The office felt warm and welcoming.
Exactly like Milan.
Johanna paused in the doorway.
Milan sat behind her desk reviewing guest satisfaction scores on one monitor while answering questions from a department manager on the other.
"Tell housekeeping not to comp the room yet," Milan said calmly into her headset. "I want to speak with the guest personally first."
A few seconds later she ended the call. Then she looked up. And immediately frowned.
"Oh no."
Johanna blinked tiredly. "What?"
"You got that face."
Honestly, Johanna was getting really tired of people reading her so easily.
She gave a dismissive scoff and wandered farther into the office. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
"The sad face," Milan clarified, studying her closely. "What happened?"
"Nothing."
"Johanna."
The softness in Milan's voice nearly unraveled her on the spot. Which was ridiculous. She was a grown woman, not some lovesick teenager falling apart over a man.
Unfortunately, the aching pressure inside her chest didn't seem remotely interested in cooperating with logic.
Johanna dropped into one of the upholstered chairs and stared absently through the windows at the bustling casino below.
Milan folded her arms. "Okay. You're sitting in my office staring dramatically into the distance. That's never a good sign."
A laugh almost escaped Johanna before emotion rose too quickly behind it.
She looked away immediately.
Milan's expression shifted at once.
This time, when she spoke, her voice was gentler.
"What did Blaze do?"
Johanna shook her head. "That's the problem. He didn't do anything."
Milan narrowed her eyes. "That sounds suspiciously like something a man who definitely did something would inspire."
Despite herself, Johanna almost smiled.
Almost.
She rubbed a hand across her forehead before finally answering. "He interviewed for a firefighter position in Seattle."
Milan blinked. Then blinked again. "Oh."
"Yeah."
