The heavy wooden gavel fell with a dull, echoing thud against the mahogany sounding block, signaling the official start of the acquisition vote. The senior director began reading the legal parameters of the Vance-King merger, his voice a drone of corporate jargon that bounced off the soundproofed walls.
The meeting begins, but Elena struggles to concentrate.
My fingers hovered over the screen of my briefing tablet, entirely frozen. The digital text blurred into a meaningless wash of white light. My chest heaved in shallow, frantic breaths beneath my cream blouse, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird. Every time I tried to index a tax compliance metric, my eyes were drawn like a magnet across the expanse of the dark wood table.
Her father keeps stealing glances at her.
