“We’re done for today.”
Richard looked at the clock.
“We still need to review the festival plan.”
“Email it.”
“Rachel—”
“She has rehearsal.”
I did not have rehearsal for another two hours.
Richard knew it.
He also knew Rachel well enough not to argue.
We stood.
Sophie gathered her phones and tablet. Richard offered me the remaining pizza as if carbohydrates might repair the conversation.
I declined.
Rachel walked me to the elevator.
Neither of us spoke until the doors closed.
Then she pressed the button for the lobby and said, “You can say no.”
I watched the numbers above the door.
“Can I?”
“Yes.”
“What happens?”
“They reconsider the campaign.”
“Meaning?”
“They worry.”
“Labels worry professionally. It’s one of their core services.”
Rachel turned toward me.
“Annie.”
She only used that name when there were no other people around.
It made me look at her.
“I mean it,” she said. “You can say no.”
The elevator descended.
Fourteen.
