The next morning, I woke up to the soft rustling of sheets and the faint smell of coffee. I blinked a few times, disoriented, before the events of the previous night came rushing back. The squirrel, the panic, the awkwardness… all of it.
I turned my head to see Mr. Hale standing by the table, pouring himself a cup of coffee from the tray that must have been delivered while I was still asleep. He was already dressed in a crisp shirt and dark slacks, looking every bit the composed businessman he always was. It was almost hard to believe this was the same guy who had freaked out over a tiny animal less than twelve hours ago.
“Morning,” I mumbled, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from my eyes.
He glanced over at me, his expression unreadable as usual. “You slept in.”
I frowned, glancin
