Ethan snorted as he stood. “Yeah,” he said, hand on the door, eyes full of smug understanding. “A girl like that calling you Sir. Definitely not your type.”
The door clicked shut behind him, and for a long moment, I didn’t move.
Because he was right.
And that was the problem.
How many sessions would it take to get her out of my system? Before I didn’t think of her bent over my desk with my handprint on her ass.
Chapter 11
Mira
Islammed the folder down on my desk. Mr. Reid was infuriating. I wasn't a fucking accountant. My job was to chase codes, not cash flow. I'd busted my ass off this week and not so much as a single thank you.
The elevator dinged, pulling my attention up. I wasn’t used to hearing it so clearly. My old cubicle a few floors down had been tucked into the back corner of the analyst wing—about as far from the elevators as possible. Up here, I could see the main one from my desk, and the private executive elevator was just across the hall on the other side of the conference room.
After the reassignment, Mr. Reid had given me access to that private elevator. I’d wanted to refuse, but the whispers in the main lobby had made the privacy an unexpected relief.
The company-wide email said I’d been assigned to a “special project.” Stan’s version—that I’d been demoted to assistant—spread faster. Those who knew better stayed quiet. Everyone else just stared.
Micah stepped out of the main elevator, turned my direction, and smiled when he saw me, like he always did. He crossed the room and set an iced tea from my favorite place on the desk.
I snagged it without hesitation, the chill of black tea and vanilla-strawberry easing something in me. “You didn’t have to.”
“I didn’t.” He leaned casually against the edge of my desk. “The delivery girl mentioned your name. Figured I’d save her a trip.”
I studied the cup. “This is the third one this week.”
“That you’ve ordered from your favorite cart?”
I shook my head. “No. Third one I didn’t order—and someone already paid for it.”
He shrugged. “Lucky you.”
I scoffed. “Yeah. Lucky me.”
“Ms. Rhodes?”
I looked up to find Maggie, Mr. Cross and Mr. Hale’s administrative secretary, smiling politely. I raised a hand toward Micah to pause him.
“Morning, Maggie. How are the kids?”
Her whole face brightened. “Great! Weekend full of sports coming up. I swear I come to work just to rest.”
We laughed, and she handed me a small stack of pages. “Here’s Mr. Reid’s schedule. Nothing major today—just a late lunch with an investor.” She tapped a few time slots.
“Thanks. I’ll keep the calendar open.”
She waved at Micah as she headed back down the hall. The CFO and CSO offices were down the hall, opposite Mr. Reid’s corner suite—Cross to the right, Hale to the left.
Micah chuckled. “She’s helpful.”
“I’d be lost without her. I just get the day-by-day rundown so I’m not blindsided.”
He grinned. “So… how’s the special assignment going?”
I groaned. “Can’t talk about it.”
