Every word I’d prepared, every ounce of courage I’d gathered, dissolves.
Patrick McLaren fills the doorway.
The entire room shifts like someone’s announced a fire drill. Dave from tech support drops his phone like it burned him. Craig’s entire body goes rigid.
And me?
I’ve transcended normal panic into something new. Something beyond sweaty palms and wobbly knees.
Please be in the wrong room. Please have wandered in by accident. Please leave.
But no. The most intimidating man in the company—quite possibly the entire British Isles—just leans against the doorframe.
“Please continue,” he says, and that Yorkshire accent makes it worse, with understated authority that suggests you’d better bloody well continue. “Don’t let me interrupt.”
What the fuck is he doing here? Don’t let him interrupt? He’s six-foot-something of intimidation in a bespoke suit. His mere presence is an interruption.
Craig springs up so fast his chair nearly topples backward. “Patrick! Did you need something? I can absolutely step out if—”
“It’s fine,” Patrick says dismissively. “Jenny mentioned an IRIS presentation. Thought I’d sit in since I’ve got ten minutes.”
My stomach plummets. I cannot—will not—speak in front of him. I can barely exist in the same building as him, let alone deliver a coherent presentation about the system I’ve been pouring my soul into.
“No!”
The word erupts from my mouth before my brain can wrestle it back down my throat.
To him. Patrick McLaren. The CEO.
Those blue eyes lock onto mine. One eyebrow rises slowly, and his mouth flattens into something decidedly unfriendly. “No?”
“I mean—” My words trip over each other. “These are just low-level details. Tedious tech stuff. Nothing that would interest someone at your—at your level—”
I shift my weight from heel to heel. Proper etiquette would be to usher him to the front row with a curtsy. Instead, I’ve basically told the CEO to fuck off.
But I can’t help it. I won’t survive this. Not with him watching.
“Patrick, please—” Craig stammers.
“I think,” Patrick cuts in. “I can handle the tedious technical details of the company I happen to own.” His eyes remain locked on mine. “But thanks for your concern.”
Oh my god. He’s furious.
He’s the man whose whims turn into fifty layers of fallout that eventually reach me as midnight Slack messages from Craig.
“Of course,” Craig says, but his smile is strained. “Honored to have you sit in.”
Neither of us wants him here. First thing Craig and I have ever agreed on.
“That alright with you, Georgie?” Patrick’s gaze finds me again.
Now the entire room is thinking, How the hell does the CEO know her name?
“Th-th-that’s… fantastic!” I squeak.
“Carry on then.” He crosses his arms and leans against the doorframe, not even bothering to sit like a normal person.
This isn’t fair.
