“Fine.” I stepped into the conference room. “Refresh me.”
“Gladly.” She pushed out the chair beside her, and I slid in, gesturing for Benji to sit as well. “Now, we’ve put a computer in the storage room for inventory use. What you’ll do, when you need towels, is open up this Excel file labeled ‘Linens,’ and then . . .”
Fifteen minutes later—which was about fourteen more than was necessary—she was done. I stifled one last yawn. “Got it. Anything else I need to know right now?”
Margo glanced around her. “No, I don’t think so. Just put all these towels back in the storage room, separated by type, and we should be good to go.”
“Me?” I said. “Why do I have to put them back?”
“Because it’s your fault I had to do this exercise in the first place. If you’d been paying attention this morning, none of this would have been necessary.”
Not for the first time that day, I was sorely tempted to pull her hair or frog-punch her, like when we were kids. Instead, I just reminded myself that, soon enough, I’d be gone from here, with towels—and Margo—no longer my daily cross to bear. Then I picked up a stack of washcloths.
“I can help,” Benji said, grabbing another pile from the table. “Where do they go?”
“Thanks,” I said. “Follow me.”
I was on my second trip to the storeroom when my phone rang. I shifted the tall stack of mats I was carrying to the other hand, then fished it out of my back pocket. “Hello?”
“Hey, Emaline, it’s me.” A pause. “Theo.”
“Hi,” I said, navigating the hallway. “Sorry I haven’t been able to get back to you. Things are sort of—”
“So look, Ivy really feels,” he broke in over me, “that it would be best if you just gave us Clyde’s contact information. She’s concerned that having you as a go-between will, um, complicate things.”
Of course she was. “No,” I said, “what will complicate things is if he won’t talk to you because you’ve deliberately chosen to ignore the parameters he set up.”
I waited for a crack about this word being an SAT basic. Instead, there was just silence. Then, “True. But as a filmmaker and documentarian, her relationship with her subject is crucial. Anything that diffuses or distorts it can endanger the project.”
“Say whatever you want, but I’m not going against his wishes,” I said. “And neither should you.”
There was that muffled noise again, and then suddenly his voice was lower, closer to the receiver. “Look, I’m not trying to hassle you, okay? She’s just angling, it’s what she does. I’m sorry. I’m so grateful to you for everything this morning.”
“Theo.”
“Not the kiss,” he said quickly. “I mean, that was great, too, don’t get me wrong. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. Even though I know we’re, um, not talking about it. Until tomorrow.” Now I was blushing, right there in the hallway. “But introducing me to Clyde, finessing that connection . . . that was amazing. I can’t thank you enough.”
“You don’t have to,” I replied. “Just don’t let her ruin it. Okay?”
“Okay.” He cleared his throat. “So, um . . . I am still going to see you, though, tomorrow, right? In a non-work-related way?”
I looked at Benji, scooting past me in the narrow hallway, toting a bunch of washcloths. He’d already cleared half the table, making twice as many trips as I had. Clearly, all that preteen energy, properly channeled, could be a serious resource.
“Yeah,” I said to Theo. “I’ll be in touch, on both counts, soon. All right?”
“Sounds good,” he replied. “Bye, Emaline.”
I smiled, then hung up, pushing my phone back into my pocket. Then I turned around, to the storeroom, only to find Luke standing there, his eyes level with mine over the towering pile in my arms. I jumped, startled, and the towels collapsed between us in a blur of white.
“Oh my God,” I said, putting a hand to my chest as one last washcloth fluttered past in my side vision. “You scared the crap out of me.”
“Sorry.”
I dropped down to collect the towels and he joined me on the floor, grabbing a few that were closer to him.
“What’s going on here? Some kind of spa day or something?”
“Margo’s got a new system,” I told him. “What are you doing here?”
He ran a hand through his hair. “Well, actually, I was hoping to—”
“Luke!” I heard Benji yelp, and then he was running towards us, footsteps thumping across the carpet. “I didn’t know you were here!”
“Just walked in, bud.” Luke held up his hand for a high five, which Benji delivered with a loud slap. “She’s got you working, huh?”
“Inventory,” Benji explained. “It’s a lot of towels.”
“I can see that.” Luke looked at me, grinning. I almost smiled back at him out of habit, until I remembered what had happened only a matter of hours ago. “Hey, give me a quick sec to talk to Emaline, okay?”
“Sure,” Benji said. “I still have a lot of stuff to move. See ya!”
And with that, he was gone, back into the conference room. Luke looked at me. “Can we—”