“Will she be coming out to see Providence in person? I’d be glad to have her here, so she can see how special it is.” I will make her fall in love with this place if I have to train a string of tortoises to pull her uphill in a sleigh.

Jerry covers the handset and puts this option to Rose. He explains the importance of a site visit, but she cuts him off. Now I hear nothing and my heart is sinking. Rose doesn’t want to see my sparkling lake. She wants this place to remain abstract. Jerry confirms it.

“She prefers to do her review remotely. It’s better to keep her and Teddy separated. Now remember,” Jerry says with humorous mock-sternness, “don’t get dazzled. Anyway, Rose will call you soon.”

He’s not wrong. Rose calls four minutes later and briskly tasks me on running so many reports that the ink in my pen goes scratchy. I’m nervous. Sylvia told me before I left that she specifically didn’t want me messing around with the accounts. I don’t want to come back to another Ruthie disaster, she’d said, and I knew exactly what she meant.

I tell Rose now, “Sylvia checks everything before I send it through to PDC. Everything you have will be right.”

“I want it all again. Now, what Jerry said is really important,” Rose says in her flat, business-like way. “If you are ever made uncomfortable by Teddy, I want you to call me. He’ll move on to greener pastures soon, but in the meantime just stay professional.”

I’ve been really, really unprofessional. The absolute certainty of this makes my chest tight. “Of course. I’ll start work on those reports for you. Could you tell me, though, what is the purpose of a site review? I think you’ve got a lot of this from when PDC acquired Providence.”

“I wasn’t involved in the acquisition and I want to start from the beginning. And before you ask again, I don’t have time to visit. I’m not like my father, traveling coast to coast, wasting time. Everything can be done remotely. I need the login details for the Providence banking accounts, if you can give that to me now.” I think she’s got a pen poised.

“I don’t have that. Only Sylvia does.”

“Only one person has access to the accounts?” Rose finds that strange. “How long has that been the arrangement?”

“Always.” I feel like I’m snitching on Sylvia. I asked her about it early on in my employment, but she told me that she’d tell me when I could be trusted with them.

Rose interrupts my stressing. “I’ll sort out my own access. I also want an understanding of the hiring practices on-site. Take you, for example. Were you thoroughly vetted? Police check, things like that?”

“I’m not sure. It was a long time ago.” There’s a file marked R. Midona in Sylvia’s bottom drawer but I’m scared of it. “I knew Sylvia when I was growing up. There was a vacancy, she talked to me on the phone, and here I am, six years later.” I’m meaning to demonstrate that my hiring was a success.

“Sounds very informal.” Rose does not approve. “I’m going to need to take a look at every policy document you have. Are your systems ISO Quality Accredited? Look, I’ve got another call coming through. My assistant will be in touch with yours.”

“So what did you find out?” Melanie asks as soon as I put the receiver down.

“I found out that we need to tread really carefully.”

I have a meeting reminder pop-up: I am supposed to give Melanie an answer on the Sasaki Method this afternoon. With Rose’s voice still in my ear, the unprofessionalism of this hits me afresh. I click away the reminder and wonder how disappointed Melanie will be when I say no.

“We’re going to be busy these next few weeks. I’m going to be pulling some long hours. I don’t think I’ll have time to even— ” Another reminder pops up. They’re buzzing around me like gnats. This one is about lunch with the Parlonis. “I don’t have time,” I repeat in a hiss.

Melanie knows what I’m doing, and she’s not having it.

“You’ll be doing some long hours, but I will be helping you,” she assures me with her dark eyes intent on mine. “We will get all our work done, and what we do in our own time is our own business. And you’re going to the fancy lunch with Teddy and the Parlonis. Call it a client lunch. Case closed.”

CHAPTER TEN

Teddy arrives fifteen minutes prior to the Fancy Lunch, and he’s wearing the chauffeur outfit that I have seen on many Parloni boys. It’s never looked quite like this, though. “That looks hot on you,” Melanie says like she’s struggling with her tongue. She’s only human. “You look like a stripper-gram.”

He glints the name tag (“Hot Stuff”) at her and I think she’s dazzled by it. “There’s a good reason for that.” He puts his hat and the box containing his tortoise on her desk then looks over at me. “What do you think?”

Someone so gorgeous doesn’t need a compliment from me. “Say goodbye to TJ,” I say to him. Then to Melanie, “Mark from the Reptile Zoo is coming, he knows where my courtyard is. Sign him in and out. No unauthorized— ”

“I know how you feel about the visitors’ book,” Melanie replies with an eye roll. “You should have been a security guard. It’s your true calling.”

This hurts because that’s not backed up by my past, but before the memory takes hold, Teddy says, “Just like that, huh.” He’s touching a finger to TJ with a stark expression.

I realize what the problem is. “Don’t worry, they’ll bring them back.”

There’s an upward flush of color and energy in him, lighting his smile up white and his eyes tortoiseshell brilliant. “I’m glad to hear it,” he says. “So, so glad. Thank you, Ruthie.”

His relief means my relief. How do I feel the emotions and changes in him, and will I ever resist the urge to fix things for him? To get the smile back on his face, like right now? The warning I received from his dad was far too late. I needed to hear it about five minutes before I arrived at the gas station dressed as a grandmother.

Stretching his shoulders like a weight has been lifted, Teddy says, “I’m taking your boss, Sasaki. Let’s go, Midona. Lunchtime.”

“I cannot believe I’m not invited,” Melanie huffs, using a pen to touch the tortoise. “Huff,” she further enunciates to drive the point home. “I am not a valued member of this team. I’m left out.”

“It’s so hard to get a decent sitter at short notice,” Teddy pleads and she reluctantly nods. Poor thing. She really deserves some fun more than me. I have a tin of perfectly serviceable soup that I’ve had a hundred lunches before.

“I’ve just gotten my task list from Rose so I’m probably busy for the rest of the evening. Mel, you can go in my place.” I ignore the sad lurch in my stomach as she beams and claps. “Have fun, you two.”

“Uh-oh, you know what that means,” Teddy says. “Didn’t I warn you? My strict instructions were to carry you out of here, kicking and screaming.”

“No? What?” I roll back in my chair as he rounds my desk with purpose. “No, wait, I’ll come— ”

“Rules are rules,” Teddy says and takes both of my hands in his to pull me to stand. His eyes are sparkling.

I’ve got to heed the warning about being dazzled, but it’s too late. He bends and puts his shoulder into my stomach, there’s an upward push, an arm around my knees and I’m facedown, a long way off the floor, looking down at his butt. I repeat: dazzled.

My foot knocks over a cup of pens. Melanie is screaming with joy.

“No, no,” I beg, but now I’m looking at the carpet, the in-tray on Melanie’s desk, TJ’s astonished blink, the potted plant near the door. “My bag. My jacket.”

I’m hoisted, which feels like a bob and a bounce. Melanie brings both things to Teddy, hooking them onto his free arm. I say into his back, “I’ve got to start work for PDC.”

“When’s it due?” he asks Melanie.

“Her assistant emailed me already. We have time. One long lunch won’t ruin anything. We also had an accounts receivable meeting locked in, but I think we can reschedule that. In fact, I won’t expect her back this afternoon.”

I argue, “I’ll definitely be back.”

Upside-down, she says to me, “I know you’re planning on working all weekend. I’ll come in tomorrow and do a half day with you, so you won’t have to be alone.” Her hand combs through my hair. “Have fun.”

Melanie’s Saturdays are sacred. She sleeps in until two P.M.

“Oh, Mel, you don’t have to.” I’m having difficulty having a work conversation while folded over a man’s shoulder. In an even, normal voice I try to handle this situation. “Very good, Teddy, you’ve made us laugh, now put me down.”

“I don’t hear you laughing.” His arm squeezes my legs.

Melanie says, “Turn her more this way so I get her face in the shot.”

I screech like a pterodactyl. “You’re both dead. Do you hear me? Dead.” I try to grab at the doorframe when we pass it, but no luck. All I can think of is: What would Rose Prescott say if she could see me now?