Chapter 10
“Can you take them to the dining room?” the blond girl at the front desk asked. “All the way down the hall, a left, another left, and then straight ahead.”
The question had been rhetorical, I figured, since it was followed by directions. I set down the pies on her desk and thought about bolting. Instead, I hiked up my pants—which had been falling lower and lower since I’d started across the parking lot—and then grabbed the boxes. The top one fell. “Fuck.” I looked at the receptionist and pictured her teaching Sunday school on her day off. “Sorry.” The box was sealed. I hadn’t made a mess, but I could only imagine what the pie was going to look like once it was opened.