Anne's POV
Two weeks.
Fourteen days of walking on eggshells through a minefield disguised as a dream job. Fourteen days of early mornings and late nights, burying myself in spreadsheets and reports so deep that I didn't have to think about the way my pulse quickened every time the executive elevator chimed. Fourteen days of watching Justin Clark be the perfect, detached CEO.
He kept his word.
He never approached my desk. He never called me into his office for anything other than strictly professional meetings, always with at least one other person present. His emails were crisp, formal, and devoid of any subtext I could decipher. When we passed in hallways, he gave me the same curt, impersonal nod he gave every other junior staff member. It was flawless. It was torture.
Because beneat
