You need all eyes on you, and you pause for full effect, always so theatrical. Eventually, my little drama queen, you speak. “It’s just so hard to say out loud— I mean, it’s like if I do…then I have to admit it’s true.”
“What?” Anne or Annie or ‘whatever her name is’ gasps. You get mad when I call her the wrong thing, but she’s irrelevant, Kate, and that’s why she tries so hard. She reaches out and grips your wrist to show how concerned she’s pretending to be, when all she really wants is dirt she can use against you. You inhale, and you glance briefly at the floor. You excel at deceit. “Monique quit this morning.”
“No!” The women all say at once, and I could have predicted as much. You fold your lips expertly and you wait. “I’m afraid so,” you confirm after several nail-biting seconds.
