CHAPTER NINETEEN
“Is Marcus coming today?” Eleanor asked, sanding down the edge of the window frame with a little more force than necessary. She didn’t look up—just tossed the question out casually, like she was asking about the weather.
Mr. Landon glanced up from his clipboard, frowning slightly. “Mr. Green? No. He’s in meetings downtown all day. Why?”
Eleanor shrugged, reaching for a finer grit paper. “No reason.”
“Right,” Mr. Landon muttered, clearly unconvinced.
She turned back to the wood, pretending the knot in her stomach was just the heat. Her fingers moved with practiced precision, but her thoughts weren’t on the job.
It was stupid, really. She told herself she hated him—loathed him, even. Marcus Green was a smug, domineering, condescending tower of entitlement. And yet…
Sh
