Abby
My eyes snap open to discover that someone, in the span of what feels like five minutes, my office has grown dark. There’s a hand on my shoulder, and an all-too-familiar face—with a smirk on it, of course—staring down at me.
“Sleepy?” Karl asks, his lips twitching into a grin.
I shake my head and sit up, trying to regain a sense of reality. The glare of the desk lamp scatters across stacks of invoices and order forms, casting a dim amber glow over everything.
“No,” I lie, looking away as Karl crosses the room back to the doorway. “I was just putting my head down for a few minutes.”
A quick glance at the clock reveals that it’s almost eight o’clock, and considering the fact that it’s a Wednesday, the restaurant is already mostly quiet. Through my half-open office do
