Salome’s POV
“Is that for me, or is it just a decoration?”
Jeremiah didn’t look up from his desk. He didn't even blink as he flipped through a thick stack of folders. I stood there for a second, holding the coffee mug like a peace offering that had been rejected before it even hit the table. I set it down near his elbow with a sharp click. When he still didn't say anything, I took it as my cue to disappear. I turned around and headed for the door, ready to get back to the safety of my own space.
“Wait.”
His voice stopped me mid-step. I turned back, expecting a critique on the roast or maybe a real thank you. Instead, Jeremiah just sat there, watching me. He didn’t use his words. He just lifted a hand and tapped his left cheek twice.
I stared at him, my brain stalling. Was he serious?
