"Nicole? Are you still there?" Kent sounds like he's asked this a couple of times, and his voice sounds impatient. I shake myself from where I'm standing at my hotel window, staring through the dingy gray curtains out onto an even dingier gray street.
"Sorry," I say. "I'm here. I'm just – well, Kent, I'm really freaking terrified."
Kent's voice softens immediately.
"I know, Nick," he says. His tone becomes low, soothing, steady. I latch onto it, letting it ground me. "Trust me, this is big, and I'd be scared shitless if I were you, too."
"Gee, that makes me feel better," I say, trying to make a joke of it. Kent laughs, softly and kindly.
"It should," he says. "Look, Nicole, you'd be an i***t if you weren't scared. I'm scared. I'd feel a lot less confident in this plan if you weren't
