I walked back to my desk, but before I could sit down, Harley spun his chair toward me, brows lifted in that annoyingly observant way he had.
“Everything okay?” he asked. His tone was casual, but his eyes weren’t.
I forced a small nod. “I’m fine.”
Harley hummed, unconvinced. “Uh-huh. That’s exactly what people say right before they collapse dramatically onto the floor.” He paused. “Should I prepare a mattress? Or just catch you in my arms when it happens?”
I shot him a flat look. “Harley.”
He grinned, but it was softer this time. “Alright, alright. I’ll behave.”
I set my phone down on the table, trying to focus on the spreadsheet on my screen. My fingers hovered over my keyboard, but my mind was still miles away, replaying a voice I wished I hadn’t heard today.
“You look... rattled,” he murmured, quieter than before.
“I’m fine,” I repeated, this time more firmly.
Harley leaned back in his chair, studying me for a moment before nodding slowly.
“Alright,” he said. “If you say you’re fine, I’ll believe you.” Then, “Just... don’t carry everything alone, okay? You’re allowed to ask for help.”
The sincerity in his voice made my throat tighten. I looked back at my screen, blinking away the sting in my eyes.
“Get back to work, Harley,” I said softly.
He smiled like he already knew that was my version of thank you.
“Yes, boss.”
—?—
Adrian
I was reviewing the project schedule with two of my colleagues, going through the progress line by line. The timeline was slipping again, part of the site still wasn’t handed over by the owner, which meant half the team was stuck waiting for clearance.
“We can’t keep pushing this task into the next window,” one of them said.
“I know,” I replied, rubbing my jaw. “But until the owner releases that section, we can’t move equipment in. Coordinate with their rep again. I want an update by tomorrow morning.”
They nodded.
Just as I was flipping to the next page of the report, my phone vibrated on the table.
“Go ahead,” one of my colleagues said. “We can continue after.”
I nodded, picking it up, only for my brows to pull together when I saw the caller ID.
Phoebe.
My jaw tightened.
I excused myself and stepped back into my office, shutting the door behind me before answering.
“What do you want?” I snapped.
Her voice came sharp and irritated. “Why did you give your wife my number?”
“She asked for it.” My tone was flat, uninterested. “Did she call you?”
