The Board Meeting
Andrew O’Brien had never been late to a board meeting in his life. But today, at 9:02 A.M., he sat at his desk and stared out the picture window toward the Bay Bridge.
Any confidence he felt last night on his way home from the BART station had disappeared. The men in his strange dream—Charlie, the Bald Man, the Tall Man, the Stylish Man—could not have seemed less relevant now. Andrew was dreading the next few hours of his life.
The phone on his desk rang, and Andrew hit the speaker button.
She told him what he already knew: “We’re waiting for you.”
“I’m on my way.”
Andrew took a deep breath and headed for the door.
Because it was the annual board meeting, the room was crowded. ...