The Speed of Light: A Novel(16)
I just need my best friend.
She pulls back but holds on to my hand. “I thought you were taking today off?”
I drop my purse onto my desk with a growl. “Stan texted last night to say they had to bump up the tour of the residence hall—scheduling conflicts or something. He promised the president we’d have updated photos to donors soon. I think he also told Admissions we’d promote it on social media.”
“Sounds like he needs to stop making so many promises,” Nikki says.
I nod, rubbing my face as if that’ll slough off the exhaustion. I didn’t get back to my apartment till almost midnight last night, so it’s been a dry-shampoo, wear-whatever-is-clean type of morning. God, I wish I were back in bed.
But New Year’s Eve is a quiet day on campus, which means it’s perfect for getting things done—like posting updated photos of the fancy new residence hall we’re building on campus, the first in twenty years. Social media is part of my job as the communications specialist, along with writing, editing, and media relations. And I do love my job . . . almost as much as I love a stable income and health insurance.
That means my reply to Stan’s text was, of course: You bet, complete with a smiley-face emoji.
Nikki clears her throat. “Look, this is my gentle reminder that I’m waiting for you to talk first, okay?”
That was her vow after our post-appointment phone call, and a wave of gratitude hits me. “Okay,” I say. “Maybe I’ll just get a few things done first.”
She retreats to her desk, and I plop down into my chair, eyeing the papers scattered about my desk from last week’s unfinished projects—preholiday me deciding I could leave it for my postholiday self. God, preholiday me is a jerk on so many levels.
I sigh. Preholiday me had a lot on her mind.
A stack of mail balances precariously atop one pile of papers. I scan the first couple of envelopes—invitation to a local women’s business empowerment conference, holiday postcard from the local blood bank that really misses me—but as I grab one, the pile topples, sending papers fluttering to the floor. I stare at the mess, which seems utterly insurmountable right now, then slowly lean my head down on my desk.
From Nikki’s corner, I hear a snort, then soon her confident stride crossing the room. I peek one eye open as she stoops down, swoops up the pile, and returns it to my desk.
“Sorry,” I mumble. “I think I just need more coffee before I can be fully functioning. At least I don’t need to talk to any—”
“Happy New Year, bitches!”
The shrill greeting cuts me off, and an involuntary shiver rolls through my body. I turn toward the door with what I meant to be a smile but is surely a grimace that would put old Mr. Grinch himself to shame. “Hi, Hayley.”
“God, girl, you look like hell.” Hayley flips her sleekly straightened, expensively highlighted golden-blonde hair off her shoulder and smirks.
“Ease up, it’s not even nine,” Nikki scoffs.
A deep chuckle rings out from behind Hayley, and Raj’s tall frame steps through the doorway. “Hey, guys.” He flops his dark hair out of his eyes. “Have a good holiday?”
Should’ve known he was nearby—the two admissions counselors are inseparable. Nikki and I both want them to date already, but one of them always seems to be with someone else. They’re both great work friends, but when it comes to early mornings, Raj is a lot easier to stomach—one of those laid-back, genuine guys. He’s asked about our Christmases, for crying out loud, and he doesn’t even celebrate it—his family is from India, and he’s told us a lot about their Hindu customs.
I smile. “It was fine.”
Nikki rakes her hand through her edgy platinum bob—her panicking-at-turning-thirty look, completely unnecessary because her big blue eyes and freckles make her look forever young. She looks at me, and my eyes plead with her. Save me from them.
She reads me and nods, a silent bestie exchange. “So, guys.” She leans against the bookshelf that lines the wall by the door. “You won’t believe how hungover my uncle was at church Christmas morning.”
But Hayley’s eyes don’t leave my face—dammit, she’s more perceptive than I give her credit for. “Are you sure Santa didn’t leave you a hangover for Christmas?”
I squeeze my eyes shut, start a count to ten so I don’t lash out. Nikki saves me again. “Nah, she just got back really late last night. Three gallons of coffee on an IV drip and she’ll be just fine.”
Raj laughs and I open my eyes, shooting another grateful glance at Nikki.
Hayley nods, eyes wide. “Ugh, I know exactly what you mean. My stupid cousin brought the stomach flu into our house at Christmas, and we all got sick. Then, right when we were getting better, my mom twisted her ankle, so of course I have to go help her out every night.”
Raj clucks in sympathy, and I ball my fists until my nails dig into my palms, bile rising in my throat. At least you don’t have a devastating neurological disease for the rest of your life.
I bite the words back, dropping my eyes when I feel Nikki’s shrewd gaze on me.
“Anyway, sorry to bother you guys, but Chet asked us to drop off this flash drive for Stan.” Raj peeks back down the hallway. “But his door is closed, so . . . is he out today?”