Twisted Lies

“Stella!” My heart rate sped up. Nothing triggered my fight or flight like the sound of Meredith’s voice. “Yes?” I hid my trepidation behind a neutral expression. “I trust you can bring all the items back to the office yourself.” She slipped on her coat and tossed her handbag over her shoulder. “I have a dinner reservation I simply can’t miss.” “Of—" She disappeared out the door. “Course I can,” I finished. The photographer shot me a sympathetic look, which I answered with a tired shrug.