The office was quiet, save for the sound of the air-conditioner humming. I was hunched over, reading a clause in an agreement Pierce Stock has sent to me.
My head throbbed from too much thinking, too much staring at tiny words, but I ignored the headache, like I did with most distractions.
Just then, a knock sounded on the door, breaking my concentration.
“Come in,” I said, irritated at the disturbance but not looking up from my papers either. By this time, it was either Mrs Levaughn or Brandon coming into my office.
So I focused on the contract, going over a clause about intellectual property rights, waiting for the familiar click of heels approaching.
But I heard nothing. I looked up to find none other than Kiara, standing at the doorway, a tray in her hands. Her sapphire blue dr
