Among the group of twelve, a third were millennials. She related to them because of her own daughters. The rest were older, in their thirties and forties. And then there was Phil, branding director, who had come on board around the same time Diana had and was nearly Diana’s age. The two had clawed at each other, years ago, over who’d become a senior vice president and lead the creative group. She’d managed to come out on top.

Still full of piss and vinegar over the snub, Phil wasn’t going to be happy about her nixing all those brand-name ideas. But she’d been through that rodeo before. She knew how to cut through his crap.

“How was yours?” he asked from his usual spot at her right elbow. He was busy nursing his usual extra-huge commuter cup of something, probably a necessity due to his commute in from Central Jersey. “Do anything fun?” he questioned in a lilting way that made her wince. He knew she hadn’t.

“Yes. It was fun. Quiet,” she said, not looking at him. Though she’d tried to keep the messy details of her pending divorce out of the office, it had a way of leaking in, anyhow. With all the phone calls Sandy had been taking from her lawyer and Evan, they likely knew something was up. She pointed to her notebook. After decades of running these meetings, she knew the agenda by heart, but she never came in without one. She couldn’t afford to let anything sidetrack her from the work that needed to be done, and side-conversations and tangents always seemed to bloat meetings unnecessarily. “Let’s get start—”

She stopped when she realized she didn’t have the full attention of the room. A few of the millennials on the other side, Sandy included, were speaking in a low voice to one another, grinning. The three stopped talking and looked at Diana. “Sorry,” Sandy mumbled.

“Am I missing something?” Diana asked. Sometimes this was like dealing with a bunch of kids. Anything you’d like to share with the class?

Sandy shook her head, “Marie was just telling us about her amazing vacation.”

Case in point—the vacation tangent, that was the last thing this meeting needed. People always seemed to go on about them—where they were going, where they’d been, et cetera, et cetera. As if being at work was so awful, they’d rather talk of anyplace else.

“Perhaps you can discuss that after the meeting,” she said with a smile.

Sandy nodded, “Yes. Of course. I just wanted to know where she got that banging bracelet.”

Macey, the willowy, messy-bun-wearing blonde from graphic design, always wore black turtlenecks, even in the dead of summer. Now, she was wearing a bright red cuff with gold accents that was quite attractive. Not only that, but she had that just-back-from-vacation glow in her high cheekbones. Diana rarely paid much attention to the graphic designers since they were always squirreled away behind their massive Mac screens, but Macey had once looked sickly—exhausted. Now it was like she was a different person. She had to admit it was infectious.