Bridgette
I was supposed to have the day off. After weeks of constant work and striking deals, I was supposed to have a whole day off, a whole frigging twenty-four hours to lie in my bed if I liked, eating and drinking until it was time for my date–mixer.
That was the one thing I was holding onto as I dragged myself out of bed for my shirt workout—until a call from the office shattered that dream.
Apparently, someone had made a mistake in a signed contract, and because I was the one who handled the original file, I had to come in and fix it.
Just great. Just what I needed on the one day I wanted not to think about work.
Of course, Rhysand had to make it worse.
He sat at his desk like Karma waiting for souls to torture, legs crossed, lips curved into a smug smirk, I once thought was c
