“What do you mean? She’s...southern.” She said the word with disdain. I could see in her eyes that at least five generations of Eastern audacity had blinded her to how tacky she sounded.

I looked up. “Yes, well…they’re polite. That doesn’t mean you can’t make an enemy out of them.”

“Oh,” Sasha said, looking back to the door nervously. “I…er…Grant wanted me to ask you about the Christmas party.”

I raised an eyebrow. “I have faxes coming out of my ears, and you’re shoving your way into my office to talk about finger foods? Don’t waste my time.”

“No, no….” she fidgeted. “I wanted your permission to chair it this year. I was hoping we could make it into more of a ball.”

“A ball,” I deadpanned.

Sasha smiled widely. “Yes.”

I waved her away. “Check with Jessica on the second floor about the budget. Stay within parameters, and personally, Sasha, I couldn’t care less.”

Sasha’s strained smile barely lasted until she reached the hall.

The rest of the day passed without event, or maybe it was because no one dared to approach with me with anything less urgent than my office being on fire. The consequential spunk the insufficient sleep had graced me with was working. I hadn’t enjoyed Titan that much since I moved into Jack’s office.

By the time five o'clock rolled around, I trudged to the elevator and welcomed Jared’s arm when he offered it. The sluggish, heavy feeling over my body was familiar. I was reverting back to my former zombie days.

“No, you’re getting sleep tonight. Bex will be there at seven.”

I wondered if I’d said anything aloud, but didn’t have enough energy to ask. Just sitting in the passenger seat, watching trees and pedestrians move past my window was exhausting. If I was coherent, I would feel ridiculous for the permanent shocked expression on my face as I tried to keep both upper lids away from the lowers by pushing my eyebrows as high as they would go—but I wasn’t.

Jared wrapped his arm around my waist, leading me into the house. When the old, heavy door closed behind us, Jared stopped.

“Nina,” Cynthia called, appearing from the hallway. “You have a guest waiting for you in the Great Room.”

I puffed.

“Let me take your things, Love,” Agatha said, pulling my make-shift brief case from my hand.

“Thank you,” I mumbled. I walked down the main hall, into the Great Room, blinking to focus once I recognized that it was Kim sitting alone on our large, green sofa. She sat on the edge of her seat; her hands balled tightly together atop her knees. I sat across from her in my mother’s favorite Italian occasional chair.

It was then that I noticed Jared hadn’t joined us, but had gone upstairs to prepare for a night away, instead.