April’s heart sped up. She felt her hands get a bit sweaty, the same way they did every time she gave a lecture at the Library of Congress. But she always went through with it. Somehow, she never backed down. “Thank you,” April said, leaning down and giving her a quick peck on the cheek.

“Go get ’em,” the grandma whispered, giving a swinging punch in the air.

In some strange way, the outburst was exactly what she needed. She strode confidently past the line of people, whose faces, if April had stopped to look at them, all bore the same curious expression. She wouldn’t dare, would she?

April did dare. She reached the front of the line, where a guy in his forties—gray suit, all business, talking loudly on his cell phone— was putting on a sideshow for everyone.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he said. “Well, you can tell Jack that if he comes in with anything short of three million dollars, then he can forget it!”

“Excuse me.”

“What?! Jack said that?! Well he’s just an idiot, now, isn’t he?”

“Sorry, sir, excuse me.”

“Hang on, I’ve got someone bothering me,” the dealmaker grumbled. “What?” he asked April, hand over the mouthpiece of his cell phone.

“I know this seems a bit unorthodox, but I wondered—”

“Can I see your badge?” the dealmaker asked.

“Badge? I don’t have a badge.”

“Then you can get back in line,” he said, returning to his call.

April began to hear the jeers, which she had managed to block out until the dealmaker ruptured her bubble of confidence.

Get back in line!

The nerve!

We all have to wait, lady!

You better be the president of an airline!

A hundred pairs of bothered eyes bored into April. She could feel herself shrinking, wanting to become invisible. She’d made a huge mistake.

And then there was the tiny little grandma, an ant from April’s vantage point, a speck of a dot, swinging her arm like a prizefighter. Don’t give up now!

April grabbed the arm of the dealmaker.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he said, trying to wrench his arm away.

April wrapped her hand around his tie and pulled his face down to meet hers. “Listen, buddy, I’ve had a really bad night. A really bad night! Worse than you could ever know. So unless you want to tick me off—and let me tell you, you don’t—then let me get in line!”

The dealmaker smiled, delicately slipping his silk tie out of April’s fingers. He placed his palm on her shoulder and pushed her away. “Go back home, Mommy,” he said with a chuckle.

Something in April’s mind snapped. She yanked the cell phone out of his hand and flung it down the hallway, watching it skip like a flat rock across the shiny floor.