See You Next Tuesday

PROLOGUE: Lights, Camera, Action 

Swathes of satiny fuchsia fabric curtained the back of the stage and rotating spotlights bathed the room in a pretty pink glow. Glasses clinked, cutlery clattered, and voices hummed above the soft jazz being pumped through the speakers. People, mostly women, were outfitted in high heels and cocktail dresses better suited for a Friday night black-tie event than a Tuesday afternoon gala.

Lily was seated at her company’s table surrounded by several of her Black Maple Bank colleagues, including her boss, Elliot.

“. . . for you, Lily?”

Lily snapped her head to the left at the sound of her coworker River’s voice.

She had no idea what he had just said. “Sorry?” Lily said apologetically, both eyebrows raised in question.

River smiled kindly. “I asked if this is the first time you’ve been to one of these things?” He gestured vaguely at their surroundings.

“Oh . . . ,” Lily nodded with a nervous smile, “yes.”

The society pages popped into her head. How many people regularly attend events like this, she wondered—getting all dolled up, putting on a fancy dress and pumps, and paying for a plated meal that was the size of a canapé?

Lily had no idea, of course—she wasn’t one of them.

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, discreetly adjusting her long black gown at the same time. She was sweating like a boxer in the final round—an apt comparison considering her situation—and the polyester fabric stuck to her skin like cling wrap. Air conditioning blasted from the ceiling, but it was no match for the heat generated by some four-hundred- odd bodies packed into the event space.

In a word, she was sweltering.

But it wasn’t entirely owing to the crowd. Lily’s headgear also had played a part; it trapped heat like a winter scarf in July.

“River! Hi!”

River turned to a woman on his other side who had just approached the table, and Lily went back to discreetly scanning the room. Owing entirely to circumstances of her own making, Lily’s nerves were at an all-time high. She was actively deceiving several people in the room that afternoon and she couldn’t, absolutely could not, blow her cover.

Not that she seriously believed her scheme would work. In fact, she fully expected it to blow up in her face. Her odds of success were low. Like betting it all on black and winning. Lower, actually. More like purchasing a lotto ticket for the $60 million jackpot and actually taking home the prize.

No, the odds certainly weren’t in her favour, but she really didn’t have any other choice. If she didn’t manage to pull this off, if she got caught, her life would be over.

Okay, that might be a slight exaggeration.

Her life wouldn’t be over, no. But she would end up jobless and probably have to move back home with her parents. As much as she loved them, that was not a prospect she wanted to face. Especially given her mom and dad had no idea what their eldest daughter had been up to. Which was, in a nutshell, pretending to be several people she wasn’t.

Not in an illegal kind of way. She didn’t have fake passports or government ID, no. What Lily was doing couldn’t be considered criminal. In her mind she had come to justify it as the employment equivalent of using a friend or family member’s Costco card. It wasn’t illegal, per se, but it was against the rules. Which made it somewhat of a gray zone. A morally ambiguous area that enabled Lily to operate guilt free.

Guilt free, but definitely not consequence free, she reflected for the hundredth time that day. Given the situation she was in this afternoon, it felt like she may have pushed the envelope just a little too far. Some higher power—the universe, God, karma, whatever you want to call it—was punishing her for her gray-area operations. Which was why, if she made it through this afternoon unscathed and with all her personas undiscovered, she had vowed she was going to go straight. There was only so far you could tempt fate before fate stepped forward and gave you a smack.

A bead of sweat rolled down Lily’s temple. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Caroline—her boss, the CEO of People Helping People—approaching her table.

Fuck.

Lily’s stomach dropped.

Had Caroline noticed her? Had she seen through her disguise? Was she about to blow Lily’s cover?

Her heart rate quickened as Caroline came closer.

How would Lily explain the fact that she was sitting at the employee table for Black Maple Bank when she was a full-time employee at People Helping People?

She couldn’t, obviously, cop to the truth. Which was that she was simultaneously employed as a full-time staffer at both companies. Made possible, of course, by the advent of fully remote, work-from-home arrangements.

And Lily’s own questionable decision making, of course.

Lily felt her cheeks flush as she picked up the glossy agenda for the afternoon and buried her face in it. Several seconds passed before she sneaked a peak over the top of the agenda. Relief washed over her as Caroline, apparently oblivious to Lily’s presence, walked past her table and headed towards a seat several tables away.

Lily’s breathing began to regulate and the fear that had clutched the pit of her stomach eased momentarily. She had dodged one bullet, but the gala was far from over. Whether she would be able to pull off a Neo from The Matrix this afternoon, or if she was going to end up like Sonny Corleone in The Godfather, remained to be seen.

A shudder went through her at the thought. Given the stakes and the improbability of her disguise, Lily figured she was more likely to end up like the doomed Italian—taken out in a hail of bullets, the gunfire continuing long after he had met his maker.

 Stop, stop—he’s already dead, went through her head.

That would be Lily.

Of course, the bullets she was dodging weren’t literal. But figuratively, there were plenty: HR, her bosses, her coworkers, the destruction of her livelihoods . . . just to name a few.

She forced her mind on the program in her hands, titled “Women In Power.” She had already read it front to back. Twice. While the whole afternoon was nothing short of a nightmare, there was one particular portion of the program that she was dreading. A portion that would be the equivalent of trying to walk across a tightrope in gale-force winds while a vat of hungry sharks circled below.

It was a portion that was fast approaching.

She saw Caroline, seated some six tables away, pick up her program.

Lily drew in a shaky breath.

Suddenly, an amplified voice cut through the room’s chatter and Lily felt her stomach drop again.

“Thank you, everyone!” the voice boomed through the speakers as the conversations quieted down. “I hope you’re all enjoying the dessert!”

Lily glanced at the untouched tiramisu in front of her with regret. Maybe she should have had a couple of bites. Something to settle her stomach. Something to ground her. She hadn’t touched her lunch either. She didn’t think her stomach, which was currently doing a good impression of Cirque du Soleil, could have handled it.

The woman’s voice droned on and Lily zoned out. She focused on her breathing. In . . . one-two-three, out . . . one-two-three. Several seconds later there was a smattering of applause and then the words she had been dreading cut through her meditation: “I would like to welcome Lily Hart to the stage.”

Applause thundered around the room, no more enthusiastic than at the Black Maple Bank table where Lily’s colleagues cheered her on with vim. A jolt of adrenaline shot through her, and her stomach clenched in knots.

“Go on, Lily!” her boss, Elliot, urged her with a wide grin.

She took a deep breath and prayed to all the gods she could think of that this wouldn’t go sideways. Her heart sank and her knees wobbled as she pushed her chair back and stood up. She couldn’t believe she was about to do this. There was no way she was actually going to get through this.

The presenter beamed at the audience, waiting for Lily to make her way on stage. Which . . . took a bit, given Black Maple’s table was at the back of the room.

Lily’s heart beat wildly in her chest as she threw her shoulders back and walked towards the stage with a lot more confidence than she was feeling. The applause continued and she focused on the stage, avoiding eye contact with the crowd, most of whom sported looks of mild confusion at her appearance.

When she reached the stairs, she paused, suddenly light-headed. She thought she might be about to faint. The encouraging face of the host—a vision in bright pearly whites, kind eyes, and a red gown—did nothing to quell the feeling.

How had this afternoon taken such a bad turn? she thought desperately. “Women In Power” was supposed to have been a straightforward corporate event. Instead, it was teetering on the edge of disaster. If even one person connected the dots this afternoon, Lily’s carefully constructed web of lies would come crashing down.

A warm smile spread across the host’s face, and she gestured for Lily to come on stage.

Lily bit her lip.

This was it.

The moment of truth.

There was no more time to stall.

She took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and stepped onto the first stair.