big group of friends.
With that regrettable memory prodding my back, I turn away from the view and head for the kitchen. Delilah has left me a lunch. There’s a note with instructions, as if it wouldn’t occur to me to take the cellophane wrap off the plate before I ate my food. Smirking, I set the note aside and am pulling the carefully wrapped plate out of the fridge when my phone dings.
It’s from North.
Someone’s gone viral. lol
I grow cold inside. Have more photos surfaced? I paid a lot of money to gather up the majority of the photos of me in the wreckage. But I might as well have tried to hold water in a sieve. North sends me a video link.
Hell, video?
Gritting my teeth, I click the link. And find my mouth falling open.
I’m so shocked I’m not sure I can trust what I’m seeing. But there Delilah is, standing on a chair in what looks to be Karen’s outer office and belting out Gloria Gaynor with such feeling it almost makes up for her terrible singing voice. Almost.
Delilah shimmies and shakes, setting all her abundant curves in glorious motion. She is completely uninhibited. And she is magnificent.
A laugh bursts out of me. I laugh so hard my bruised ribs protest. But I can’t stop. It keeps tumbling out. I laugh until tears leak from my eyes. And just when I finally get myself under control, I break down and start all over again.
I can’t help it. The video is just so Delilah and yet not. It’s the Delilah I always suspected hid under the surface, yet so much more. It’s clear she’s performing to piss Karen off, and it’s obviously working judging by Karen’s screeches.
I’m suddenly extremely sorry I wasn’t there to witness all of this in person.
The second viewing only gets better.
I’m wheezing with laughter when the phone rings. Karen’s name flashes on the screen, and I know I’m in for an earful. I can’t control my voice when I answer.
“Oh, good,” Karen snaps. “You’re laughing. Clearly you’ve seen it.”
A snicker escapes before I clear my throat. “Twice, actually.”
“Are you going to do something about it?”
“Such as?”
There’s a sound of utter disgust. “Fire her, obviously.”
“For that?” I unwrap my lunch and find a cold Moroccan-style chicken-and-bulgur salad. “It was the best laugh I’ve had in years. I’m kind of thinking she needs a raise.”
Well, I’d give her one if she was working for a salary. Ah, that pinches. Right in the guilt department. I shake it off as Karen launches into a tirade.
“She is completely unprofessional with that little stunt.”
“And I’m sure it wasn’t at all instigated,” I add dryly.
“What are you suggesting, Macon?”
“I know Delilah. She doesn’t act out so much as she reacts. What did you do?”
A huff comes over the phone. “Not a thing. I was going about my workday—a day that includes making your career shine, I might add—when I heard her god-awful caterwauling.”
Caterwauling is a good word for Delilah’s singing. My lips twitch, the urge to lose it once more rising up. I swallow it down and take a bite of my lunch instead. Jesus, the woman can cook. I take a bigger bite, practically shoving the salad in my mouth, suddenly starving.
“You cannot be serious about keeping her around,” Karen says. “Even without her poor behavior, she’s an utter embarrassment to you.”
I freeze, fork laden with food halfway to my mouth. “Karen,” I say calmly. “I appreciate that you’re upset, but that’s the last time you speak about Delilah that way.”
She’s silent for a beat. “You’re taking her side?”
“There aren’t any sides—”
“After all these years of working together, all I’ve done for you?”
“Cut it out, Karen. You were a shit to her at lunch. And—”
“So was she!”
“This is beneath you,” I say in a low voice. “Making comments about her weight or appearance isn’t what I hired you to do. I know you are better than that.”
I want off this phone. I want to eat my lunch. Actually, I really want to see Delilah and tease her about the video. Yes, I’m a little bit childish when it comes to Delilah.
Karen sniffs, collecting her dignity. “All right. I concede; that wasn’t well done of me.”
I don’t say a thing.
“I don’t know why she irritates me,” Karen mutters.
But I do. Delilah sees right past people’s bullshit. Even if she doesn’t call a person on it, they somehow know she sees them. It chafes if the person doesn’t like who they are