AT ONE-THIRTY-SEVEN, Trixie walked back into her office and immediately frowned when she saw her desk wasn’t exactly as she’d left it. She picked up the post-it, scanned it, and paled.
There’s been a development. Come see me. – Drew
“Crap,” she muttered. “So much for steering clear.”
She took a breath or two to steady herself, then grabbed a notepad and pen and headed for the elevator.
Andrea beamed at Trixie when she stepped out into the top floor reception area.
“Go on back, he’s waiting for you,” she said.
“Thanks,” Trixie replied, trying to keep both her tone and expression neutral.
She walked slowly toward his open doorway, then rapped lightly on the frame.
“Miss Benning, come in,” he said as he moved to meet her. “Have a seat.”
“I got your note. What’s going on?” she asked,
