It was just as clear and real as the Japan and Russia dreams—I could feel the thrum of the city, the people, smell the green scent of the river, apricot and peach trees, almonds and figs… What Casziel had told me in the pub about his past came rushing back to me.
“Was that…Larsa?” I asked my empty room.
And the woman?
Cas had said his existence might infiltrate my subconscious through our bond. Something about that hadn’t sat right with me then and it didn’t sit right that morning either. But he wasn’t around to ask, and a glance at the clock said I needed to get ready for work.
I showered and dressed in my usual work “uniform”—a skirt, shapeless sweater, and a little mascara. I made coffee and drank it slowly with a slice of cantaloupe and a bagel with cream cheese—and still no Casziel.
“The Weekend of Weird might be officially over,” I muttered, ignoring the pang in my heart.
Silly Lucy is now safely tucked back into her silly little life, sneered a voice. Deber or Keeb. Or more likely just my own rampant insecurities.
I waited as long as I could, but I was going to be late and Casziel obviously wasn’t going to show. I grabbed my bag and headed out.
The E train was on time and I got off at Lexington and 53rd, Midtown, and rode up the elevator to the ninth floor of The Conway building. Ocean Alliance, under Executive Director Kimberly Paul’s leadership, had flourished in its three years and now we had the entire floor to ourselves.
“Hi, Dale,” I said, mustering a smile for our receptionist.
“Morning, Luce.” He smiled back. “How was your weekend?”
I coughed. “Oh, same ole, same ole.”
I hurried away and dove behind the partition in my cubicle. The office was open-concept, with lots of plants and sweeping views of the city. Each of the forty or so employees’ desks were partially walled off and all departments intermingled. Jana Gill—the head of accounting—was next to me, as was Abby Taylor, Chief Marketer, who created all of our commercials and outreach videos.
I was head of logistics, having been promoted three months in. It wasn’t very challenging after my bioengineering degree, but it didn’t require me to talk to anyone. And after my conversations with Casziel, it occurred to me that I took other people’s Big Ideas and researched them to see how they could be made into reality.
That hadn’t bothered me before, but that morning it did. It bothered me a lot.
Both Abby and Jana were already at their desks, their chairs pulled close to chat about their weekends. Jana gave me a warm, friendly smile. She had her blond hair pulled back in a ponytail and dark circles under her eyes—she’d recently had a baby boy.
Abby gave me a scrutinizing once-over. Her dark brown hair was fresh from a blowout, makeup immaculate, and her clothing up-to-the-minute stylish. She reminded me of the models from the opening montage of The Devil Wears Prada while I was Anne Hathaway in her shapeless cerulean sweater with bagel crumbs spilled down the front.
“Heya, Luce,” Jana said. “You lo
ok pretty today.”
“Oh, um…thanks,” I mumbled, taking my seat and stowing my bag under the desk. “How’s Wyatt?”
“He’s lucky he’s so cute,” Jana said, smiling tiredly. “I don’t remember what sleep is.”
“What about you, Luce?” Abby asked. Somehow her “Luce” sounded condescending while Jana’s was endearing. “You look a little tired yourself. Long night? Anyone we know?”
I blushed and busied myself organizing my already organized, immaculate desk. “No, no. I had trouble sleeping last night.”
“Of course, you did, honey. I’m just teasing, obviously.”
Because it’s impossible that I might’ve spent the night with someone.
A current of sandalwood cologne wafted over us. “Morning, ladies,” said a deep voice.
My cheeks immediately went up in flames, like an autonomic reaction. Guy Baker had his arm slung over the top of Abby’s partition, a confident, easy smile on his tanned face. The executive VP wore jeans, a plaid button-down shirt rolled up at the sleeves, and Timberland hiking boots. His sandy-blond hair was a little rumpled, as if he’d spent a long night with a woman’s hands running through it.
“Hello, Guy,” Abby said, her knowing gaze sliding between him and me in a way I didn’t like. “You’re looking dashing this morning. What can we do for you?”
“Kim wants every department head in the conference room in ten.” He grinned. “Our fearless leader is all work, no play. As usual.”
“That woman will work through her honeymoon if we let her,” Jana said fondly.