I watched the condensed liquid from the glass drip down his thighs.
He looked drunk as hell.
Savannah cleared her throat before unenthusiastically beginning the story.
“I was two weeks into my new job, already exhausted, already rethinking every life decision that led me to corporate finance. I walked into a staff meeting late and grabbed the only empty chair left. It was right next to Roman Blackwood.
We hadn’t met yet. But he was that guy—the sharp-dressed, always calm one who everyone said had a scary IQ and ‘the emotional availability of a dead battery.’
And nervous me? I accidentally grabbed his pen and nervously chewed on the cap during a presentation.
When Roman finally leaned in and whispered, ‘That pen costs more than your rent,’
I told him it now tastes like fear and sh
