Daisy glanced at me. “The office first, right? Summer said only if you’re up for it, which in Summer language means she has already prepared three alternate plans and hates two of them.”
“Office first.”
“Excellent. I have a meeting packet, a parking spot near the front, and instructions not to let you carry your own bag.”
“I can carry my own bag.”
“You can,” Daisy said, merging with alarming competence. “I am choosing to create an illusion of workplace care.”
I took a sip of coffee hot enough to remove regret from my bloodstream. “You are getting bold.”
“I learned from the branding team. Boldness is just expensive confidence, right?”
“Never do that.”
She smiled at the road. “Noted.”
Wilder Horizons headquarters sat on Maris Key behind glass, pale stone, and landscaping designed to imply effortless money despite requiring three vendors and a weekly irrigation argument. The lobby smelled exactly as it always did: lemongrass, espresso, printer toner, and expensive people requiring miracles on deadlines.
Phones rang in measured intervals. A client coordinator crossed the polished floor with a tablet tucked against her ribs. Someone laughed near the coffee station. The wall screen behindreception rotated through destination images: Scottish cliffs, Costa Rican jungle, Galápagos water, Rome at dusk.
Nothing looked collapsed.
Deeply inconsiderate.
Daisy scanned us through security, then took my work tote from my shoulder before I could stop her.
“I can take that,” I said.
“I know.”
“That was not permission.”
“No, but it was a complete sentence.” She adjusted the tote strap and kept walking.
I followed her through the glass corridor toward my office. Staff looked up as I passed, smiled, offered quiet greetings, then returned to their work.
No one lunged at me with disaster.
No one whispered,Thank God you’re back, the building has begun eating itself.
My desk sat exactly as I had left it. Blinds half-open. Legal pad square with the edge of the blotter. Inbox sorted into three neat stacks. Coffee mug washed and turned upside down on a folded napkin.
Evidence of care.
Evidence of systems.
I set Ranger Wilder on the corner of my desk, where he immediately lowered the dignity of the room.
“I can move him,” Daisy said.
“No. Let him observe.”
“Excellent. He has strong opinions.”
I looked at my laptop, at the clean desk, at the absence of catastrophe. “How long until our meeting?”
“Eight minutes. Summer has an agenda.”
