I stood there, stunned. My favourite cup suddenly felt like a hot coal in my hand. This—this was classic Eric, wasn’t it? He couldn’t lose. He couldn’t back down. And when the stakes were high, he played dirty. As long as he rose above in the end,
The carefully laid desserts, the coffee, the damn cup—they were all off-limits now. The whole room was tainted, and poisoned, and my appetite was long gone.
But then, another thought crept in. What if Giselle was lying? She’d hated me from the moment I’d walked into this company and resented me for my relationship with Eric. What if this was all part of some plan to alienate me, payback to make me mistrust everyone here?
I looked at the cup again, doubt mixed with disgust. Could I really trust anything—or anyone—in this office?
Probably not.
