CHAPTER FIVE
“Did you really have to give him the finger?” Cooper Rich asked, leaning back in his chair, watching her as she piled a few meager personal items into a banker’s box—her potted succulent, a photograph from her graduation from Basic Training, her desk calendar.
She was silent, thinking about what else she needed to bring with her.
“Not even just one middle finger.” He shook his head. “Two. Geez.”
Already feeling the shame creeping in, she said quietly, “You saw that, huh?”
He chuckled humorlessly, “The whole floor saw that.”
She looked around. Sure enough, though no one was staring directly at her, they were all tilted toward her, as if waiting to see what train-wreck she’d get herself into, next.
She pulled out a fresh box of paperclips—ha, she’d steal those, and her st
