you figure it out from the emails?”
“No,” I hiss. “Taylor’s always been a bossy pain in the neck. I just thought she was being… well, her.”
Is this the memory my brain has been shielding me from? It all makes sense now.
“Has the last year been a living hell?” I whimper.
“Pretty much,” he deadpans.
I wait for the punchline, but it never comes.
He shrugs. “I thought Andy was tough with his Turkish buffet ban. Now he’s hands-off, and Taylor’s in charge, she barely lets me take a whiz.”
“Did we ever think about quitting?”
“Come on, you know we’re both too set in our ways to do that.”
We edge into the cramped boardroom.
I’m relieved all the seats are taken so I can hide at the back, propping up against the wall with Matty in front of me. Boardrooms make me claustrophobic, and I turn into a gibbering wreck when I have to speak.
With thirty of us packed like sardines, I attract a few curious stares. Some crane their necks to gawk at the woman with no memories.
If this were a comic, I’d be Captain Confusion.
Taylor struts to the head of the table, smoothing out her suit jacket.
“Lucy.” She smiles at me, her voice dripping with a sweetness that sets my teeth on edge. “We really can’t express how wonderful it is to have you back. Feeling better, I hope?”
“Like a million bucks,” I mutter, forcing a tight smile.
“That’s just great.” Her hands clasp over her chest like she’s auditioning for a soap opera. “On behalf of management, rest assured, we’re here to hold your hand through your recovery journey.”
“So you’re the boss now.” The words escape my lips as a whimper. This must be some sort of twisted nightmare. Any minute now, I’ll wake up in a hospital bed.
She grins momentarily before reining herself in. No doubt, she’s reveling in the horror flashing across my face. “Oh dear, you have forgotten a few things. Yes, I’m leading the project.”
Just like Taylor can’t hide her delight, I can’t hide my dismay. I try for nonchalance but end up pulling off an awkward grimace-smile.
Of all the rotten luck, having Taylor as the boss ranks alongside memory loss. Possibly worse.
I try to focus as she speaks-we’re in the first sprint of Phase Two and I’m excited, but it’s bittersweet because no matter how hard I work or how much I love the project, I’ll still have to answer to Taylor.
I wonder, how long did it take for me to swallow this bitter pill the first time?
Just when I think this meeting can’t get any worse, my neck prickles. Without even turning around, I can feel his presence. That scent.