I only barely manage to withhold a look of pure<em>'I told you so'</em>from the receptionist when she announces Henry will be right out. There's just something in the way she is looking at me that overrides the inclination. I make a mental note to bring her some flowers for her desk once everything settles down, and step back a respectful distance.  The last thing I want to do is be caught<em>sitting</em>when Henry comes out.  It's bad enough I am now late, today of all days - I don't want to look like I'm casually lounging about as well when our competitor is making major waves.<br/><br/>Henry doesn't keep me waiting long,  but before he even says a word I can tell something is very wrong.  He's smiling, which seems innocent enough, but the introduction and offered handshake is completely<em>off</em>considering how closely we've been working for the last few months. Even worse, he seems even more off kilter than I am.  I can't imagine why he'd react that way unless there was something really troubling going on...<br/><br/>The invitation to talk cements it all in my mind.  The weird premonition this morning, my building access revoked, and now a 'talk' with the CEO? That's it.  I'm going to be fired.  I just know it.  Immediately I feel my heart rate spike and the palm of my hand go clammy in Henry's.  I can't believe this is happening.  There's a very good chance I might faint, actually.<br/><br/>As much as a part of me wants to just get in there and face my fate, I need a few minutes to compose myself.  The last impression I want to leave is one of teary-eyed defeat.<br/><br/>I'm sure I can excuse myself to pop into the ladies room for a minute (or ten) before meeting the CEO in his office.<br/><br/><hr/><br/>Choice:<br/><br/>C.  Make an excuse to get five minutes to yourself before deciding what to do next.