By Monday I could look straight at Augustus Evans without seeing him. His office was mostly glass, so I'd had practice.
I got to Ever Tower fifteen minutes early with coffee, the board packets, and a smile that gave nothing away. It certainly didn't mention Sunday night, when I'd read about how late a period could be before you should worry.
Stress was a perfectly good explanation, according to the internet. So was pregnancy. I'd closed that tab.
"Morning, Juliette," Jane said, hugging a stack of folders. "You look great. New lipstick?"
"Old lipstick. New resolve not to commit murder at work."
"That bad?"
"Ask me after the quarterly presentation."
Across the floor Augustus came out of his office, already talking into his headset. I knew that look. A director had changed his mind about something expensive. A month ago I'd have brought him coffee and an opinion he hadn't asked for. Now I forwarded the revised agenda and went back to my inbox.
