Gertie settles gingerly into a chair in front of my desk and rests her cane against my desk. “Good days and bad days. I’m on my feet again, and that’s what’s important.”

“Absolutely. You look great.”

She laughs and pats her puff of white hair. “Well, aren’t you sweet?”

“Any chance you might come back?”

This time when she laughs, she throws her whole head back like I made a hilarious joke. Except it wasn’t a joke. “Oh, I don’t think so, Abby. I’m done living in the fast lane. Done rushing to make deadlines and getting pushed down the stairs.”

I start to say something else, but her words stop me. “Pushed down the stairs?”

She waves a hand. “Just a joke. It was an accident, obviously.”

“But…” I grip the edges of my chair, my heart pounding. “You were pushed down the stairs?”

“No, no!” She shakes her head. “There were a lot of people in the stairwell and… well, it felt like a push, but it was obviously an accident. Who would push little old me down the stairs?”

Maybe someone who wanted her job.

I stare at Gertie, my mouth hanging open. I know she thinks it’s all a big joke, but I’m not so sure. She said it felt like someone pushed her down the stairs. And then almost immediately after the accident, Monica appeared to take her place.

It’s got to be a coincidence.

It’s got to.

“Abby, are you okay?” Gertie asks. “You look downright pale! Are you eating enough cookies?”

“Uh, I guess not.”

“Well, take one! I made you a whole plate. For you and that lovely husband of yours.”

Right. Me and my lovely husband.

I reach out and take a cookie from the plate. It tastes like cardboard.

Chapter 24

I’m in the ladies’ room, dabbing extra concealer under my eyes. I’m absolutely exhausted because I haven’t been taking my sleeping pills for the last week. They’re doing the annual drug screens today and I didn’t want there to be any chance that stuff would show up. I’ve got a note from my doctor and all, but I can’t give Denise any ammunition to get rid of me.

I look really tired. Like I’m ten years older than I actually am. Sam came into the bathroom this morning while I was brushing my teeth, and when he kissed me, I couldn’t help but wonder how he could be attracted to me when he’s got a younger, prettier version of me texting him every five minutes. But I’m not going to say that to him. Don’t need to give the guy any ideas.

Shelley walks in on me mid-dab. Her eyes widen. “Abby,” she says. “Are you okay?”

I snap my compact closed. “Yes, I’m fine.”

“You look really tired.”

“Gee, thanks a bunch.”