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She doesn’t seem to have talked with Raquel, and I’m glad the inner-office gossip mill isn’t running. That’s the last thing I need right now.
I’ve just finished sorting through a million emails from yesterday when I hear the tap on my door. “Come in.”
It opens, and I spin in my chair expecting to see Taron. When I see who it is, my stomach tightens. I lean back, narrowing my eyes.
“Do you need something, Miss Morgan?” It’s not quite a snap, but close.
“I’m sorry to disturb you…” Raquel’s voice is soft and high compared to mine. “I wanted to stop by before anybody got here. Except Dean, of course. And Sandra—oh, and I didn’t want you to think I’d said anything to Sandra because I didn’t…”
She stops speaking and presses her lips together.
She’s rambling.
I study her a moment, quietly. She’s wearing a low-necked pink sweater and a matching cardigan with a fatigue-green skirt I’m sure shows off her legs.
My gaze remains above her waist, on her pale blue eyes, which are round and worried. “What is it with you and cardigans?”
It’s a low grumble, but her pale blue eyes widen. Her chin drops, and she fumble with her clothes… like she did in the elevator. Heat tries to rise below my belt, but I fight it.
“Well, anyway, I… uh, just wanted to see if you needed anything. For Madagascar… or anything.”
“You’re working with Taron on Abu Dhabi. See him when he gets here.” I return to my computer screen, done talking.
She doesn’t leave, and I start to get irritated.
Her throat clears. “About Sunday night—” My eyes cut up to her, and she stops abruptly.
“We’ve said all we need to about that.” My tone is final.
She blinks down and nods. “Okay. Sorry.” I watch as she pushes a lock of soft brown hair behind her ear then turns and goes to the door. It closes behind her with a quiet click, but the scent of coconut and ginger lingers in my office.
I’m about to go for coffee when Sandra buzzes me. “Taron just got here.”
It’s not what I asked her to do, and I feel my anger rising. “And Marley?”
“Not yet. Sorry, boss.”
If one more person says sorry to me.
Continuing to my door, I snatch it open and stride down the corridor to Taron’s office. On the way, I notice Raquel in her glass box sorting through files. Jerry is standing near her grinning like a Cheshire cat, and she seems uncomfortable.
Rumors from Saturday flicker through my mind, and my fists clench.
Knocking as I open Taron’s door, I hesitate when I see him with one hand pressed against the wall. “You okay?”
“Don’t bother knocking. Just come on in.” It’s pure sarcasm. No joke.
“How close do you think we are on this Hastings and Key deal?”
He glances up at me, and his green eyes are pained. “If Abu Dhabi comes in, Remi said they’ll do it.”
“How close are you on that?”
“Should have it in the bag today. We’re doing a little meet and greet this evening.”
“Will you be able to make it?”
“Raquel’s helping me.”
