By Monday, Carrie buried herself in work, determined to scrub the weekend's conversations and the memory of Andrew's grin from her mind. Meetings stacked one after another, layouts for the next issue of Echelon sprawled across her desk, and Sofia hovering nearby with her ever-present clipboard. Routine. Safe. Familiar.
Until the courier arrived.
"Ma'am," Sofia said, stepping into her office with a basket of white orchids tied with an elegant satin ribbon. Balanced on top was a glossy boutique bag. The kind that whispered expensive. The kind that could only mean trouble.
Carrie frowned. "Who's it from?"
Sofia checked the card, hesitated, then looked up nervously. "Andrew Lorenzo."
The name hit Carrie like a spark to dry wood. Her pulse spiked. Her hands, steady from years of training,
