Page 17 - LSFlipFinalV7

NICHOLAS BOOTHMAN
And just like that, the day began. The pressure
cooker was on.
The commute was another layer of daily torment.
The subway, a sardine can on wheels, amplified her
already heightened senses. The clamor of
conversations, the pungent mix of body odor and stale
coffee, the jostling of bodies – it all contributed to the
dull throb behind her eyes. She longed for the days
when she could lose herself in a good book or simply
watch the world go by, but those moments felt like a
luxury from a past life.
Billie’s cube, was a small island in a sea of identical
workstations. Sticky notes littered her monitor. Her
inbox a battlefield. Her calendar a dense block of
back-to-back meetings.
“Billie, a moment?” Julian’s voice, smooth as
polished granite, cut through the office buzz. He
stood by her cube, impeccably dressed, a faint smile
playing on his lips.
“Of course, Julian,” she said, her stomach
clenching.
“Just checking in on the Phoenix report. We need it
finalized by noon. The board presentation is moving
up.”
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