RORY
My heart hasn't stopped its racing pace by the time I step out of the elevator into one of the floors the company uses—the floor my boss' office is on.
The walk to her office is done on auto-pilot, and when I get there, I knock on the door once and wait, trying my hardest not to shift from foot to foot like a nervous teenager. I feel like I'm about to be given detention.
Her "come in" is loud and toneless. Just like the song my thoughts are creating right now.
"Rory," she says in that same neutral tone when I enter the office. "Please have a seat."
That's when I realise that she's not alone.
There are two chairs in front of the huge mahogany table opposite her chair and one of them is occupied by a beautiful woman that works on the same floor as me. Right next to me, actually
