Page 8 of Small Sacrifices

As he speaks, he can see Everett's face pinch like he's tasting something sour. His eyebrows draw together, his eyes squint,and even his mouth is slightly pursed. It sends a frisson of panic down Reid's spine. He doesn't like that answer.

"You really believe all that?" Everett asks. There's some sort of undertone to his words, dark and flat, but Reid doesn't know what it means.

"Of course."

Everett drags a hand through his hair and, for just a moment, the sight of it running between his fingers like ink mesmerizes Reid. But then he sees the man shake his head.

"Right, of course." Brown eyes look down at him. "You know, if you really do, you should be careful. People like that tend to get chewed up and spit out by this place."

"Excuse me?"

Everett chuckles. "It's nothing. Just don't let them run you into the ground, 'kay? I need to be somewhere." He pats Reid's shoulder with a heavy hand. Then, without waiting for a response, he turns and walks away.

Reid wants to shout after him, demand an explanation. The presumption of it burns.People like that.How flattering to hear that someone who doesn't even know him also thinks this job will overwhelm him. Just like his parents do.

It takes a while for Reid to rip himself out of his thoughts. But even when he finally reaches his desk, moments before Mr. Wright swaggers through the room and into his own office, he's still preoccupied.

Marisol notices. And she makes sure that he notices she noticed. There's an inordinate amount of eyebrow-waggling before she finally gives up on nonverbal communication. "What crawled up your ass and died?"

"The governor's son." It's not the best way to phrase an answer to that question, but he doesn't have the energy for nuance right now.

She laughs. "What, did you get pranked? I thought he'd grown out of that. Isn't he a teenager now?"

"No," Reid groans and rubs his hands across his face. "I meant the older one. He basically told me I needed to find a different job."

"What, why?"

"That’s what I’d like to know. Is he always that… difficult?" The idea of calling him an asshole is uncomfortable somehow, even though he wasn't very nice.

A furrow forms between Marisol's brows. "What are you talking about? He's cool."

"He wasn't being very cool a few moments ago," Reid grumps. His hands are in his hair again, and that's not good. He wants to look presentable for the meeting, so he shouldn't be messing it up now. For someone who's had his curls his entire life, he's remarkably bad at taking care of them and styling them properly.

Marisol laughs. "Maybe he's not a morning person."

Reid grunts, mostly to keep himself from mentioning the good mood Everett had seemed to be in before it so suddenly changed. The issue must've been something else. Maybe it was just Reid. He has that effect on people sometimes. Whatever it was, he has to stop thinking about it. If he's going to make a positive impression in this meeting, he can't be distracted, and he can't be grumpy. He's not nearly old enough to command respect with a bad mood.

He's unsuccessful. At some point, he just gives up and flees. On his third day, he discovered a small restroom off the beaten path, down a corridor that seems to be used for storage. It's clean, and not too outdated, but the light is always off when Reid enters. He's never met another person here. Which is excellent for his purposes. He locks himself into the stall furthest from the door, sits down on the lid of the toilet, and attempts to meditate.

It's difficult to concentrate in his office on a good day. The open space layout may be modern, but whatever they saved by not building dividing walls cannot possibly be worth the loss of productivity caused by how difficult the presence of other people makes it to focus. Or maybe that's just Reid?

It's a bit better in here. He can still occasionally hear someone walk by, heels clicking or leather soles slipping on the granite.Expensive shoes are a health hazard,he thinks, and then reprimands himself and tries to clear his head again. He times his breaths and listens to the whirring of the light affixed to the ceiling.In, two, three, out, two, three. In, two, three, out, two, three.

Chapter 5: The big meeting

His calm doesn't last for long once he finally leaves his cocoon. There's a frantic look on Marisol's face when she hurries over to him as soon as he walks back into the office.

"There you are!" She's whispering as loudly as she can, which should be his first clue that something's wrong. The second clue is when she says, "Did you know they moved the meeting? You weren't CC'd on the email."

"What? No."

She swears under her breath. "Well, then. You have ten minutes to look at your notes, and then we need to leave for the meeting room."

Reid feels his hands grow clammy. Seriously? It's a good thing he did all the relevant work just yesterday.

He watches as Marisol winds a silky black curl around her finger as she frowns. "They must've forgotten to add your name to the mailing list. That shouldn't have happened."

It's in moments like these that Reid finds he's incredibly thankful for her, even though he doesn't really know her still. She's a very no-nonsense sort of person, but she's kind. He has the impression she immediately noticed that he's a bit overwhelmed by this place. But she's never once commented on it. She just makes room for him to escape sometimes.

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