“It’s not because of that,” I say quietly. “This was our agreement from the beginning, Monica.”

“But it’s not in the contract.”

“Excuse me?”

“It’s not in the contract,” she repeats. “I said maybe I’d leave, but I didn’t sign anything saying I would definitely leave.”

Now it’s my turn to stare. “But we agreed…”

She shrugs. “Yes, but I changed my mind. I like it here. I want to stay.”

I feel like she just punched me in the gut. I don’t even know what to say. This was our agreement and she’s backing out. It raises the question, what else will she back out of?

“Monica.” I’m trying to keep my voice even. “If you keep working here, I could get in a lot of trouble for our arrangement. It could look like I… that I pressured you into it.”

“Well, maybe you should have thought of that beforehand.” She sticks up her chin. “I don’t want to give up my job, Abby. I shouldn’t have to.”

I want to leap across the desk and shake her, but that would be a bad idea for so many reasons. I have to stay on Monica’s good side. There is so much riding on her.

“If this is really what you want,” I say quietly, “we’ll figure out a way to work it out. We can go to HR and explain the situation. As long as you back me up that I didn’t coerce you into anything.”

I watch Monica’s face. I’m terrified she’s going to refuse to go along with it, but then her lips curl into a smile. “Sure, Abby. Of course.”

Thank God. This is still going to be a total disaster, but maybe there’s a way to mitigate the damage.

_____

I don’t know why I’m so bad at getting envelopes open. Considering how much snail mail I get every day, you’d think I’d have acquired reasonable skill at this. But it feels like every envelope I open results in a twenty-five percent chance of a serious paper cut.

Where the hell is that letter opener Sam got me?

The top drawer where I usually keep it only has papers in it. I rifle around, trying to find it. Wow, my desk is getting to be a mess. I always used to be so organized, but somehow, the top of my desk has become a hurricane of papers. I don’t know how I let that happen. I’ve got so much on my mind…