Page 69 of Puck to the Heart
Polly’s door closed with an audible thunk, and my body went loose. “Oh mygod. Your grandmother caught us banging on the couch.”
“Technically, we were finished banging.”
I eased to a sitting position, keeping the blanket firmly wrapped around my waist as Ash fixed his pants. “Close enough.”
“Barnes, I think we’re going to have to count this one as a win.”
On a normal day,seeing Brad’s oversized truck in the parking lot before I arrived would’ve been a red flag. But I chalked it up to him forgetting Daylight Saving Time. Or something. Inside the building, I should’ve paid more attention to the way the security guard eyed me as I passed. But the pleasant soreness throughout my body had my mind on other things. Ash. I planned to call Kit, my grad advisor, to hash out the burgeoning idea for my outreach project and how I would pitch it to Hurst.
It was a good day.
Well, it was anokayday. Nailing down a meeting time with Dr. Hurst went poorly, and some of my data came in a little weird, but fixable. I needed to make the most of my fresh energy to see this through.
Even the rest of the day was better than usual, with Brad on, what was for him, his best behavior: no spills, no space-invading. The instruments ran smoothly, and a few email responses trickled in from the contacts Kit sent me. In all, it could’ve been worse.
Right until I logged in to my email to see a new meeting invitation for four-thirty. It was four twenty-six. Shit.
If cursing at Brad as he poked his head in my door would've helped, I would've cussed him up one side and down the other.
“Hi, Livy. How are you?" Drawing the words out made his question suspicious, but there was no time to mull it over.
"Late for a meeting." A few papers skittered off my desk as I shoved my chair back.
"We should hang out. Talk. Drinks tonight?" Brad stared as I leaned down to retrieve the papers. Heaven forbidhehelp.
"Can't tonight. Hockey game."
His body took up the doorway, blocking my exit. "Right."
“Well, this was weird, but I’m late." Making a ‘move along' gesture at him, I waited for him to leave.
When he didn’t, I stepped forward into his space the way he always did to me. “I have a meeting. Right now."
Finally, he moved. Yes, the guy was obtuse, but this was a new level. I didn't have time to ponder it as I speed-walked to Dr. Hurst’s office.
Dr. Hurst’s scratchy voice called to close the door and take a seat. Nearly hidden behind his enormous computer setup, I struggled to see him beyond it.
"Olivia."
"Dr. Hurst." I was too tired for another "smile more" meeting. Seriously. My data was finally trending in the right direction, barring today’s minor blip, and I had at least another hour of analyses left before finishing for the day.
In my pocket, my phone began vibrating, dragging my attention away from the conversation.
"This is never easy to do, but we're going to have to let you go."
* * *
Shock still wrappedburning fingers around my chest as I grabbed my bag off my desk on autopilot. My phone kept buzzing, so I answered in a daze when my feet hit the parking lot.
“Hello?”
Thankfully, Dad didn’t seem to notice the tremor in my voice.
“Livy! Good news!”
Instant relief swelled through me, twisting with the icy panic I hadn’t been able to process in the past five minutes. “What’s going on?” I asked on an exhale.
“They’re letting me out!”
