Hello everyone, I've decided to post this fic here in addition to the other sites it's hosted on. I'm probably going to upload chapters in batches to get caught up. I hope you all enjoy it!

Emily typically received anywhere between twenty and thirty phone calls a day. They were mostly business-related, though a few were arguably more personal – business partners and acquaintances asking her out to lunch or coffee to discuss new ideas and potential partnerships. She'd become so accustomed to her phone buzzing that she thought nothing of it anymore.

As usual, her phone began vibrating across the surface of her desk as she tapped away at her keyboard with perfectly-manicured fingernails. She glanced over at the screen. An unknown number. She didn't have time for unknown numbers. If it was important enough, they'd leave a voicemail.

She finished the spreadsheet she'd forced herself to complete shortly before five o'clock. Thank God. She hated staying late to finish what should have already been done. As she packed up for the day she glanced one more time at her phone. The unknown number hadn't left a voicemail or anything. Strange.

The hallway outside her office was already filling with foot traffic. Everyone was eager to get home after a long day. Emily took a minute to fix her hair and smooth her skirt, then she slung her handbag over her shoulder and stepped out into the hall, locking her door behind her.

The walk out at the end of the work day was always the most satisfying part for Emily. Her thousand-dollar heels clicked down the tiled hall, drawing the attention of everyone around her. She sashayed down the hallway with an air of both grace and dominance – a demeanor that told the lessers around her that she was the Alpha. She was on a level they could never even hope to ascend to.

Of course, she herself didn't buy any of it – she still picked herself apart flaw-by-flaw every day. But as long as she conveyed that false confidence as genuine to her inferiors, that was all that mattered. She was keenly aware of that.

The elevator doors at the end of the hall were open as she approached them. A few white men in suits were inside already. Pulling her weighty handbag higher up on her shoulder, Emily picked up the pace just the slightest bit.

The door began to close. The men inside, chatting away either on their phones or to one another, made no effort to hold it open. Emily had to stick her arm into the closing elevator to keep it open long enough for her to step inside.

She hated elevators enough to begin with. If taking fourteen flights of stairs in four-inch heels was practical or possible she'd be taking the stairs every day. Being closed in like this, vulnerable, lurching either upward or downward, bothered her for reasons she couldn't quite articulate. Despite the end-of-day walkout being her favorite part, riding the elevator definitely knocked its appeal down a few pegs from where it would be otherwise.

The only strategy she'd found to help alleviate the irrational discomfort was to stand against the back wall, the back of her head rested slightly against it, standing very still. As long as she was able to assume that position, the elevator ride became bearable. And then she got to continue her proud strut out the front doors and down to the parking lot.

On the way out her phone began to buzz again. She dug it out of her purse. The same unfamiliar number from a few minutes ago. Ugh, what the hell do they want?

"Hello?" she answered the call with a huff. Usually she answered more formally, but after a long day of bullshit she didn't feel up to formality.

"…Emily?" a female voice said.

Emily fished out the keys to her S-class Benz Coupe, parked in a spot reserved solely for her. "Yes?" She tried–and failed–to mask her annoyance with the strange caller. "Who am I speaking to?"

"Wow, I can't believe I actually found you again!" The woman hesitated. "It's – it's Sam. We used to be friends, a hundred million years ago."

Emily stopped in the middle of unlocking her car.

"Do you remember me?" Sam asked after a moment.

Emily slowly pulled the key out of the lock and opened her car door. She hadn't spoken to Sam since The Incident ten years ago.

"Of course I remember you," she murmured as she slipped into her car and shut the door. "It's been ages, though – how did you find me?"

"I was searching for some old names, and I found your website. It had a number listed, so I figured I'd call and see where it went."

"Well, you got me." Emily slid the keys into the ignition, but didn't start the car. "So, uh, what's going on? How have you been?"

"I'm good." Her voice was as chipper and cheerful as ever. "And you?"

"Oh, I'm…you know." She shrugged, despite knowing Sam couldn't see the gesture. "Hanging in there."

"So I was thinking," Sam launched, practically cutting off Emily's response, "We should get together for lunch or something. According to your website your work is only about twenty minutes from where I live. It wouldn't be much of a ride for me to meet you near there sometime."

Emily considered it. She hadn't had a strictly-personal lunch date with anyone in a long time. And if Sam was still as easygoing as she used to be, it wouldn't be too stressful an outing.

"I don't work weekends," Em eventually said. "We could meet up somewhere this Sunday, if you wanted." It was the last time she'd be free for a while – meetings and conferences littered the next few weekends.

"Oh, that sounds great!" She could tell Sam was smiling by the tone of her voice. "I'm looking forward to reconnecting with old friends."

Emily finally started her car. "You said you were searching for old names. Have you…found anyone else? Besides me?"

"Yes," she replied, still smiling. "I'll tell you all about it over lunch."

Leverage, to keep Em intrigued so she wouldn't cancel the lunch date. Clever. "All right. Sunday, noontime? There's a nice coffee and sandwich shop fairly close by. I can text you the address before Sunday."

"Great! I'll see you then, Emily."

"See you." She hung up. As she pulled out of the parking lot, she found herself shaking her head. Why did I agree to that? She'd buried the past for a reason. Hearing Sam's voice, so familiar, so soothing, had clouded her better judgment. Well I'm committed to it now. Emily never backed out of an arrangement. It was unprofessional.

Now begins the four days of anticipation.