The moment the heavy mahogany doors of the lounge closed behind her, Maeve’s composed, "business-sacrifice" mask shattered. She didn't walk; she practically floated down the hallway toward her office, her mind spinning with the reality of what had just happened. She grabbed her bag and her phone, her fingers trembling so much she almost dropped it twice.
"Penial! Pick up, pick up, pick up!" Maeve hissed into the receiver as she hurried toward the elevator.
"Maeve? What’s wrong? Did you get fired?" Penial’s voice was laced with immediate concern.
"No," Maeve breathed, stepping into the elevator and hitting the button for the lobby. "I’m getting married."
The silence on the other end of the line was deafening. "Excuse me? Did the vodka from last night finally reach your brain? Married to
