My eyes stay open for the next five minutes as I listen out for any suspicious sounds.
There are none.
Slowly, I put off the lamp and tuck myself in again. This time, sleep doesn’t come easily.
I’m working late on a Tuesday night.
It’s not because of the trouble I had sleeping the previous night or anything. I’ve since concluded that the noise at the window came from the tree branch and the wind, plus my overactive imagination.
I’m not scared of going home and being alone there.
Julia left two hours ago and since then, the office has grown quieter. I should leave too. I’ve already fixed the calendar five days ahead and cleaned up Chance’s notes. There’s nothing left to do.
Inhale, exhale. I can do this.
Nothing can hurt you, Maddie.
With that thought locked in place, I pack up my purse and head out. I’m walking past Chance’s office when I spy a light coming through the door.
Frowning, I head toward it. Did he forget to turn off the switch when he left?
I always leave before him so I don’t know what happens after.
I pause by the door, then push it open.
Chance is behind his desk, eyes glued on a document he’s holding before him. “Just an hour more, Freddy.”
That’s the night guard.
“It isn’t Freddy.”
Chance’s face comes up. “Oh.” His gaze sweeps over me. “What are you doing here?”
“I was heading home when I saw the light on in your office. I assumed you forgot to turn it off.”
He smirks. “I don’t. Why haven’t you gone home?”
He already has men protecting me. I don’t need him to get worried about every creak and rattle that startles me. Plus, it wasnothing.
“Just working.” I shrug. “What are you doing?”
“Working, too.”
“On what at this time of the night?” I glance at my watch. “Eight-thirty!”
“I could ask you the same.”
I eye him, inching into his office. The door clips shut behind me as I draw close to his desk.
I don’t miss the way his eyes follow my movements. Watching, assessing. Almost like a predator onto a prey.
And why does that thought leave a delicious tingle down my spine?
I stop before his desk and focus on the papers covering the expansive surface. “What are these?”
“Progress reports dating back many years.”
“’20s?” I frown at the brown piece of paper. “Why would you need this?”
