Kelly's POV
By the time morning rolled around, I felt like I’d barely slept. My mind had replayed every moment from yesterday, including the accidental break-room run-in with Owen Donovan.
I still couldn't believe it. A Donovan. A smiling, barefoot Donovan with lightning-bolt socks. I kept telling myself it didn’t matter, that the conversation wasn’t a big deal, but my chest still tightened whenever I remembered it.
Still, I had a job to do, and today, that job was Michael’s presentation binder.
Claire sent me the instructions before I even arrived at my desk. Color-code the files, insert the financial breakdowns into the correct sections, print the graphs on premium paper, align the tabs and make sure none of the pages are bent at the corners.
“Presentation-worthy” was the phrase
