Authors: Sandi Perry
"Mom,
sorry
I
missed
your
calls
earlier—I
was
in
the
subway.
Sure,
I
can
meet
you
around
two;
let's
say
at
My Most Favorite Dessert Cafe
?
Great.
Wow,
this
is
the
second
time
you've
coming
into
the
city
this
week.
Can't
wait
to
hear
all
about
it.
Okay,
see
you
then."
She
hurried
across
the
street
before
the
light
changed
and
walked
through
the
revolving
doors,
balancing
her
coffee
cup
precariously
while
elbowing
the
doors
to
keep
them
moving
along.
Revolving
doors
were
supposed
to
make
things
easier.
Actually,
taking
coffee
from
the
office
machine
would
have
been
easier,
but
they
had
a
menu
of
flavored
coffees
and
firmly
believed
coffee
should
taste
like
coffee,
not
like
a
liquid
cinnamon
bun.
After
gathering
her
messages
from
Natalya,
she
made
her
way
down
the
hall
to
her
office,
soon
to
be
her
former
office—she
was
counting
the
days.
She
looked
forward
to
the
day
when
she
didn't
have
to
take
into
account
Natalya's
mood.
She
came
to
the
elementary
conclusion
that
when
Natalya
wore
black
her
heart
was
black
as
well.
No
minor
misstep
escaped
her
eagle
eye.
If
her
clothing
were
pastel,
it
meant
she'd
had
a
good
round
of
sex
the
night
before
with
her
husband
and
she
would
be
mellow.
Give
me
crazy,
vase-throwing
artistic
divas
any
day,
she
thought.
At
least
their
idiosyncrasies
come
from
a
creative
outlet.
Allison
sat
at
her
computer
and
worked
steadily
for
an
hour.
A
sharp
knock
brought
her
head
up;
she
was
dismayed
to
see
Alex
at
her
door.
"Yes?"
she
asked.
He
walked
in
and
sat
down,
"I've
been
thinking
about
our
conversation
last
week,
and
I
think
I
might
have
been
a
little
harsh,"
he
said.
"Really?"
she
said.
"And
I
meant
to
call
and
thank
you.
It
made
me
realize
that
I've
been
tolerating
a
lot
of
static
in
my
life.
In
the
past,
I
never
tolerated
unproductive,
irritating
people,
but
somehow
over
the
last
few
months,
I
lost
my
footing."
She
got
up
from
her
seat
and
came
around
to
perch
on
her
desk.
"So,
I
apologize.
It
won't
happen
again.
I'm
working
on
my
statement
to
the
board,
outlining
the
future
of
this
company.
The
board
will
convene
shortly
after
and
a
CEO
will
be
named.
So,
I
need
no
longer
be
a
concern
of
yours
and
frankly,
you
are
of
no
concern
to
me
any
longer—you've
been
flushed."
"I've
been
what?"
"You
heard
me,
flushed,"
she
made
a
twirling
motion
with
her
hand.
"You
can
leave
now."
"I'm
not
leaving.
I
have
no
idea
what
you're
talking
about.
"I
hear
noise,
oh
that
must
be
the
static
I
thought
I
was
eliminating
from
my
life.
But
lo
and
behold,"
she
looked
pointedly
at
him,
"it's
still
here."
"You're
not
making
any
sense."
"You
see,
Alex,
that's
the
exact
problem;
I
make
sense
to
everyone
but
you.
I'll
say
it
again,
you
can
leave
now."
He
sat
still
and
watched
while
she
sat
down
again
and
entered
her
report
on
the
computer.
"Can
we
please
go
somewhere
to
talk
about
this
like
two
adults?
Maybe
for
drinks
after
work?'
"Ha,
as
if."
He
grimaced,
"Pretty
please,
with
a
cherry
on
top?"
"I
have
a
big
birthday
bash
tonight.
Don't
you
know
that
Michael
Essex
is
throwing
a
BIG
party?
Oh,
that's
right,
of
course
you
don't
know,
because
you
don't
exist.
You
are
no
longer
relevant—sort
of
like
vinyl
records
and
boom
boxes."
He
sighed
loudly,
"You're
sounding
foolish,
making
up
excuses
like
phantom
parties—like
you
even
know
Michael
Essex."
She
looked
at
him
for
a
second
and
hit
speaker
on
her
phone.
She
dialed
a
number
and
said,
"Michael
Essex,
please,
it's
Allison
Ross."
A
moment
later
Michael's
clipped,
precise
tones
came
on
the
line,
"Allison,
my
darling,
don't
tell
me
you're
calling
to
cancel
on
me
this
evening?"
"No,
no,
of
course
not,
Michael.
I
was
just
wondering
if
you
needed
any
help
with
the
last
minute
details."