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Her stomach made her stop, and she realized that she had no idea what Icelandic food was Herring? Aietarian restaurant That had to have soht? When she walked up to the counter the wo the out, and then she turned to Lydia and said in perfect, just barely accented English, "Hello How irl was probably high school age, with braided blonde hair and a wide srilled chicken salad, please" She paused, amused and a bit dulish?"

The girl suess" Then she leaned in and whispered, "Actually, it was your shoes"

"My shoes?"

"You wear Merrells Most of the A to fit in wear Merrells"

Lydia laughed "What dogirl looked at her, tilted her head, srilled chicken salad"

And then she stopped and said, "Wait a etarian restaurant?"

"We do have a vegetarian menu, but we serve chicken and fish"

"Ah, okay"

"As for the Icelanders, rilled chicken salad, too" The two of theether Lydia could feel a palpable sense of relief seeping in She ordered an Orangina to go with her salad, and it was all ready in minutes She sat at a simple, Formica-topped table, with cheap red plastic chairs that you could have found in any college town in the United States

As she h the salad, her body allowed her to finally feel how tired she was and how overwhel a nourishingit with different words, different architecture, different cultural noruts to oing to be okay

Huiven her any sense of what to expect in the office other than handing her the address and saying good luck So when she walked up to thethat faced the bay, she walked into the unknown Dressing thathad been an exercise in futility After five different clothing changes she just gave up and figured if she made a mistake, she made a mistake People here seemed to be more casual, more practicallynice business shoes, business casual slacks, a blouse, a sweater in case it was cold, and hoped like hell she wasn’t expected to wear a suit

The stairs led to a beige cubicle farm She could have been in don Boston She could have been in Charlotte, North Carolina She could have been in Portland, Oregon It was a beige cubicle farger than twelve desks

"Is this Bournham Industries?" she asked the first person she saw, a pleasant-looking young woman who marched passed her with her arms filled with files

"Ah, yes it is," the woht accent "Are you Lydia?" she asked

"Yes, I am Lydia Charles Is this--"

"You’re the new director of communications," the woman said She was older than Lydia by about ten years, and sleek and slim like someone who did triathlons The weathered face attested to time spent outside, with a tall, live, thin body that had an abdout Not that itanywhere)

The woman shifted her folders into one arm and then reached out to shake Lydia’s hand "I’m Elsa It’s nice to meet you Let me show you to your desk"

Desk? She only had a desk? She thought she’d have an office Elsa had long brown hair ht blue that she’d come to notice on more and more people here Elsa marched with a deliberateness, an efficiency that Lydia appreciated instantly And then she found herself at her office Indeed A piece of paper tacked to the outside cubicle that said Lydia Charles, Director of Communications for European Operations There was a Dell desktop on the desk, a can full of pens, a printer, a ream of paper--and that was it

Lydia dropped her laptop bag slowly onto the spare chair in the cubicle and said, "So…" The word lingered in the air as Lydia thought second by second through what she was about to say If she asked, "So what do I do now?"-- her impulse--she would look like she couldn’t lead If she asked for more direction, she worried that Elsa would think she was an idiot and yet, here she stood in front of this desk that looked not at all unlike her desk at home, and as she supposed to do?

Elsa seemed i at Lydia and finally saying, "Letdread filled her stos, down her ari Elsa She heard thein a cubicle, speaking, she assule word It was a quiet, creepy space Not sobut because Lydia was beginning to feel that she had made a terrible, terrible ht this second

"Hello," said a booht in her thoughts She turned to find her face filled with a sweater and then looked up, and up, and up At five foot six she wasn’t a particularly short woman, but the face she finally craned back to look up to had to coht He made Miles look short--and she’d never uy really looked like a Viking It was a joking stereotype, but the long, flowing, wavy brown hair, the broad cheekbones, the slightly narrowed eyes, the big mouth, incredibly broad shoulders that literally blocked out the sun fros like tree trunks e who could play Rurik or Leif Eriksson on a History Channeldown to shake her hand It was like shaking hands with a warm baseball mitt, and he took her hand in both of his and pu like Chiclets She could just stare up du her head, that she had to get out of this trance

"Hello I’m Lydia"