Amelia hadn't made it two steps toward the lounge before the boardroom door cracked open again and Ethan came out, cheekbone coloring, tie still missing, eyes sharp with a new kind of anger.
“Wait," he said, voice low and hard. “We're not finished."
Isaac, who had paused two doors down exactly as promised, turned. He didn't step away from Amelia.
Ethan pointed at Isaac. “Who are you to her."
“Ethan—" Amelia began.
“No," he snapped, never looking away from Isaac. “What are you to her."
Isaac's face stayed calm, almost bored, the way a pilot sounds in turbulence. “At work," he said, “I'm her superior."
Ethan's mouth opened for a retort.
Isaac didn't give him time. “Outside the office," he added, looking straight at him, “I'm her boyfriend."
The corridor inhaled.
Amelia blinked, the
