Page 88 of Conspiracies and Chemistry

Abdomen.

I curled around the sharp stabs to cushion them. One more minute, then I’d open my eyes and get up. Today was the board meeting, and I owed it to Oliver to show up. Maybe he’d let me stand beside him, or maybe he’d still be too pissed off. Either way, I’d show him I was willing to try.

The dull pain in my head clamored to compete with the inflammation in my belly. Excellent.

Next time I saw Savannah, I’d ask her to activate her mom mode the next time we went to Danny’s. She’d ensure I had no more than one tequila shot. Okay, two.Definitelynever four again.

“Rise and shine, sleepyhead.” Savannah’s too-chipper voice was accompanied by the clink of a glass. “I want you to drink this whole glass of water.”

I blinked open my eyes. The light was weird, slicing through the west window. I propped myself up against the pillows. “Is there coffee?”

“There was,” she said, setting the glass of water on my bedside table, “but I tossed it out a few minutes ago, at noon. Want me to brew some more?”

I blinked my burning eyes wide. “It’s afternoon?”

“You were tired. I let you sleep in. But if you don’t get up now, you won’t sleep tonight.”

“The board meeting is today. This afternoon. I have to get there.” I threw back the covers. “Oof.” I groaned as I stood. Standing stretched muscles that wanted to stay curled up. I picked up my phone, then forced my feet to shuffle toward my closet.

Savannah followed me. “Drink this water. We can’t have you showing up for your grand gesture rough as a cob.”

I glugged the water, not sure what to ask about first. I went with, “My what?” as I scanned my closet for a pair of black stretchy pants that wouldn’t cut into my sore abdomen.

“Your grand gesture. It’s when the hero in the rom-com goes running through the airport to stop the heroine from getting on her plane.”

“I have so many questions.” I tugged on the pants. Thank god for spandex. “Why would the hero have to run through the airport? Isn’t he on the same flight?”

“No, I guess that one wouldn’t work in a post-9/11 world. In the old days, you didn’t have to have a ticket to roam the airport.”

“Really?” I turned my back to pull off my sleep shirt, blushing when I realized it was Oliver’s Dartmouth one he’d left behind.

“Yeah, did you not fly before that?”

I strapped on a bra. “No, Dad didn’t believe in airplanes. The Earth is flat, air travel is fake, etcetera.”

“Wait. Air travel isfake?What about cross-continental flights?”

“Wind to slow things down. Or the passengers’ perception of time is sped up by drugs piped through the air vents. There’s always an explanation.”

“Goodness gracious.”

“Exactly.” I slipped on a black tunic. “Second question, am I the hero in this scenario?”

“You’re the one who walked out, right?”

I slumped, cringing at the memory of slinking out of the building, not bothering to say goodbye to any of my former coworkers. “Yeah.”

“Then you’re the one who has to grovel. I don’t make the rules.”

I walked into the bathroom and brushed my teeth. My hair was a nest of tangles, but I didn’t have time to evict any woodland creatures who’d made their way in while I slept. I pulled it up into a ponytail and twined it into a bun.

“Do I look ready to disrupt a board meeting, then grovel?” I held my hands out.

“Let’s put on a dab of lip gloss so you don’t look so hungover.”

I rolled my eyes. “Fine.” I found a tube and handed it to Savannah. She carefully patted it onto my lips.

“Now you’re ready. Go grovel.”

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