I adjusted my drooping puff sleeve. “Hero Day.”
Elton gave one of thosebless your heartsmiles. “That’s tomorrow.”
“What?” But as more employees began to filter into the building, I did notice a very distinct pattern: No one was in costume.
Elton laughed and picked up FeeFee’s leash. “Nice dress, though, Elizabeth.”
The panic was instantaneous and nausea-inducing. How had I messed this up? I, Olivia Sutton, did not make stupid mistakes. I was a rule-following, detail-worshipping woman who lived and died by her planner. Yet, thanks to my last project at Flair and my marketing work for my sister’s bookshop opening, I’d gotten negative five hours of sleep in the last two weeks, and it showed.
Smelling my favorite dark roast, I dug in my Union Jack clutch for my wallet. “I have extra clothes upstairs.”
“Of course you do.” Elton took a step closer. “Now spill the news.”
I glanced about, assuring we didn’t have any extra ears nearby. “There’s a job opening in the New York office.”
Elton’s eyes rounded. “I would kill for that, but”—he held up a hand—“you’re due.”
“Yes,” I agreed with a smile. “I am. But don’t let that stop you from applying. You know Morgan will throw her hat in.”
We both shared a moment of mutual disgust at the name of our fellow coworker.
Elton ran a hand over his dog’s curly head. “You have my vote over Ursula the PR Sea Witch any day. Speaking of difficult women, did Celeste put you on chauffeur duty this morning?”
I eyed the line for the coffee kiosk. “You know I don’t mind helping out.”
“I do know,” Elton said. “That’s why I worry about you. Celeste runs you ragged.”
“She’s a busy single mom. She needs help.”
“That woman could afford round-the-clock help. She enjoys watching you do her bidding.”
We’d had this discussion many times before, and like always, I was quick to shut it down. It felt heretical to talk badly about my boss and hero, the woman to whom I owed my career. “If you need help updating your résumé, let me know,” I told Elton. “Is butt-insky spelled with a hyphen or all one word?”
“Olivia,” he said, “I’m worried about you. Are you living your own life…or Celeste’s?”
“I appreciate the concern, but when I get that promotion, all the sacrifice and servitude will be worth it.”
“When’s the last time you did something fun?”
“Last week I watched a five-part LinkedIn Learning course on trend predictions.”
“I meant the kind that doesn’t involve a laptop, billable hours, or praying three times a day to Celeste, the goddess of expensive shoes and cheap overtime.”
Good heavens, this dress itched. Had Queen Elizabeth endured these problems? “As a matter of fact, I’m hopping on a plane with my sisters this Friday night.”Ha! Take that, Elton.I felt some small measure of satisfaction at my friend’s shocked face.
“Tell me it’s not a work conference,” he said.
“It’s not.” Though Celeste did want me to stop by and connect with a resort owner to pitch one of her marketing ideas. “My sister Hattie got engaged a few weeks ago, and to celebrate and check out a possible venue, she and Miller are taking their wedding party to Las Vegas.”
“Would you like me to describe ‘fun’ so you can hunt for it while you’re there?”
“No, I would not. And excuse me for not being in constant search of merriment and tomfoolery.”
Elton’s phone buzzed, and he checked the screen. “Ugh, I’ve been summoned. Celeste needs help with her PowerPoint again.” He dipped into a curtsy. “See you upstairs, Your Majesty.”
With little time to spare, I hopped in line for another coffee as I finished a text to a client.
One minute later, I sensed my coworker Morgan had stepped behind me. Perhaps the brimstone smell tipped me off.
