The blood drains to my feet. “Taylor’s my boss?” I rasp. “Is this some sort of sick office prank for my first day back? You’re all in on it, aren’t you? You, Spider, the girls, even Wolfe?”
He bursts out laughing. “Sorry, Luce, but this is comedy gold. Your face! But yeah, Taylor’s running the show.”
I’m too traumatized to speak.
Anybody else but her. I’d prefer to answer to Satan himself.
“Come on.” He nudges me up out of my seat. “Didn’t you figure it out from the emails?”
“No,” I hiss. “Taylor’s always been a bossy pain in the neck. I just thought she was being… well, her.”
Is this the memory my brain has been shielding me from? It all makes sense now.
“Has the last year been a living hell?” I whimper.
“Pretty much,” he deadpans.
I wait for the punchline, but it never comes.
He shrugs. “I thought Andy was tough with his Turkish buffet ban. Now he’s hands-off, and Taylor’s in charge, she barely lets me take a whiz.”
“Did we ever think about quitting?”
“Come on, you know we’re both too set in our ways to do that.”
We edge into the cramped boardroom.
I’m relieved all the seats are taken so I can hide at the back, propping up against the wall with Matty in front of me. Boardrooms make me claustrophobic, and I turn into a gibbering wreck when I have to speak.
With thirty of us packed like sardines, I attract a few curious stares. Some crane their necks to gawk at the woman with no memories.
If this were a comic, I’d be Captain Confusion.
Taylor struts to the head of the table, smoothing out her suit jacket.
“Lucy.” She smiles at me, her voice dripping with a sweetness that sets my teeth on edge. “We really can’t express how wonderful it is to have you back. Feeling better, I hope?”
“Like a million bucks,” I mutter, forcing a tight smile.
“That’s just great.” Her hands clasp over her chest like she’s auditioning for a soap opera. “On behalf of management, rest assured, we’re here to hold your hand through your recovery journey.”
“So you’re the boss now.” The words escape my lips as a whimper. This must be some sort of twisted nightmare. Any minute now, I’ll wake up in a hospital bed.
She grins momentarily before reining herself in. No doubt, she’s reveling in the horror flashing across my face. “Oh dear, youhaveforgotten a few things. Yes, I’m leading the project.”
Just like Taylor can’t hide her delight, I can’t hide my dismay. I try for nonchalance but end up pulling off an awkward grimace-smile.
Of all the rotten luck, having Taylor as the boss ranks alongside memory loss. Possibly worse.
I try to focus as she speaks—we’re in the first sprint of Phase Two and I’m excited, but it’s bittersweet because no matter how hard I work or how much I love the project, I’ll still have to answer to Taylor.
I wonder, how long did it take for me to swallow this bitter pill the first time?
Just when I think this meeting can’t get any worse, my neck prickles. Without even turning around, I can feel his presence. That scent.
Taylor breaks off mid-sentence, her eyes darting to the door.
“Don’t mind me,” a smooth, deep voice sounds from behind me, stirring the energy of the room. Everyone instinctively sits up straighter.
