POV: Maya
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The Hale Enterprises lobby looked like Satan’s waiting room. All black marble, chrome, and icy silence. People in suits and gowns looking like newly printed money and covering the fact that they were blood thirsty sharks. My new heels clicked loudly on the floor, echoing like gunshots.
Don’t trip. Don’t trip. For the love of god, Maya, do NOT faceplant in front of Finance.
Nicholas walked beside me, radiating CEO energy like a furnace. His hand rested lightly on the small of my back. A possessive gesture for the cameras? A reminder to keep up? Or maybe he just knew my legs were about to buckle.
"Breathe," he murmured, not looking at me.
"I am breathing," I hissed back. "I’m just doing it very quietly so I don’t disturb the sacred silence of capitalism."
A m
