“If Seraphine was uncomfortable with her work setting, she would tell me.”
“No, she wouldn’t,” Harrison growls. “She doesn’t know how to speak up for herself.”
I frown, my stomach turning sour.
“Seraphine speaks for herself just fine, Harrison.”
“It’s obvious you know nothing about her, which makes this all the more fucked up.”
“How about you just tell me what the issue is,” Elliot says.
“The issue is you working so closely with my ex and not finding it strange. You’re weird with her, and this whole situation is creepy.”
It’s silent for a long moment before Elliot says, “As I said before, if she had an issue, she would tell me.”
“I’mtelling you,” Harrison growls.
“You have no right to speak for her. And quite frankly, the way you are speaking for her is degrading.”
Well, if I needed any reason not to talk with Harrison, this is it. Not that I’d mention I overheard them speaking, but at least this is fuel to keep ignoring him. Except right now, it seems. Because I find myself knocking on the door and just as quickly pushing it open.
Elliot looks over at me from behind the desk. Harrison turns to face me, his frown disappearing when he sees it’s me. They’re both standing, both stiff.
“Hey, you found him,” I say to Harrison, forcing a smile and feigning confidence I don’t have. But something about having Elliot here, knowing he’d stick up for me, makes this much easier. It’s amazing what you can accomplish with a little support…
“I finished up early,” Elliot explains.
“Oh, good,” I say.
I put my things into the closet before turning back to the men, running my hands down my shirt to straighten out any wrinkles.
Harrison scoffs, moving toward me and speaking low. “Make sure you answer your phone when I call you later.” And then he leaves without another word.
I stare after him, feeling Elliot watching me, until I turn to face him. His face is a blank canvas. I can’t tell what he’s thinking or how he feels about the entire thing, but something tells me he knows I heard their conversation. At least, some of it. Who knows what I missed out on.
“Did you have a good lunch?” he asks.
“It was okay.”
“Where did you go?”
“The little Italian place two blocks down,” I say calmly.
“Not the best, but decent.”
“Have you eaten?” I ask.
“Not yet.”
“I can get you something,” I offer.
“That’s all right, I’m not very hungry.”
I nod, then take the seat in front of his desk. “What does our afternoon look like?”
Elliot hesitates, eyes still on me, before taking his seat and opening up his laptop.
“I’ll share my calendar with you.”
