Chapter 21: The Vote

Sylvia's POV

Calvin was on Gwen's porch at seven on Monday morning with two coffees, and I did not take either one.

"You went to see Diana," I said.

"Yes."

"You went to a director's house after that. The chairman called me about it at six."

"Yes."

"You didn't ask me."

"No." He set the coffees on the rail. "I thought you had enough to carry, and I thought I could carry it."

"For seventeen years men have decided what I could carry," I said. "Russell. His assistant. A promise in a sickroom. And you, for sixteen of them."

He took that without moving.

"I'm sorry," he said. "Not for the diner. For not asking."

"Say it plainly."

"Next time I will ask you first, and I will abide by the answer."

"Even if you think I'm wrong."

"Especially then."

I picked up one of the coffees, because my hands were cold.

"Diana said you're in love with me," I said. "She said it was obvious."

"It was a long diner conversation."

"Is it true?"

"Yes."

Gwen's front window moved, and a curtain dropped.

"Good," I said. "Say it again after the vote."

The boardroom on the top floor of Kincaid Freight had a table for twelve and a wall of glass.

By nine o'clock the corridor outside was packed with staff, who had found excuses to be on that floor.

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