Eleanor
By the time the last of the donuts were taken and the coffee cups were reduced to just two, I realized there was still a bit of quiet tension lingering in the air.
That was so much expected, considering the tactics Nathan had just played.
The hallway had slowly gone back to its usual rhythm of ringing phones, murmured conversations, and the soft clicking of heels every here and there, but I could still feel the sideways glances.
I could tell without having to look up at them that they were curious, calculating even.
And I knew why.
Nathan West, oh that man with his perfect hair and his smug, knowing smirk, had cracked the shell I had so carefully tried to glue back together with coffee and pastries. I hadn’t asked for his help. I hadn’t needed his help. But somehow, his vo
