He froze.
“What?”
“When did you interview in person?”
He didn’t answer.
“When?”
“The conference in May.”
I closed the folder.
“May.”
“Yes.”
“So this didn’t begin four months ago.”
“The first official conversation was four months ago.”
“And before that?”
He looked down.
“I visited the hospital.”
I stared at him.
“You interviewed in May.”
“Informally.”
“Ben.”
“I wanted to see the place.”
“Without telling me.”
“Yes.”
I stood up.
“I need space.”
He nodded.
“Okay.”
That afternoon, I went into his office looking for my phone charger.
His laptop was still open.
A message appeared on the screen.
Then a voice came through the speakers.
“We’re still happy to honor the schedule you negotiated.”
I stopped.
Ben walked in behind me.
“What schedule?”
He sighed.
“Fewer overnight calls.”
“Anything else?”
“Two later starts.”
“And?”
He hesitated.
“One Friday off every month.”
“For what?”
He looked uncomfortable.
“Olive.”
I stared at him.
