“What the fuck did you take?”
“Xanax, Ambien, NyQuil. Whatever I had in my desk.”
I glance around again and lean in close, like I’m checking his vital signs.
“Mark Winterson. Listen to me very carefully. You see those people filming?” I pretend to take his pulse and turn his head so he can see. “You’re going to drop the lawsuit.Or I will not restuntil the main thing you’re remembered for—the main thing for which you’reknown—is being the giant weenie who sued the girl who saved his life.”
He starts laughing and coughs up some more water.
“You kill me, Ruby,” he croaks out.
“Quite the opposite just now, actually.”
“Fine! Fine. Just one thing.” He’s lying there, half drowned and washed out to dry, looking like hell, but somehow he musters a grin. “Come on, be honest. I’m at least an eight out of ten.”
Wow, how did that get back to him? I guess Morgan really is a gossip.
“Goodbye, Mark,” I say, and head back to work.
Chapter
57
Everything at the office is so up in the air, but one thing is certain: There’s no way we’re getting any more work done today. Apparently, even Erica recognizes it. She walks out of her office and claps in her signature energetic fashion. “All right, everybody stop gossiping in your DMs and get out of here,” she says. “Take the afternoon, let’s regroup tomorrow.”
So I pack up my things, and Sarah flags me down on my way to the elevator. “Come with us to the bar! You look like you could use a drink.”
A bunch of union people are waiting for us outside—including most of the accountants, but no Greg—and we walk in a big cluster through the corporate campus. The lawn is such an idyllic Technicolor green after the recent rains, and the sun feels so good on my skin. Along the street, the jacaranda blooms sway in the breeze, unreal purple against the blue sky. Some municipal workers are putting a covering over the pool; a sign on the fence saysTemporarily Closed.
I feel giddy, being outside and wandering at this hour. Andwalking in a slow-moving group like this, everyone chatting, it does feel like we’re on some kind of field trip.
“Can’t believe you saved that guy’s life,” Sarah says as she and Grace come up alongside me, holding hands.
“You would’ve let him drown?”
She must not have expected that question, because she lets out a big honking laugh.
“Yeah, I don’t know,” I add. “Lifeguard training dies hard, I guess.”
“I respect it,” Grace says.
Steve is walking in front of us, and Al passes us to catch up with him, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “Steve, my man, I believe you lost our bet.”
Steve grudgingly retrieves his wallet and hands him a few twenties.
“Thanks, bestie,” Al says with a grin, plucking the cash out of his hand, and Sarah and I both crack up as Al picks up the pace to join Morgan and Carol.
“What was the bet?”
Grace shakes her head. “Steve didn’t think you could pull it off.”
“Neither did I, to be honest,” I say, laughing. But the knowledge that Aldidsits warm in my gut for the rest of the walk.
We get to the bar and one of the accountants holds the door open for me while another gives me a fist bump.
“What are you having?” Sarah asks, nodding toward the bar. “I’ve got this, you earned it.”
Then Greg runs in behind us and shouts, “Check your email!”
