"Chinese or Italian?" Natalie asks.

"I'm never coming out of this office again," I say.

"Okay," she replies.  "Chinese, then."

"I mean it."  I tip my head back against the top of the couch.  "You'll have to put a camera in here so I can do the show on location.  Remote reports from the table in the corner.  Kung pao chicken, please.  With extra sweet and sour sauce."

She cocks her head and leans on the door frame.  "You're sulking."

I fold my hands and sit forward.  "I'm not sulking.  If anyone's sulking--"

"Then why are you hiding in here?"  Natalie interrupts.

"The question, really, is why I would even leave here.  'Cause, you know, I love it here.  And unlike Casey, I love my job, so I think I'm just gonna stay in here forever."

"Danny," she says.  "Dan.  Danny."

"You know, if you keep going with that, you're just going to turn into my mother." I stood up and stretched.  "Yelling at the neighbors' dogs, cooking matzoh, stuff like that.  You wouldn't be very happy."

Her forehead wrinkles.  "Your mother's not happy?"

"My mother's fine."

"But you just said--"

"My mother's fine, Natalie; nothing is wrong with my mother.  But you wouldn't be happy if you had my mother's life."  The back of my neck is in knots.  I reach up and rub it.  "And you wouldn't be a great mother, either."

Her voice can get so sharp so quickly.  She folds her arms.  "You're awfully snippy when you're sulking."

"I'm not sulking.  I'm pissed off.  And I appear to be the only one who isn't taking this in stride."  And the only one who knows why it's happened.

"Nobody's taking it in stride," she insists, hugging herself tight as if she might burst.  "But this is my job, Dan, not my playground.  So I have to keep doing it.  It doesn't just hang on one person's presence."

"Yeah?  What if it was Jeremy?"

I wish I hadn't said that.  But she fixes me with a calm stare.  "It wouldn't be Jeremy."

She's right.  It wouldn't be Jeremy, because Jeremy would never fuck me and then completely lose his shit over it.  But Natalie's right.  "Yeah," I say.  "How much do I owe you for the chicken?"

"Four-fifty."

I fish a twenty out of my pocket.  "Keep it."

Natalie shakes her head.  "I'll bring your change when I've collected from everyone."

"Don't worry about it," I say, and I'm not sure whether I'm being sincere or whether I'm trying to get her out of my sanctum.  "Remember the extra sauce."

She turns to go and then turns back.  Her hair falls into her face and she pushes it away.  "Casey'll come back," she says.  "Dana will get him back.  You'll see."

I shake my head and sit back down on the couch again.  Natalie leaves and it's mostly quiet.  I wonder if the door locks.  I should have had my own office in the first place.