After slogging through the morning, Alicia was completely wiped out by afternoon. Used to lounging at home or shopping, she'd never done real work before. Now every muscle screamed in protest as she collapsed onto Carlos' office desk, utterly spent.
The man himself was absent—she'd only ducked in here to escape. Wynola had been glaring at her like a jealous rival, while other employees whispered behind her back. Carlos' warning echoed in her mind: she really should've considered her position more carefully.
She'd barely slumped onto the sofa when the door burst open, startling her so badly she shot upright like a spring.
Carlos loomed in the doorway, his face a mask of indifference. Clutching a pillow to her chest, Alicia fixed him with a wounded pout, lips pursed in defiance.
He strod
