Page 81 of Reverie

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“Let’s hope so,” Brey whispered as she stopped at my desk. Steven glared over his computer at us like we might get him in trouble.

“We’re talking about the meeting later, Steven.”

“Oh. That’s great. It’s just, we’re right in front of Jett’s office. I don’t want him to think we’re just …” He shrugged like his thought was obvious.

I dropped my eyes to make sure I didn’t roll them dramatically. Gloria pivoted to face his desk. “You think my boss would ever believe I’m …” She shrugged as if to shake off Steven’s ridiculous comment and turned her red lips down. “Please. Go back to work.”

Both Brey and I stared at each other with eyes wide as an owl’s in complete shock. Steven opened and closed his mouth like a guppy before turning back to his computer.

Gloria continued as if we were discussing the weather. “I’ll go set up the conference area for later. Do not be afraid. Jett smells fear. Brey, you know exactly what I’m talking about.”

She walked off before I could respond. “I’m more than a little frightened now.”

“At least she’s on our side,” Brey reassured me.

“The deal is ours to lose.”

“And you’ve never lost a thing, Vick,” Brey said, each word pronounced like she had everlasting belief in me.

If only she knew.

My friends would never know though. I wasn’t there to present my sob story to them, and I’d never willingly share that I had beat my first round of cancer.

Because that’s all it was. The first round.

I didn’t need them looking at me differently, like I was a poor little thing who’d barely survived. I didn’t need them worrying that I’d somehow get cancer again either. I didn’t want to be stuck in the padded room my friends would definitely build for me if they knew.

Living with the secret of having had cancer was lonely. It was lonely when you had it, and it was lonely if you survived it. I worried about it coming back more than enough for everyone; I didn’t want them worrying too. Sure, it would be lonely if I had to go through it again, maybe not surviving this time. Dying slowly.

Yes, I hadn’t lost a thing by keeping it to myself. Not yet.

But I worried every single day that I would.

23

Jett

She wore red.Not a dark red either. It was a blood-smeared-on-the-walls red, a fighting red, a bold, bright mockery of my recommendation to tone down the color.

Fine.

She wanted war. This was a battle to her. It was just business to me. I straightened my tie and tugged down my shirt cuffs.

Our conference room overlooked the lake, providing a calming atmosphere before the storm of each meeting. A large crystal chandelier hung above, and the brown wood mixed with glass and touches of gold on the seating gave the room a lavish look.

I witnessed Gloria align with Brey and Vick as they each presented points on Levvetor to the top people on my team. Every single person listened like lives depended on it.

And they absolutely did depend on it, but we couldn’t save everyone.

After they wrapped up the presentation, Vick stepped forward with some colorful Post-it notes because she couldn’t possibly have used plain old white ones.

“I’m hoping you can each write down a question or concern you may have in regard to backing Levvetor on the pink Post-it. On the blue, let us know a reason you think it may be a good idea. Then, let’s go through them.”

Brey passed around the pads along with pens. Gloria told the team they could work together if they wanted to. That opened up conversation.

I didn’t normally take this approach in meetings. We discussed it as adults; we didn’t write it down. Yet, here I was following their orders because Brey pointedly put the pads in front of me before she sat down at my side.

On the pink Post-it, I wrote:


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