ZOE
The office elevator had never been my favorite place. Too many people, too many looks, too many office worries mixed with coffee. That morning, my feet were still sore from blisters, and my heels were in penitence in my handbag. I had worn sneakers to walk for almost three hours to get there, and the elevator became the stage of my sentence.
Just as I ran towards the doors before they closed, I collided head-on with a hard chest, wrapped in soft, fine fabric, and with a perfume that had haunted me in my most vivid dreams.
"Oh, come on," I murmured, bringing my hand to my forehead.
I looked down and saw the black suit, the impeccable tie, and those damn shoes that shone like mirrors.
Nikolai Foster, my wicked boss, was like the guardian of my misfortunes.
"Miss Morel." His deep vo
