ELOISE
The moment Rafael steps into the room behind me, the entire energy changes. The executives instantly stiffen in their leather chairs. Their eyes dart to the dark, tattoos creeping up his neck and disappearing under his collar, then shift nervously to Marco, who takes his post right by the door like a silent, lethal statue.
Rafael stands directly behind me, and I force myself to stand perfectly straight at the foot of the table. I hold my big forehead high, my tight green pencil skirt straining tightly against my full thighs as I place my leather folder flat on the polished wood. I keep my arms close to my body, maintaining that strict, reserved contract boundary between us.
For a second, the older executives do what they always do. They look right past me, their eyes sliding to R
