Both the design firm and the architects who occupied the main floor were in, so Nik muted his whistling as much as his mood would allow. For the first time in months he was beginning to feel that they might be getting a handle on things, that everything might yet return to normal—or at least what they’d considered normal for the last century or so. Arlene and Marg were at their desks when he reached the second-floor landing, but he could see that Elaine’s office door was open, so he blew them kisses as he went by. Elaine was dictating into her headset—looked like the Finnegan Brothers were going to settle out of court—and she raised her finger at him. He waited until she finished, and unhooked her earpiece. “How are you feeling?” he said as he threw himself into the more comfortable of her client chairs. “I believe the expression is dazed and confused.” Elaine leaned back in her own chair and sighed. “Nikki, I take back every time I ever felt impatient with you, and every time I got pissed when you took off, leaving me to deal with clients while you ran off to help someone.
