No one stops me on the way in. The men outside don’t even look surprised, which somehow makes it worse. One of them opens the car door like I’m royalty.
I mutter, “This is ridiculous,” and he says, with all the warmth of a filing cabinet…
“Yes, ma’am.”
Great. Even the security detail thinks I’m dramatic.
When I step onto the office floor, everything looks normal. Too normal. Desks. Coffee. Printers. Owen loudly complaining about a spreadsheet as if my world did not tilt completely off its axis less than twelve hours ago.
That should comfort me. It doesn’t. It makes me suspicious.
I make it to my desk, set down my bag, and immediately start scanning faces. Lina gives me a sympathetic little smile. Owen waves. Vivian ignores me with such ferocity it almost counts as attention.
No one is staring. No one is whispering. No one looks like they know I spent last night alternating between almost being kidnapped and losing my mind in a hotel suite with my terrifying boss.
Which, logically, is a good sign. Emotionally, I trust nothing.
I’m halfway through opening my laptop when Owen appears beside my desk holding a muffin and looking way too cheerful for a Monday.
“Well,” he says.
My heart stops. I look up at him, trying and failing to seem calm. “Well, what?”
He grins. “You look like you had awildnight.”
I freeze. Absolutely freeze.
My brain starts firing in every direction at once. Does he know? Did someone see us? Did Alena tell someone? Did Aleksei tell someone, which would be insane but not technically impossible if he suffered some kind of personality injury overnight?
I hear myself say, a little too quickly, “What does that mean?”
Owen blinks. “Uh. That you look tired?”
I stare. He stares back.
Then his eyes widen. “Oh my God. Zee. Did you think I meant?—”
“I didn’t think anything.”
“You absolutely did.”
“I did not.”
He starts laughing, full-body, muffin nearly falling out of his hand. “Wow. That is the most defensive I’ve ever seen a person after noon.”
Heat floods my face. I want to crawl under my desk and live there forever. “I didn’t sleep well,” I say stiffly.
“Clearly.” He wipes at his eyes. “Jesus. I was just going to offer you coffee.”
I exhale very slowly. “Right. Great. Coffee.”
He leans in, still grinning like a menace. “So not a wild night, then?”
I narrow my eyes. “Owen.”
“Okay, okay.” He raises both hands. “No questions. But for the record, if someone ever says ‘you look tired,’ and your first response is mild panic, that tells astory.”
Before I can decide whether to throw something at him, Lina appears with a folder in her arms.
