Gina
Three days after Victor Reynolds was arrested, I stood outside the merchandising conference room at Preston Enterprises and wondered if throwing up on the expensive carpet would automatically disqualify me.
Probably.
Then again, after everything that had happened around here lately, vomit might not even crack the top ten strangest things this building had seen.
“You can do this,” I whispered.
My phone buzzed.
Zander: You can do this.
I stared at the message.
“That’s creepy.”
Another appeared.
Zander: And no, I’m not watching the cameras.
My eyes narrowed.
Me: I didn’t ask.
The typing bubbles appeared.
Zander: I know you.
I smiled despite myself and slipped the phone into my purse.
This morning, Zander had tried very hard to act like he wasn’t nervous for me. He failed
