I stand there for way too long. Long enough that Weston has to clear his throat a few times before I register the sound and turn to look at him.
“You okay?” he asks. “You look like you just saw a ghost.”
“I’m groovy,” I say, a word I’ve never used before in my entire natural life.
I walk back to my desk on autopilot and sit down. The zoning filing is still open on my screen. I scroll down a line and then back up. I highlight a sentence and unhighlight it. Meanwhile, through the glass wall of the corner office, I can see Kir and Thornton sitting across from each other. Kir’s ankle is resting on his knee. He’s gesturing with one hand while Thornton nods along, and every few seconds, they both laugh about something.
My pulse won’t come down. I keep replaying the handshake and the total bl
