Eleanor
I had been sitting at my desk for the better part of the morning, sorting through a stack of briefs that felt heavier than usual… well, maybe because they were a lot today, even though they were standard… monotonous, even.
But my focus was slipping more than I liked to admit, my fingers flipping pages I wasn’t actually reading, my eyes scanning words I wasn’t even processing.
Okay, maybe I was reading and processing just a tiny number of the words, but that wouldn't really do much, considering I was supposed to be sorting through them.
And the truth was… I hadn’t seen Nathan since that night in the kitchen. I wasn't even playing right now, and if I didn't know any better, I would think that he was avoiding me. Usually, when something like this happens in those k****e books I
