Henrietta lay motionless and Derian rubbed
her hand between both of hers. Absolutely certain Henrietta was cataloging
every word and action, even if she didn’t show it, Derian reported in the
no-nonsense, get-to-the-point way HW had drilled into her when she was young.
“So the doctors think the best way to get
your heart tuned up and running optimally is to take you into the chop shop for
an overhaul. Something about redirecting the fuel lines. The mechanic—a guy by
the name of Armstrong—sounds like he knows what he’s doing, so I told him to go
ahead.”
She cleared her scratchy throat. “I really
need you back behind the wheel, HW. I think a lot of people do. This is no time
to be sitting out the race.”
A furrow formed between Henrietta’s brows and
her lids slowly opened. Her eyes wandered for an instant and then found
Derian’s. The haze gave way to sharp clarity. “Who’s sitting out?”
Derian laughed, a great weight lifting from
her heart. “Just making the most of a rest stop, were you?”
“How bad?”
“Fixable.” Derian kissed her hand. “You’re
gonna have surgery in a few minutes.”
“Huh. The agency—”
“Will be there when you get out of here,”
Derian said vehemently. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Emily—”
“Emily can take care of everything.” Derian
pushed a hand through her hair. “Hell, she’s like a miniature of you.”
“Not true. Softer.” Henrietta’s voice was a
weak imitation of her usual full-bodied trumpet.
“That’s what you want everybody to think,”
Derian scoffed, “but I know better.”
“She’ll…need…help. Martin—”
“To hell with Martin.” Derian leaned closer.
“Listen, stop worrying about the agency. It’s been there a hundred years, and
it’ll be there a hundred more. But I’ll do whatever I can, I swear.”
“Good…always counted on you…”
Her eyes drifted close and Derian’s heart
twisted. She’d never wanted anyone to count on her, especially when she was
afraid she’d disappoint. But she couldn’t say no to Henrietta. “I swear.”
*
Emily didn’t go back to her office but walked
directly out of the conference room, down the stairs, and out into morning rush
hour, pausing just long enough to grab her coat and purse from her office. She
was too angry to think, and if she stayed she was likely to say something she’d
regret to one of the staff. No matter how infuriating she found Donatella’s
unnecessary presence, she was one of the senior staff members and, as
Henrietta’s de facto second, she had to maintain order and keep the office
running. If that meant putting up with Donatella Agnelli for the time being,
that’s what they’d all have to do until Emily could figure out some other plan.
She was a planner. That’s what she did. No matter what challenge confronted
her, she didn’t back down. She took her time, sorted out the options, made a
plan, and made it happen.