I had to admit, just knowing he was here, waiting for me, had somehow helped me. And when I was with him, his mere presence calmed me. But he wasn’t here now, and he couldn’t stay with me all the time. I was a grown woman, and I could handle this on my own. I was anxious, but it was normal. Everything, I told myself, was fine.
Until the middle of the meeting when I was asked a simple question, and I reached for the file to get the answer and realized I had picked up the wrong folder. Panic, hot and terrifying, wrapped around my chest, squeezing. My legs began shaking, my hand gripping the file so tight, the edge cut into my skin, blood welling around the cut.
My brain knew I had the other file—somewhere right here on my desk—it knew I’d done the work and that the answer was only a few inches away. In fact, I knew the answer, but my brain couldn’t seem to communicate that to the rest of my body and I was struck dumb.
The only thing that saved me was the fact that Lynn saw the blood, jumped up, pushing a Kleenex into my hand, and rattled off the number since she knew the file almost as well as I did. Her movement jolted me, and I sucked in some much-needed air and lifted my water to my lips, drinking deeply, buying myself a moment to calm, knowing how close I was to losing it in front of these people.
My boss, Carl, was in a rare mood, disagreeing with some of my suggestions. He wanted a second draft with his ideas added to the plan.
“Make those changes, and we’ll go through it on Monday morning. Then we can present to management.”
It happened on occasion, but his changes meant some more long hours at my desk. I had the feeling he wouldn’t like the result but knew not to argue with him. I noted his thoughts and nodded. “I’ll get it done,” I said, noticing how hard my hand trembled. I set down the pen and slid my hands onto my lap under the desk, fisting them tightly.
Neither he nor anyone else seemed to notice anything amiss, and after they all filed out of the room, I laid my head down on my desk, almost panting in relief.
A bottle of water appeared in front of me, and I swallowed it in grateful gulps.
“I think you need a break,” Lynn stated quietly.
“Once this is done.”
“Dani, I’ve worked for you since you came to the company four years ago. You’ve never taken a break. You work all the time.” She paused, crossing her arms, tapping her fingers in agitation. “Do you know how much vacation time you’ve accrued? I won’t even mention your unused sick time and paid holidays.”
“I’m going to take some time off.”
“Good. I don’t know what you did on the weekend, but you were like the old Dani on Monday—even Tuesday, you were fine. But since then…”
“What?”
“I don’t know how to describe it. You look…unwell. Did you break up with Noah?”
“What? No,” I insisted. “He lives out of town, so I can only see him on occasion.”
“Hmm.”
“What does ‘hmm’ mean?” I snapped.
“You seemed better when he was around. Maybe he had something to do with it.”
I held up my hand. I wasn’t going to share my personal life with her. “Enough. I’m fine.”
She regarded me for a moment. “Will you make it until next week?”
I pushed back my hair, feeling annoyed. I was used to handling things on my own. It was bad enough Noah fussed over me because of this embarrassing glitch. I didn’t need my assistant doing the same thing. I simply needed to toughen up. “I’m fine, Lynn. I didn’t sleep much last night. I never do before one of these meetings. I’ll catch up tonight and be back to normal on Monday.”
“I’m worried—”
I interrupted her. “I said I’m fine. Drop it.”
“Fine. But I’m watching you,” she huffed and left my office, shutting the door with more force than necessary.
I paced around my office, feeling upset and embarrassed. My stomach twisted, and I had to concentrate on my breathing as I felt my pulse begin to race. I hurried to the bathroom, splashing cold water on my face and running it over my wrists as I inhaled long, deep breaths. I examined my face in the mirror, noting the circles under my eyes and the paleness of my skin. I looked older than my years and weary. I shook my head.
I should be able to handle this. I’d handled stress and pressure my whole career. I’d been on my own since I was eighteen and could look after myself, so why were things suddenly so different? Why was this happening?
My phone rang, and I slipped it out of my pocket.