PENELOPE
Lucas’ office still smelled the same—faint hints of espresso, and the ever-present scent of old books stacked neatly behind him.
He sat behind his desk, flipping through a file, dressed in a crisp navy-blue suit. He had always dressed like a businessman, but something about today felt off. Maybe it was the fact that he wasn’t wearing a tie, or that his shirt sleeves were slightly rolled up, as if he had been too tired to maintain his usual pristine look.
I leaned against the desk, arms crossed. “You called me in for a meeting, yet I’m the one waiting.”
He glanced up, a smirk tugging at his lips. “I was finishing up something important.” He closed the file and leaned back in his chair looking at me. “Unlike you, who’s been busy… buying cars.”
My eyes narrowed. “And?”
“And not
