Eighteen ◑ The Sleep

Hair: check. Makeup: check. No crease in the dress: check. Phone: check. Purse: check. Cade still snoozing away on his bed: triple check.

Lucille was ready to leave. Not only because her pristine, sophisticated reflection was looking back at her, but because last night's trick worked like a charm. Four drops of sleeping draught into Cade's hot chocolate, and bam. Now there was no chance of him waking up in time for the seminar.

Okay, fine, she hadn't gone overboard. In the end, her tiny conscience won.

She knew that four drops of the stuff was a lot, considering how potent it was. But hey, the guy was safe. She made sure of that. His chest was still heaving up and down. Even though he was facing the windows and was directly under the sunlight, his face was as stoic and as peaceful as a statue's. There was even a little smile on his face, which made her heart ache.

She hoped against hope that William would fire him quickly.

Lucille slung her purse over her arm and gave Cade one last guilty look before marching towards the door. She reminded herself about what he'd done to Mia and why he deserved this. But as she got out of Mermaid Hotel and got a cab to Saint Joseph College, she realized that she wasn't certain about anything. Unlike all the other people she'd punished before, Cade wasn't despicable.

This was just her duty. Her job. It was nothing personal.

But it was getting to that point.

As much as she didn't want to admit, Cade hadn't been a bad company last night. He'd cracked jokes, offered to get food for her, and made sure she was comfortable. Even as he'd felt the first waves of drowsiness from the draught, he'd been nothing but . . . okay.

Which was why she needed to bring his demise fast. Forget about the pleasure of torture. She'd just have to settle with being even and that would be it.

This was what she kept in mind as she arrived at the campus. The brown bricks and clear glass facade of the buildings reached out into the faint blue sky. The sunlight was diffused by the thin clouds, yet what little of it turned the grassy lawns into shiny, emerald fields. Young men and women, all sporting varying degrees of fatigue, were walking around the concrete paths. Some of them turned as she walked past, but she just stared straight ahead and headed to the hall.

And to her surprise, it was full.

However, she didn't get the time to digest just how many kids were sitting on the black chairs arranged before the podium. As soon as she stepped in, a gray-haired woman in a pinstriped pantsuit blocked her view.

"Lucille Saint-Claire?" she ventured, casting a look down Lucille's dress.

Lucille flashed her the most charming smile she could muster and held out a hand. "Yes, that's me. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Devon Murray," she replied gaily, her face wrinkling with a smile as they shook hands. "I'm the career coordinator. I've been corresponding with Cade Linden, your branch manager."

Devon craned her neck to look behind Lucille like she was expecting Cade to pop up and yell, "Surprise!"

Oh, Lucille had a surprise for her, alright. "Um, about Cade . . . You see, we came in very late last night and I don't know if he'd taken something to help him sleep, because this morning he was impossible to wake up."

The old woman's beady eyes went wide. "What?"

"It's not what you think," Lucille added quickly. "He's just really, really sound asleep. I tried everything."

"But the kids are expecting him to be here." Devon's voice rang shrilly. "These are literature majors. Most of them have been excited to see someone from publishing company."

Wow. That was stupid for Devon to say, Lucille thought. What was Lucille supposed to be if not a representative of a publishing company? A blonde rat in a nice dress? What was this woman trying to say?

"It's why I'm here," Lucille said jovially, but deep inside she wanted to snatch Devon's earrings and rip her lobe. "I'll be taking over his part of the presentation. Don't worry, I'll make the kids listen."

"He's really not coming?"

"I don't know for sure." Okay, now Lucille was sure this woman was one of the people charmed by Cade. "We can wait if you like."

"No, no, no." She still sounded unsure about her own words. "I can't make the kids wait. But at the same time, I can't. . . ."

She trailed off, and Lucille waited for her to regain her wits. Devon's eyes were roaming around the hall, her brows reaching a frown when her gaze passed by the podium. Lucille braced herself. Please, this woman couldn't be seriously considering—

"Okay, you may handle the presentations," she said at last. "I may have to tell William about this."

Lucille beamed. "Thank you."

The idea of taking over sparked excitement in her, but being behind the podium turned out to be painfully boring. The high of getting rid of Cade made her forget that she had to talk about marketing strategies and demographic analysis in relation to the world of publishing.

Yawn to the tenth power.

Behind her was a screen flashing the presentation that showed off Paradigm Publishing's commercial successes, put together by no other than Cade.

Cade, who'd lose his job soon enough.

For some reason, thinking about this dampened her energy levels. She began to discuss faster, and in return the students were all tuning in.

"The important thing is to get creative, but not recklessly so," Lucille told her audience. "You have to be original and unique, yes, but you also have to be calculated, smart. The industry is highly competitive, and the sad reality is that you can't go by luck and talent alone. Choosing the right platform for your works would make all the difference. Here at Paradigm, we make sure our authors are ahead of the game."

The students closest to her all nodded fervently. She had a strong feeling that they weren't really taking in what she was saying, but decided to go on anyway. "Not many people understand that the success of a published material depends heavily on the—"

"Wait!"

Everyone turned to the entrance of the hall, where the voice had come from. Lucille had to walk around the podium to see, and by God she wasn't prepared for it.

Cade. It was Cade. He'd dramatically bursted through the doors like a movie star, and now he was jogging along the aisle in the middle of the hall. Every single student was looking at him, and rightly so. He was wearing a nice gray suit, but his tie was undone. His white shirt was untucked. There was a toothpaste smear on the left side of his mouth.

He was staggering, swaying from side to side like one of those drunkards you'd see at Vegas Strip at the buttcrack of dawn. His hair on the left side of his head was sticking out. There was a droopy haze to his eyes that indicated he wasn't fully awake.

In short, he was the perfect epitome of the word 'tardy'.

Despite herself, Lucille felt bad. The fact that he managed to wake up quite early was was kind of impressive, though.

Unfortunately, this didn't change the fact that he was still basically whimpering while dragging his feet across the shiny floor.

"Um." Lucille stepped off the podium, met him halfway, and steered him to the side of the stage, where they were hidden from most of the students' curious gazes. "Cade?" She patted his cheek. "Cade, look at me. What happened to you? I was trying to wake you up!"

"I know, I'm sorry!" Up close, he looked much worse. There was a strong just-rolled-out-of-bed vibes emanating from him. He smelled like the bleach on the sheets. He kept teetering on his feet, so he propped a hand on her shoulder for support. "I don't know what happened. I'm awake now, but my brain is still stuck on dreamland."

She swallowed back a gurgle of apologies. "Cade, you should probably go rest. You've been tired the whole week. This is just—"

"Unacceptable." Devon suddenly came stomping close to them, urgently beckoning them to stand closer to the sudden area. "Mister Linden. I'm so disappointed."

Her tone was so venomous that even Lucille winced.

Cade was losing it. "Mrs. Murray, I'm so sorry. I don't know what happened. I just fell asleep and the next thing I knew—"

"You're late," Devon reminded him pointedly, "for four hours."

"Yes. But you see—"

"No. No, you can't make an excuse for this. We're paying your company for this. Your honorarium is about to be wired to your account."

Lucille frowned. She wasn't informed there was money involved.

Over at the main venue, and announcement was being recited into the mic by a female voice. "We're going to have a fifteen minute break. Refreshments are at the back. We'll be continuing shortly. Thank you."

Cade withered at the sound of it. "I'll finish the other half." He tried to straighten up but almost went diving into the nearest chair. When Lucille came to help him, he waved her off. "No, I'm fine. I'll just do the last bit—"

Devon snatched his hand from Lucille's arm. "No. You are not going to do anything. Miss Lucille will finish this. And you should go back to the hotel and pack up."

Silence. Thick and tensed and just deliciously awkward. Cade was staring warily at Devon, opening and closing his mouth. Lucille was looking at him, anticipating his next move.

Devon, on the other hand, was fiddling with her phone. Through her peripheral vision, Lucille saw that she was calling William Forrest.