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“Okay, yeah, I can manage that,” she agrees. “I’ll pull everything together in time for the presentation.”
“Good girl.” I watch her for another long moment as she blushes, fighting the warring instincts in my blood.
Then, against my better judgment, I let the hammer fall.
“One more question. Will you come by my place tonight after the presentation? We need to talk strategy.”
14
A Little Sign (Destiny)
The only thing that gets me through the day is the thought that I’ll see Shepherd tonight.
The whispers suck, sure, but what’s behind them feels infinitely worse.
When I walk through the office, all eyes are glued to my back.
At first, it’s pretty openly. But after Hannah’s short, sweet email threatens disciplinary action against anyone who talks about other Home Shepherd personnel, they shift to more subtle disgust.
I can’t hear the rumors, of course, but I know they’re flying.
I’mher.
The cutthroat slut who slept with Shepherd Foster to get ahead.
At least I must’ve been good to land a small fortune in charity money and a trek through nature with the bossman personally.
No email—no matter how stern or official—will wipe the slate.
And thanks to that message, everyone in the office who might not have heard the news certainly knows now.
The only question is how many people believe it.
Knowing my luck, everyone.
And whether they believe it or not, no one resists speculating.
When everyone on my team gets called into the nine-thirty meeting, I head into the kitchen to grab a coffee before it starts. Most of the chairs are empty, and I take advantage of the relative silence to eat lunch early.
Turns out, misery makes you crave carbs, and I think I’ll eat the entire pound of this pasta salad I brought.
“Destiny, hi,” a woman says from behind me.
I jump.
She’s a short, neat woman with auburn hair. “I’m Rebecca from HR. Hannah Cho told me to introduce myself.”
“Oh,” I manage. I haven’t cried since last night, but my eyes are hot and itchy. I shake her hand. “Thanks. Good to meet you.”
“If you hear anything, don’t be shy. Speak up, and I’ll make sure it’s dealt with.”
Her smile oozes so much sympathy, but I’m not sure how it makes me feel.
A little like the kid who has the hall monitor protecting them at recess, I guess.
“Sure,” I force out.
“Everyone knows you’re working hard on your presentation and you don’t need distractions. That’s the same courtesy everyone deserves at Home Shepherd.” She gives me a sharp nod. Her hair is tied up in a tight, professional bun.
