Zander
I was halfway through reviewing next quarter’s financial projections when Sarah knocked once on my office door before stepping inside.
She had worked for me long enough that I could read her expressions before she ever spoke. This wasn’t her “your three o’clock is here” face or her “you forgot to sign another contract” face.
This was something else.
“What happened?” I asked, setting my pen down.
Sarah closed the door behind her.
“I think you need to see this.”
She crossed the office and laid a navy presentation folder on my desk.
The moment I saw Gina’s name neatly printed across the front, my stomach tightened.
“What is this?”
“I found it in the shredding bin outside the small conference rooms.”
“The shredding bin?”
“I don’t think Gina wanted anyone else to see it.”
I
