What is he doing here?
He stepped off behind Mr. Lewis.
I waited for him to walk away, but he lingered near—as if he was daring us to address his presence.
Looking away, I refused to give him the satisfaction.
“I was looking for you, sir,” I said. “Your coffee is probably cold now.”
“That’s alright, Andrea.” He smiled. “I was, uh—I was looking for you, too. I was?—”
“You motherfuckin’ sellout!” A voice called from down the hall. “I swear, if I ever see you on the streets alone, I’ll beat you with your cane!”
His voice trailed off as security guards dragged him away.
“Like I was saying, Andrea.” Mr. Lewis lifted his coffee from my hand. “This big news is that as of today, Sweet Seasons belongs to someone else, and you have a new wonderful leader at the helm. And, well, here he is.”
He gestured to the suit, and I froze.
“Mr. Cross, this is Miss Andrea Stone,” he said. “The best right hand I’ve ever had.”
I was still frozen, processing his words.
“I wrote you a personal letter about this, with all the things I should’ve said earlier.” He pushed a small envelope under my arm. “Best-of-luck, love-you, gotta-go, bye!”
He rushed past me before I could say a single word.
The only thing I heard was the echo of his cane striking marble.
He sold the company without telling ME? Of all people…
I wracked my mind for clues, little moments I could’ve seen this coming, but there was nothing.
Just endless promises about making me an executive “before the end of the year.”
“It’s good to finally have a name.” The suit extended his hand to me, snapping me out of my thoughts. “I’m Harrison Cross.”
I didn’t want to shake his hand at all, but professionalism made me do it.
A jolt of heat rushed through my body, and I dropped his hand. The way he was looking at me told me he’d felt it, too.
“Since I’m your new boss, Miss Stone, would you like to tell me what makes you a ‘secret weapon,’ or will I have to figure that out myself?”
I didn’t answer him.
“Miss Stone?”
“It’s my off day.” I couldn’t think of anything serious to say. “I don’t talk to work people on my off days…”
“Yourwhatday?”
“You’re a work person, and you don’t exist right now,” I said. “Stay there and don’t follow me.”
Without explaining myself any further, I moved past him and hit the down button. As if it was waiting on me, its doors immediately slid open and welcomed me aboard.
Mr. Cross crossed his arms, a slight smirk on his lips, while I stabbed the door close button.
They took forever to begin shutting, as if they wanted to give me a slow-mo glimpse of this man’s face.
