10:55am.
She’s going up there today.
Alone.
He stands abruptly from his desk.
A coworker jumps. “You okay, man?”
“No,” he mutters. “I need… I need a minute.”
He looks toward the elevators.
He shouldn’t go check on her.
He really shouldn’t.
But he does.
Not to confess anything. God no.
Just to… make sure.
Make sure she’s not being pressured. Or manipulated. Or…
Okay, yes. He’s jealous.
He hates that too.
RUBY
I walk toward the executive floor with my pulse pounding in my throat.
51st floor.
52nd floor.
53rd floor, the elevator dings.
I step out.
His office door is open. Only a crack. Like he left it that way for me.
I hover outside for a breath.
Then knock.
“Come in,” he says.
I push the door open.
And then, there he is.
Leaning against the edge of his desk, sleeves rolled, top button undone, looking like the reason HR exists.
His eyes sweep over me again.
Slow.
