The day had been quiet. Too quiet.
Sari hated quiet now. It was sterile, leaving her mind to race, replaying legal documents and every infuriating conversation until the edges of her sanity blurred. The waiting was killing her. Matthew Elizalde’s camp was still "reviewing" their settlement offer, corporate speak for, We’ll keep you sweating until we decide to end your misery.
At 9 p.m., she found herself in a half-lit BGC pharmacy, trying to buy tampons and pretending her entire professional life wasn't imploding. She reached for a box, trying to anchor her focus on the cotton absorbency level, when the air around her suddenly thickened.
She froze.
Matthew Elizalde.
Of course. The man was a cosmic error, a walking reminder that fate had a wicked sense of humor.
He was standing in the
