Page 82 of His Good Girl

Benjamin materialized beside me.

I jumped. “Do you teleport?”

“Only when disappointed.” His eyes moved to the torn paper. “Aggressive notetaking.”

“The cartoon padlock pushed me too far.”

“It does that.”

“Has anyone ever died during onboarding?”

“Several people have left us spiritually, but HR refuses to count them.”

I leaned back in my chair and rubbed my eyes. “How many more modules?”

“Today? Two.”

I lowered my hands. “That’s a hate crime.”

“That is a phrase best not used during workplace conduct training.”

“I’m being slowly made less intelligent.”

“You are being made employable.”

“I was employable yesterday.”

“You were employable-adjacent yesterday. Today we are adding policy awareness and password hygiene.”

I gave him a look. He gave one back. Then his tablet dinged, and his posture adjusted by half an inch.

“Mr. Rowe would like to see you at five-thirty.”

My pulse took one hard, stupid leap.

“Is it about training?” I asked.

“That depends.”

“On what?”

“Whether you’ve done something during training that requires Mr. Rowe’s attention.”

“I have passed every test.”

“Then perhaps he wants to congratulate you on meeting the educational standards of a suspiciously bright corporate monkey.”

“Ben.”

“He said five-thirty,” Benjamin repeated, and then his voice softened in a way so slight I might have imagined it. “Finish the modules first.”

“I was going to.”

“I know.” He hesitated, which was unusual enough to make me look at him properly. “And Avery?”

“Yes?”

“Remember that offices have walls, but walls have people near them.”