MAISIE
Lena keeps her arm around me for another minute, letting me just breathe. Then she gives my shoulders a final squeeze and pulls back, her eyes searching mine.
"Okay," she declares, her voice forcibly bright. "Enough of this. We are officially done with this work day. We are going home. We are drawing a bath so hot it could boil a lobster, we are cracking open that bottle of Veuve Clicquot that's been judging us from the fridge, and we are ordering the greasiest, most disgustingly delicious pizza known to mankind. And we are not thinking about the immaculate ice prince, his bullshit PowerPoints, or his stupid, handsome, emotionally-stunted face. We are just going to drink and eat until we can't feel our faces. Deal?"
I let out a wet, shaky laugh, wiping the last of the tears from
