It was getting hectic-more hectic than I ever imagined possible. Double shifts, double headaches, double the impossible men in my life. At first, there was Mr. Darcie, with his maddening obsession for control. Every file had to be perfect, every word in place, every breath measured in sync with his ridiculous expectations. His insufferable behavior was a constant, buzzing in my ear like a fly I couldn't swat away. It took every ounce of patience I had to keep from snapping at him, to smile through gritted teeth and act like his micromanaging didn't grind on my last nerve. But I'd gotten used to it. Somehow. I had learned to bear Mr. Darcie's need for order, learned to maneuver around his incessant demands like a ship avoiding rocks in treacherous waters. I could survive Darcie.
But surviv
