Instead, my mouth opens before my brain catches up.
“I had a headache,” I say, and I immediately regret how close that sounds to telling him anything real.
His gaze holds. “From the wine?” he says.
I stiffen. “You don’t know what I drank.”
“I can guess,” he replies. His tone stays even, but his eyes don’t.
I force myself to pick up the binder again, because I need something to do with my hands.
“Do you want the Q3 forecast?” I ask.
He pauses, then he nods. “Yes.”
I flip to the next section and start talking again. He listens, asks pointed questions, and I answer them without letting my voiceshake again. By the time we reach the end, my migraine is back in full force and my pulse is still wrong, but I’ve made it through.
I close the binder. “Anything else, sir?”
He watches me for a beat. “Come here.”
My stomach flips so hard it feels like I swallowed a stone, and I don’t move.
His eyes sharpen. “Lila.”
I take one step forward, then another, and I stop at the edge of his desk. He reaches for the sheet of paper I printed earlier, then he holds it out. He leans in slightly, and his voice drops.
“Don’t turn your phone off again.”
My throat tightens. “That’s not your call.”
His mouth lifts again, and now it’s definitely a smirk.
“It is when I want it to be,” he says, quiet.
My blood heats and my anger sparks, because he’s pushing, and he’s doing it because he can. I straighten. “If you want to discuss my phone habits, submit a request in writing.”
His eyebrows lift slightly, like he’s impressed, and I hate that I enjoy that.
“Go,” he says. The word is both dismissal and control.
I turn and walk out, and my legs feel steady even though I’m vibrating inside. I sit at my desk, pull up my calendar, and bury myself in work because it’s the only thing that keeps me from spiraling.
Sloane passes by again at noon, leaning on the edge of my desk like she owns the space.
“Busy morning?” she says.
“Mm hm,” I reply.
Her eyes flick to Ethan’s closed office door. “He called you in early.”
“Yes,” I say.
She smiles. “He’s particular about who he keeps close.”
I look up slowly. “I’m particular about who I waste time on.” I hold her gaze. “So if you have something you need, say it. If not, move along.”
Her smile tightens again. “Wow,” she says. “Touchy.”
