“I can’t believe she wants us in at six. It’s one in the morning,” I’m complaining to the rest of my team members on the verge of another meltdown.
“I’m exhausted,” another of my team members, Kevin confesses.
We pile into the waiting taxi, a minivan that can hold us all.
“We’re in Paris and we haven’t seen anything that isn’t between the hotel and the office.” Sarah agrees, sounding as frustrated as I feel.
The van pulls to a stop in front of the hotel.
“We just have to hold it together for just two more weeks,” says Kyle, our 6’2” cheerleader, trying to rally us as he opens the van door.
I hop out of the van.
“We’ve been working like this for six weeks. I can’t think anymore,” I say, yelling at the rest of the team on the verge of another meltdown.
Kyle grabs the back of my head and shoves my face into his armpit.
“What are you doing?” I ask or maybe scream, smacking him with my ineffectual fists.
“Calming you down. Male musk has a calming effect on females.”
“Do I seem calm?” I’m still struggling to extract my head from his armpit.
“If you would just let biology work,” he says, finally releasing my head.
“I’m going to let anatomy work if you ever do that again.”
