All the while, Carol's words kept replaying in my head... 'if he decides...'
Now I understand better.
The second report had barely begun — a junior analyst, presenting his department's quarterly activity summary — when Mr. Stark reached for something on his table.
His hand stilled.
From where I was standing, I saw the almost imperceptible pause that made me realize he had reached for something and found it in the wrong place.
His fingers rested on the item for one second before he adjusted, calmly, without making a production of it, and picked up what he needed.
Then he turned and looked at me.
No one noticed what was happening.
But God.
The look.
It wasn't anger. Anger would have been easier. Anger had heat and heat meant feeling and feeling meant somewhere inside it there was s
