A chill spiders up my spine despite the warmth of the lobby. I force a thin smile. “I’ll… keep that in mind.”
He nods once, already turning, gaze drifting toward the ceiling as if he can see through floors and walls. Then he’s gone, folding into the current of the office like smoke fading into air.
Jack’s warnings are always cryptic, but this one clings, making the flip in my stomach feel a lot more like dread. I tighten my grip on my bag and head for my office.
Except when I open the door to my office, I’m slapped in the face with the harsh reality that this is indeed not my office.
The blinds are drawn tight, shutting out the morning sun. The only light comes from a scatter of table lamps casting pools of gold across the room. Shadows stretch long over the carpet, pulling the corners into darkness.
She’s back.
Vanessa sits behind the desk like a queen reclaiming her throne—poised, elegant, and utterly at ease. Technically, thisisher office, but the way she inhabits the space makes it feel less like a place of business and more like a lair. One pale hand rests on the arm of the chair, nails painted a sharp, glinting red that matchesthe curl of her lips. Her eyes find mine instantly, sharp and bright, catching what little light dares to enter the room.
“Jamie, darling,” she purrs. “It’s good to be back.”
The air feels heavier, cooler, as if her presence alone pulls the warmth from the room.
I knew she’d be back soon. Just notthissoon.
“So, early bird? Or just trying to impress a certain someone?”
“Uh… reviewing notes,” I say, trying to sound professional. “Making sure everything’s ready for the pitch tomorrow.”
“Oh, of course,” she says, arching an eyebrow. “Our new junior strategist, so thorough.”
I open my mouth, but nothing comes out.
“You really thought I wouldn’t notice you sliding onto Magnus’s project roster? You know, the one I still have full access to. Or those late-night calendar invites he only sends you?”
Again, I open my mouth, to silence. I’m like a fish gasping for air.
“You’re my assistant, darling. I have full access to your calendar.”
Her lips curve into a knowing smile, sharp new teeth flashing. “And I don’t need office gossip when I’ve got a sixth sense for these things.” She lifts an index finger and polishes one fang like she’s buffing a diamond. “Besides, you left breadcrumbs everywhere. Even a Glawackus could’ve pieced it together.”
Poor Gladys in the mailroom—the only Glawackus inthe company—would never. She can’t see a thing, but she’s sharper than a tack.
I choke back a laugh. “I was just following your directions. Working hard. Totally focused.”
“Sure you were,” she says, smirking. “Though I did notice your notes on those slides. Impressive for… a mailroom lackey moved up to admin assistant.”
“I, uh—helped polish them. That’s all.” I bite my lip.
“Jamie, you make being helpful look very… distracting.” She leans forward, tapping a perfectly manicured finger on my notebook. “I mean, look at these notes. Kind of cute for someone with no real… experience. Very convincing.”
I groan softly, wishing a trapdoor would open beneath me and swallow me whole. With Vanessa, it’s entirely possible she actually has one installed, although I never found any evidence. I edge closer to the desk. “Vanessa—really, the meeting…”
“Oh, relax,” she teases, eyes sparkling with mischief. “You did all the legwork, but I get to swoop in and make the winning play.” She tilts her head, smirk tugging at her lips. “Or whatever those sports folks say.”
I glance down at my notes, nodding frantically, my pulse already picking up.
And then the door swings open.
My head spins, and I’m lightheaded.
Magnus.
This would be an opportune time to faint. Or for that trapdoor to kick in.
