Free Circles of Confusion by April Henry Page B

exactly what you were saying."
    Roland made a soothing motion with open hands, as if Claire were a dangerous dog. "There's no need to go running off to HR about this. In fact, I was already planning on talking to HR about you in regard to a completely unrelated matter. There's a good possibility of a promotion in this department, and my input on it is pretty important." He gave her a strained, fearful smile. "How would you like to be sitting in this office someday?"
    "I don't want to be you, Roland." Claire didn't even want to be herself, but that was too hard to explain to him. "You want me to forget about what you just did? Then give me some time off. I want a week. Starting tomorrow."
    "But this is the busy season!" There was no busy season. They both knew Roland was clutching at straws.
    "I guess I'll be telling HR about your mating elephants, then."
    "All right, all right. You can have a week off."
    "Good."
    When Claire closed the door, Roland was slumped dejectedly at his desk, his palm resting protectively on the sharp curves of the wooden elephant's butt. CUNQRT
    Claire ran down the back of one of 35th Avenue's undulating hills, fast enough that she could ignore the autumnal chill still lingering from the night before. Her speed was fueled partly by exhilaration and partly by fear. Only an hour ago, she had booked a flight to New York for the next day, Wednesday. She had half hoped that she might even be able to avoid spending the night, just stay long enough to take a bus from the airport to an auction house, and then bus right back to a waiting plane. That alone had seemed terrifying but possibly manageable. But the airline clerk on the other end had patiently explained that the new low fares required a Saturday night stay. And she had found herself saying yes.
    So now Claire was going to New York, a place she knew only from movies and books. It wasn't just the run that was making her heart pound and her palms sweat.
    When Claire had proposed the idea last night, Charlie had encouraged her, digging out guidebooks and making lists of things to pack, visit and bring home. But she had not done the one thing that Claire had secretly hoped for—offered to come with her. Charlie loved New York and visited there every few years. But she had just won a part in a Mittleman Jewish Community Center musical, and she could not miss nearly a week's worth of rehearsals.
    After she had made her plane reservation, Claire had been excited, thinking that in only a matter of hours she would be doing those things she had read about—studying the exhibits of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, walking through the holding rooms at Ellis Island, applauding a Broadway musical. But now she was frightened by her own daring. She had never been farther east than the Idaho border. By tomorrow night she would be in a city of seven million people, many of them, according to the TV shows she liked, intent on either conning or killing her.
    As she approached the crest of Capitol, she concentrated on keeping her fists pumping. The trick to taking a hill was to forget about the legs and keep the arms pistoning. For two blocks she was helped by another runner who swung in ahead of her, a tall man who landed on the outside edges of his shoes and barely skimmed his feet along the ground. Claire matched him step for step, mimicking both his pronation and his efficient strides.
    Once over the top of the hill, Claire began to lengthen her stride. She imagined herself walking briskly down Fifth Avenue, looking right at home in the crowds. With her legs scissoring past each other and the sweetly rotten smell of the wizened roadside blackberries in her nose, she felt fully alive. Maybe she would be okay in New York. People went there all the time. She was an adult, she was strong, she would have Charlie's advice to fall back on. With a surge of energy, she ran faster.
    Claire made it to her mom's in record time. Standing outside her apartment, Claire could hear