Page 76 of All's Fair in Love and Blackmail

A couple nods, a couple murmurs, and then Herb speaks again. “Anyway,” he says, “this is what we’re going to do. Veronda is going to start drafting our script”—Veronda smiles broadly, smoothing her hands down the front of her tweed dress jacket—“and I want Felix and Marsha on archive duty. Pull anything related to these topics, and we’re open to adding a few more if you think of something, aren’t we?” He looks at Veronda, who nods. “I’d like everyone else tracking down any sources that are still around, anyone who contributed to these stories, to see what they think about the story being retold. And content for the upcoming issue needs to be finalized soon,” he finishes, “so get all your other pieces in by deadline, please.” Then, turning his gaze to all of us, he adds, “Thoughts?”

It’s clear he’s not actually asking for our thoughts; he’s just waiting for our agreement. I nod dutifully, as do the rest of the group. It’s a good thing I’m almost done with theLucky is for Loverspiece.

Almost done with the piece; almost done with asking India for help. I sigh and rub my temples, and when Herb dismisses us, I’m one of the first back to my desk.

By the time I head to my car at the end of the day, I’m exhausted, and I have no idea why. I trudge through the little parking lot with feet barely leaving the ground; I slump into the driver’s seat and let my head fall forward to rest gently on the steering wheel.

I need a nap. Or a run. Maybe both.

Unfortunately, neither of those options is available to me at this precise moment, unless I want to run home in my work clothes. So as I turn over the days’ events in my mind, I make a phone call instead.

I don’t call Poppy a ton; if we need to talk, we usually text. But I’m driving, and this isn’t a conversation I want to have texting anyway.

The phone rings twice before she picks up.

“Hey,” she says when she answers.

“Hey,” I say, and I’m suddenly weirdly nervous. Why am I calling her, again? For advice? That feels unnecessary, doesn’t it?

I speak anyway. “Uh, do you have a second?”

There’s a beat of silence, and then she says, “Yeah, sure.” Her voice is unmistakably curious. “What’s up?”

“Is Cyrus with you?”

“No,” she says, and I can hear the eye roll in her voice. “Contrary to popular belief, we are not always together.”

“Good,” I say, drumming my fingers on the steering wheel. “Good.” But when I don’t say anything else, shetsks.

“Are you gonna talk? What’s this about, Felix?”

“Uh, right. Okay. So.” I clear my throat. “There’s this thing happening at work. We’re doing a program on the history of the paper, sort of.”

“Okay,” Poppy says slowly.

“Yeah. And so we’re bringing in different features we’ve done over the years. And one of the things we covered years ago was the Bicentennial Pageant. I was one of the ones who covered it, actually. Back when I was interning.”

“Okay…?”

I take a deep breath and go on. “And I’m worried that something might come up about the—ah—the wardrobe malfunction that happened in the Peter and the Wolf dance.”

There’s another beat of silence from Poppy, but this time when she answers, I can tell she finally understands where our conversation is going.

“Oh,” she says, drawing the word out.

“Yeah,” I say. “And there was a time not so long ago that I actually threatened to tell everyone who that was if India didn’t help me with the article?—”

“Felix,” Poppy says, her voice full of disapproval. “That’s low.”

“I wouldn’t actually do it,” I say quickly. “And I told her that later. It was dumb. I shouldn’t have said it. Butmy point is,” I go on, speaking louder because she shows signs of interrupting, “that now this has come up at work, and I’m a little concerned.”

“Yeah,” she says with a snort. “You should be. India cried for a week after that happened. You’d better lie if anyone asks about who it was.”

“I know,” I say. “I will, obviously. I’m just—” But I break off, because I don’t know how to explain.

“Just…?” Poppy prompts, and there’s something in her voice I don’t like.

“I don’t know,” I say defensively.

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