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Michael and Paul were back at their desks, glancing over at Ethan as he sat down.

Paul leaned close, his voice hushed. “You thought Jake’s mood was bad today? Preston’s on a fucking tear, man.” Michael nodded in agreement, his mouth a thin line.

Ethan groaned, turning back to his computer, eyes fixed to the screen.

Not your problem, Ethan. Focus.

Despite his effort, the muffled conversation was loud enough, and Ethan was just close enough to catch pieces through the door.

Preston’s voice was hard to miss. You always heard him coming before you saw him—not even the walls could contain that booming voice.

Jake's and Preston’s voices rose and fell, fighting over one another. One minute, it sounded like they were whispering, but the next, it grew into a flurry of bellows.

Joyce caught Ethan's gaze, her brows raised as she mouthed, “What's going on?”

Ethan shrugged, turning back to his work.

Not touching that one, he thought.

As much as Ethan tried to focus on getting the file finished, his ears perked as fragments of their conversation bled through the door.

“...handled it. I’ll email the details.” Preston’s voice was impatient as always.

“Again?” Jake sounded exhausted, which was saying something for a guy who was probably running on Coke and Starbucks. “Jesus, Preston, this can’t keep⁠—”

“...I’ve got Ward working on it now. Should be done by…”

Ethan gulped, trying to block it out.

Footsteps approached the door, and Ethan’s body straightened as the doorknob jiggled.

Preston’s voice came through even louder. “Get it done and don’t forget to have my calendar fixed for that night. Don't fuck it up, McKinney.”

The door ripped open, and Preston walked out. Ethan’s body stiffened, his gaze moving behind Preston to Jake, who appeared pale and rattled, a far cry from his usual smug composure.

“You,” Preston said, pointing at Ethan. “What’s your name?”

Shit.

Ethan’s throat tightened. He’d been here an entire year and had never actually spoken to Preston, nor had any desire to. Preston was constantly skulking around Jake, and Ethan had lost count of the many hushed conversations, drunken afternoons, and mornings he’d seen between the two of them during his time here.

Ethan always stayed as far away as possible from anything that had red flags, and those two were a goddamn parade. The last thing he wanted was attention on him. If it were up to him, he’d blend right into the crowd. Unfortunately, that wasn't an option at this moment.

“E-Ethan Ward,” he stammered, foot bouncing rapidly underneath his desk. “I’ve been here for⁠—”

“Great,” Preston said, his gravely voice cutting him off. “You’re working on the Graymore property, right?”

Ethan nodded. “Yes, sir.” He fought the cringey feeling creeping up his spine.

“Good shit. Get it done today.” He leaned down toward Ethan, his face red and coated with a sheen of sweat across his forehead. Ethan caught a whiff of expensive cologne and alcohol. “Not tomorrow. Got it, Ward?”

Ethan’s eyes caught on an ugly scab that split Preston's lower lip, and he fought back a grimace as he nodded. “Understood,” he said, his jaw clenched.

The tension in Preston’s face loosened, and a slimy smirk spread across his face. “Thanks, Kid.”

Kid? He couldn’t be more than a few years older than me.

Without a word said to anyone, Preston left the room, sucking all the air out of the room with him as he closed the door behind him.