Nathan says in a low, strained voice, "Lola, we need to talk," as he enters my office and gently clicks the door shut.
I've been staring over paperwork that feel more like a maze than a strategy, and I look up from my desk. Since that night at Yemi's house when I noticed something strange in Nathan's eyes—something too cunning to ignore—tension between us has been growing for days. He stands in front of me as though nothing has changed, even though I've been doubting everything he's said and wondering about his intentions.
"What's happening, Nathan?" I inquire, sounding more worn out than I would want. He's always too cool and collected, so I've learned to be cautious around him. It's eerie.
Without waiting for an invitation, he looks over his shoulder and sits down opposite me. "Desmon
