★Nathan★
By the time Friday came around, I was running on caffeine and irritation. The project had already taken over every spare minute of my week, and Cassandra’s ability to get under my skin was starting to feel like a full-time job on its own. It wasn’t that she was rude. She was polite. Professional. Civil, even. But everything she said came wrapped in that same careful tone: controlled, deliberate, and measured. She gave nothing away. I had worked with difficult people before, but Cassandra Lionel was not difficult. She was distant. Detached. And that was worse. By the end of the day, I needed a drink, so I texted Timothy.
✉Nathan: Meet you at the bar?
His response was immediate.
✉Timothy: Already two drinks ahead of you.
I smirked at the screen and grabbed my jacket. The drive
