~Tiara
I stayed seated, watching Giovanni and Gerald talk about work. My fingers drummed on the armrest as I listened to their conversation, though I couldn’t care less about the specifics—profit margins, forecasts, and proposals. They could’ve been speaking a foreign language for all I cared.
What held my attention wasn’t the conversation but Gerald’s discomfort. He squirmed in his seat like he’d sat on a tack, stealing glances at me when he thought Giovanni wasn’t looking. I crossed my legs and leaned back, pretending not to notice while inwardly amused by his obvious unease.
Every time Gerald’s eyes darted toward me, he looked away just as quickly, like a guilty child caught sneaking candy. His hands fidgeted with his pen, tapping it against the folder in his lap.
And then Gio
