“I’ll need someone from editorial assigned to work directly with me for the next few weeks.”
My hands go cold.
A few heads turn. Ava actually grabs my arm under the table and SQUEEZES.
“I’ll choose the person today,” he continues.
His eyes slide to mine again. Not subtly.
My pulse slams so hard it hurts.
No. No no no no.
He can’t.
He wouldn’t.
He absolutely would.
The meeting ends. People stand. Papers shuffle.
My brain is melting.
As I stand, my pen clatters out of my hand and rolls across the table, directly toward him.
Of course it does.
He picks it up.
Holds it.
Then looks at me.
“Ruby,” he says quietly. “I believe this is yours.”
No. I can’t breathe.
I step forward to grab it, and as I do, his fingers brush mine.
On purpose.
Slow.
Lingering.
Electric.
My entire body ignites.
He smiles.
Small. Controlled. Devastating.
“This isn’t over,” he murmurs.
My blood turns molten.
I turn and walk out before my knees give up completely.
