DAMIEN
.
.
She reached the door as she opened it, and disappeared, closing the door behind her with a soft click.
Leaving me in the room with my team, with the salvaged presentation.
Mrs Eleanor apologized as she continued the presentation, her voice steady, professional.
Harris was listening intently as the business was proceeding. But my mind was already elsewhere.
With her.
The meeting was already over at this moment as I turned from the investors. Addressed Eleanor, who was great at what she did.
“Her office.”
“Mr. Alvaro?”
“Her office,” I repeated, my voice colder now, brooking no argument. “Leila Jones. Where is it?”
Eleanor hesitated for a fraction of a second, then, seeing the look in my eyes, she nodded. “Just down the hall, Sir. Third door on the left.”
“Thank
