Heptadecagon

I sat with Dottie at the round table, listening to her justification of why Janie should have the job. "She's a whiz," Dottie said. "Just brilliant, really. Janie's just..." I turned my ears off for a moment and instead watched Dottie as her hands flew in the air and her eyes grew wide. A blush tinged her cheeks and she seemed to sparkle. And why? Because she was talking about Janie? What was that all about? "...it's amazing how much she notices things, and I think her ability to juggle tasks will be so fortuitous for us." Dottie sat back against her chair and folded her hands on the table top. No further words needed. That was that. Janie should have the job. I hadn't come to discuss Janie, though. I had come to Dottie's office to talk about a project we had in the works and to show her how much progress we'd made. I had spreadsheets and documents and tables and graphs. I held evidence in my hands that what we were doing--a...