May wondered if Sadie had her fingers crossed behind her back. In May’s experience, The Boss never got excited about anything. She nodded to Bo, and turned to go back down the stairs.
She heard Sadie’s feet tapping after her. “May! You’re with us.” Her voice cracked. She stepped closer to her, to whisper, “You have to keep him in check. I’ll be having a hard enough time with The Boss. He’s a bear today.”
“So is that one. What’s in the water?”
“I don’t know, but I have the feeling there’s going to be a lot of translation needed.”
“But I suck at that.” Please don’t make me make a fool of myself in front of my new lover, May tried to say with her eyes.
Sadie did not appear to be listening. Beau cleared his throat. “Ladies?”
“This way.” Sadie strode firmly ahead and down the far side of the balcony, Beau close behind, May nearly skipping to catch up. Two times in front of The Boss in one week couldn’t be good. Three, if you counted tomorrow night’s party.
Well, she might just impress him, right? And she was a consummate professional. Professional publicity-shy artist, not professional public-relations maven.
Markus Edmondsson must have heard them coming, for he was standing at the door to his glass-walled office when they arrived. The introductions went well, and it looked like Edmondsson won the handshake-grip power contest, but not by much. So far, so good.
Edmondsson waved them over to a pair of comfortable chairs. Sadie went to the far wall to grab a rolling chair, and signaled May to do the same. Sadie rolled her seat to Edmondsson’s right, so May rolled hers to Beau’s right, a neat square.
Beau looked like the chair wasn’t very comfortable. He won the first-to-speak pissing contest, probably trying to make up for the handshake.
“So, the expedition. What is the timetable?”
Edmondsson launched into what sounded like a canned lecture on the history of expeditions to the Antarctic and penguin habitats there. Beau nodded along, and May’s attention wandered. He must be wearing underwear now. Would they be boxers or briefs? He seemed the boxer type.
Edmondsson wound down, and Beau nodded. “Yes, I see. So, what is the timetable of the expedition?”
Edmondsson frowned, as if he’d already answered the question and was surprised to be asked again. This time, he launched into a description of how they intended to study the habitat, to ensure preservation without undue human influence.
Beau interrupted. “Right, but what about video? What about charts and graphs?”
Edmondsson’s mouth went straight-line. Sadie jumped into action.
“Of course, Mr. Kurck. We’ll have the complement of videographers and cartographers. The best in the business.”
“Your employees, of course.”
“No. The best in the business,” Edmondsson said. “As she said.”
Beau looked at May. He was going to make her say something. She tried to make all her limbs leaden, so she could sink through the floor. No go.
“Miss Reed here had quite a few ideas for short films.”
“Films.” Edmondsson’s voice dripped apathy.
Man up, girl. May took a breath, and spilled the words out. “Right. For both fund-raising and for tracking progress on the trip. We could do a series of two- or three-minute videos, on our own channel, and ask people to video themselves asking the scientists questions. If we had the satellite we might even have a live videocast from the site, or inside the shelter, more like.”
No one said anything. Sadie’s face, anxious, watched Edmondsson. Beau was watching May, that little smile playing along his lower lip. Edmondsson, who had been looking to the window, turned to look right at her.
“Coffee, black. You must know Kurck’s by now.”
May blinked, momentarily confused. Then she understood. She managed to drop her gaze to the carpet before the anger flashed through them. Then the hot shame followed, and she stood. She had to get out of here. But then she’d need to come back, with hot fucking coffee, lightly sugared. He’d only said black to impress the other man in the room.
Who stood. “I’ll help.”
Sadie jumped out of her seat. “No, no, I’ll go.” But Beau was already at the door, right at May’s heels.
She scurried down the stairs, but as she was about to turn right, to go to the coffee room, he grabbed her hand and pulled her left. They rushed to her cubicle, where he picked up her purse.
“You leave this out here, for thieves?” he had time to say even as they were force-marching to the door. Were they leaving?
They were going to leave. “No. What are you doing?”