TWENTY-TWO
Max had thought that her sparkle was gone. But it wasn’t gone at all. He was watching her, and she was more vibrant than she’d been in weeks. The sparkle wasn’t gone; it just wasn’t for him anymore.
Inside the lobby of the Stretton f*****g Chemicals building that had become the bane of his goddamn life, he was looking through the glass front to the coffee cart on the curb outside.
He hadn’t meant to spy; he wasn’t some creepy f*****g perv. All he’d wanted was some coffee and a minute of f*****g peace without projections and potential ROIs being thrown in his face.
All the work was bullshit. In the first weeks, he’d wanted to jack it in every second. Hoping he was making her proud was the only thing that kept him from telling Teddy to go f**k himself or putting one of Stretto
