Lana’s POV
The following day, I walked into the company with my bag slung over my shoulder, bracing for the usual storm. Strangely enough, no thunder came. Mr. Gerald, who always patrolled the foyer like a hawk, spotted me the second I stepped through the glass doors. Instead of barking his trademark reprimand, his lips pressed into a thin line, and he looked away.
My steps faltered. That’s odd.
If I had been just five minutes late, he would have been mounted at the entrance, arms crossed, ready to scold me until my ears burned. Yesterday, I hadn’t even shown up. Yet here I was, gliding through untouched. The realization clicked – Damon. Since he has called the office, he must have given some ironclad reason that even Gerald couldn’t argue with. The thought both warmed me and made me n
