“Excuse me, Ms. Clem,” Mirabelle’s secretary said over the intercom, her voice shattering the silence Mirabelle had been lost in for god only knew how long. “There is a Mr. Dwayne Fowler here to see you. He has no appointment but insists that you will see him. Should I let him through?”
Mirabelle stared at the intercom on her desk as though it had transformed into a bomb, its timer accelerating down to zero at an alarming speed. It took her secretary calling her name a second time to break the spell. Mirabelle realized she had just been staring at the device and hadn’t given any form of response. But what the hell was she supposed to say?
Eyes now on the door, wishing she could see through it or that she had thought to install cameras she could monitor from her office, Mirabelle had to t
