“Right.” I go over to the computer to turn it back on. I glance at my watch—five-twenty. Plenty of time to get back for dinner with Monica. “Let me get this printed for you.”

While I’m waiting for the computer to boot up, I slip my phone out of my purse and check my calendar. And there’s the meeting: eight in the morning, just like Denise said. How did I miss that?

It takes several minutes to boot up and load the document Denise wants. I send it to my printer as I feel a vein throbbing in my temple.

“It’s not printing,” Denise observes.

Damn it. Monica’s the one who knows how to troubleshoot the printer. I don’t know what to do now. I try printing again, but nothing happens. I flash Denise an apologetic look, and she simply sighs loudly.

“Could I just email it to you?”

She sighs again. “I suppose that’s fine.”

I look at my watch again—five-thirty. It takes me twenty minutes to get home by taxi if traffic isn’t too bad. I should be okay. Well, unless traffic is killer. But even so, Sam will entertain Monica until I get home.

Denise stands in front of my desk, her phone held up to her face. She taps on the screen, obviously opening up my email. I hold my breath, watching her face.

“Okay?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “This is really what you’re going to present at the meeting tomorrow to Cuddles?”

“Um…” Admittedly, it’s not entirely finished because I hadn’t realized the meeting was first thing tomorrow morning. But I didn’t think it was that bad. With a few finishing touches that I could come in early to do tomorrow morning…

“I thought we were going to emphasize the nutritional value of the baby food,” she says.

“I did.”

“I don’t see it.”

“It’s right here.” I read off the screen: “Cuddles baby food is made with only the healthiest and most wholesome of ingredients.”

“Yes, but that’s the only place.” She frowns at me. “I said emphasize. Mentioning it once is not emphasizing, Abigail.”

“So… I should mention it twice?”

“It should be everywhere!” Her cheeks turn pink. “The apple puree should be made from apples harvested from a pesticide-free orchard! The pea oatmeal should be created from peas picked from a natural pea ranch!”

A pea ranch? What the hell is a pea ranch?

“You need to fix this, Abigail.”

“I’ll fix it first thing tomorrow morning,” I promise. “I’ll come in at the crack of dawn.”

“Unacceptable.” She arches an eyebrow at me. “Tomorrow morning, the clock will be ticking. This needs to be fixed before you leave for the day.”