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there much when he was growing up. I had a different life then. But you see…” he paused and Nikki could see that he looked tired, more tired than when she had entered. “It’s bad, I know,” he said, his voice sunk to a whisper.
    “What’s bad?” asked Nikki.
    “I don’t trust him, Nikki,” he said squinting up at her, pain in his eyes. “He’ll poke and pry and he won’t let up until he’s got his pound of flesh.”
    The doctor came brushing through the curtain, took one look at Mr. Merrivel and frowned at Nikki.
    “I think it’s time you were going,” said the doctor firmly.
    Mr. M eased back on his pillows.
    “Call Angela, tell her to do what I said.” Nikki held still a moment, trying to decide if she really would do it or if she was going to lie. “Nicole!” he said sharply, clearly reading her thought process as if it was written on her face.
    “Yes, I’ll do it,” said Nikki, bowing her head.
    “There’s my girl,” he said, patting her hand. “Knew I could count on you.”

Deadhorse
    “You know,” said Angela, as Nikki signed, flipped the page, and signed again. “Mr. M sometimes jokes that I’m too efficient to be working for him and that really I should be working for his wife.”
    “And what do you say?” asked Nikki, scanning the document one last time. Jane was hovering a few steps away, trying not to intrude, but the way she clutched her iPad to her chest, Nikki knew that whatever she wanted was urgent.
    “I usually say something about being afraid of estrogen poisoning, but I have to say,” Angela took a moment to look around the lobby of the Carrie Mae building, “You guys look like you’re doing pretty well for yourselves.”
    “We do ok,” said Nikki, smiling. “And I suppose it didn’t occur to Mr. M to mention that we also get free make-up as a perk?”
    “Oooh,” cooed Angela, then laughed. “Nah, I could never work in the non-profit world. I don’t mind having a mission and all that, but I can’t stand all the touchy feely crap.”
    Nikki shrugged and smiled again.
    “You’re going to see him tonight, right?” asked Angela, taking the signed power of attorney back. “I’ll get this filed and make sure it’s on record at the hospital,” she said, as Nikki nodded. “I just... I really hope he comes through this ok.” Angela smiled awkwardly, trying to hide the depth of her emotions.
    “He has to,” said Nikki. “We need him.”
    “Right,” said Angela. “We’ll just stick with positive thinking. Anyway, don’t hesitate to call if either of you need anything.”
    “Thanks,” said Nikki.
    Jane inched forward and cleared her throat.
    “Mm, I know what that means,” said Angela, eyeing Jane. “I’ll let you get back to work.” She shook Nikki’s hand, before walking to the door, her high heels making an echoing click on the tile floor.
    Ellen pushed through one side of the double-doors as Angela pushed out the other. Jenny, following Ellen so closely that Nikki assumed that they had arrived together and that Jenny’s car must be in the shop again, checked out Angela’s shoes.
    “Jane, put Angela on the long-range outreach list,” said Nikki.
    “I thought Mr. M’s peeps were on the no-touchy list,” said Jane.
    “Mr. M. is only planning on working for another five years tops. Long-range outreach is three to seven. By the time they reel her in, she won’t be working for Mr. M anymore.”
    “Or maybe you think Mr. M will be dead,” said Jane, her voice rough in anger.
    “Mr. M isn’t going to die,” said Nikki, as calmly as possible. “But I might if I have to listen to Legal bitch one more time about how no one’s recruiting lawyers with real world experience.”
    “Was that Angela from Mr. M’s firm?” asked Ellen. Ellen was dressed in a casual sweater, collared shirt, black pants and loafers. Privately, Nikki always thought she looked as though she had just come from boating.
    “Nice shoes,” said Jenny. “$350, if